Hot For Teacher (47 page)

              “You were always better at it anyway,” Savannah admitted with a conspiratorial smile. “You gave the best kisses whenever I got hurt.”

              His blue eyes widened ever so slightly at her words. Warm blood rushed to her cheeks as embarrassment boiled through her. Though the words were innocent enough, Savannah wished she hadn’t said them. Not while alone, behind closed doors, with the university’s sexiest teacher. Not when she’d had a crush on him for as long as she could remember. No, she should never have mentioned kissing. Not with the way he watched her lips as though he was a man starving and she was his last supper.

              The fire between them was palpable, the air around them crackling with undeniable heat. He wasn’t the patient teen who’d kissed her scraped knees. She wasn’t the snot-nosed kid who’d cried in his strong arms. He was a man—sexy, experienced, and brilliant. She was a woman, albeit a much younger one – naïve and thirsty for knowledge. There were so many things he could teach her. Of that fact, Savannah had no doubt. But they were not the things she’d come to college for.

              “So, Jake,” Savannah managed to choke out. She was more proud of the formulation of those two little words than she was of her perfect 4.0 grade point average and ACT scores combined. For they were a million times harder to achieve. “What did you need to see me about?”

              Jake shook his head as though to clear it and gave her a tight smile. “Oh, right. This.”

              He plucked a folder from one of the piles on his desk and dropped it onto the empty desk space in front of her. Savannah recognized the green folder. It was her essay on what it would be like to be a woman during the Civil War. She eyed the folder, folded her arms across her chest, and looked up at him in perplexed annoyance.

              “What about it?”

              Jake raked a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “It’s shit.”

              Savannah gasped, bristling with indignation. “I beg your pardon. It is an impeccably written essay that addresses all the requisite points indicated in the syllabus.”

              With a shrug, Jake leveled her with a noncommittal look. “That it is. You write better than most college graduates. But you missed the point of the assignment.”

              “I did not,” Savannah protested, her voice rising with her indignation.

              “Sorry, Vanna-Banana, but you did. I can’t even give that tawdry effort a ‘C.’”

              “A ‘C’?!?” she shrieked. “A ‘C’?!? Have you lost your mind? I’ll go to the dean. You can’t do this to me.”

              “Calm down, Banana. I’m not here to ruin your perfect grades,” Jake assured her, holding his hands out in front of him as though to call a cease fire. Savannah might have believed him, if he wasn’t grinning at her outburst.
Damn the man.

              “Then, what in the name of all that is good and holy do you hope to accomplish?” Savannah railed, knowing full well her efforts at deep breathing were doing little to calm her rage.
A ‘C’ indeed!
‘A’ was the only letter in her alphabet.

              Interlacing his fingers, Jake rested his clasped hands on the desk in front of him and leaned his weight on his forearms. Savannah tried to ignore the strong muscles and tan skin of his forearms beneath the cuffs of his folded up shirtsleeves. She also tried to ignore how adorable he was when his jaw took that determined set. “I’m hoping to change your mind.”

              Studying him beneath scrunched brows, Savannah chewed her lower lip. “About?”

              “About history. About life.”

              “Jake, I… I have a perfectly acceptable understanding of both. I just have little use for the former,” Savannah defended, unsure whether his presumptuous plans offended or intrigued her. Her life was just fine, thank you very much.

              Jake shook his golden head at her. “No. You don’t. I asked for an introspective essay on what it would be like to be a woman during the Civil War. What I got was a clinical analysis of the living conditions and social norms.”

              “But I covered all the points listed in the syllabus,” Savannah argued. She couldn’t believe this. She’d done the assignment as instructed.

              “I also learned a lot about how your mind works, Vanna,” he added quietly, “and something has to change.”

              “You’ve lost your mind,” Savannah scoffed. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Perhaps you’re projecting your own issues on me, Jake Anderson!”

              Jake chuckled. “Maybe. But be that as it may, if you want to pass this class, you’re going to have to approach the subject matter with a much more open mind.”

              Savannah mouthed the words ‘if I want to pass’ in utter shock.

              “I’m not your conventional history teacher. I don’t expect my students to memorize dates. I want them to understand and remember the significance of the events of the past.”

              Her mouth still hanging open in a solid effort at catching nonexistent flies, Savannah continued to gape at him in wordless horror.

              “Close your mouth, Vanna. It’s not that bad.”
              Savannah snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. “Fine.
Doctor
Anderson,” she growled, stressing the word ‘doctor’ as though it was an insult. “What do I have to do to earn my grade in your class?”

              She didn’t care how hot he was. She didn’t care how badly she had wanted him to want her for as long as she could remember. If he suggested trading sexual favors for grades, she’d smack him and march straight to the dean’s office.

              “Tutoring, after class.”

             
Tutoring?
Tutoring wasn’t even a word in her dictionary. Tutoring was for… well, not for her.

              “I don’t need tutoring,” Savannah grumbled, wondering if she’d get suspended or lose her scholarship if she tried to shove her history paper down Jake’s throat. “There’s nothing you can teach me that I can’t learn from a textbook.”

              Even as she said the words, she knew they weren’t true. But she was certain the things Jake could teach her were not part of the approved curriculum. He knew it to. The heat of his gaze warmed her from head to toe as he raked her with a knowing smirk.

              “Trust me, Vanna. You have no idea how much I can teach you.”              

***

              And so it began, their afternoon ‘tutoring’ sessions every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after class. Jake would usher her into his office, close the door, and try to persuade her that history was worth learning about.
Yeah, and fortune telling was a viable career path.

              Savannah huffed and slammed her text book shut, probably a little harder than she’d intended to, but whatever. If Jake wanted her to learn the information, he’d have to make it a hell of a lot more interesting. “I still don’t get why we’re learning about this ridiculous drivel. It’s all about a bunch of money grubbing opportunists with no qualms and sniveling debutantes with no value.”

              Jake looked up at her from beneath raised brows. Savannah hated it when he did that. He looked far too devilishly handsome when he did, making it all too easy to forget he was her teacher and not the boy she’d followed around like a shadow as a child. She’d loved the twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes and his rakish scoff for as long as she could remember. A grin of amusement split his tan face, displaying his perfect teeth, and her heart skipped a beat.

             
Such a waste.
With looks like that and talent like his, he should’ve been signing endorsement deals as a pro football player, not teaching freshmen the useless nuances of American History. A man like him could’ve been an incredible role model in a world of rehab-bound celebrities.

              “Because, my dear Miss Savannah,” he drawled in a bad Southern accent that elicited a reluctant giggle, “not only was it the deadliest war in American history, but it was one of the most passionate and formative periods to befall our great nation.”

              Savannah tipped her head to the side and regarded him with a haughty smirk. “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

              Laughing, Jake smacked his thighs in amusement as laughter rocked his big body. He shook his head at her, his blue eyes dancing with mirth. “How can you spout ‘Gone With the Wind’ quotes at me, but not appreciate the economic, moral, social, and political significance of the period?”

              She chewed her lip thoughtfully, then shrugged. “I blame my mother. She likes sappy old movies like that.” It was the only ‘quality time’ the two of them had ever spent together, watching old movies as they waited around to take care of Preston.

              Propping his hip on the desk beside her, Jake crossed his arms over his broad chest and grinned down at her. The effect was distracting, to say the least. Savannah itched to reach out and poke his thick bicep, just to see if it was as hard and powerful as it looked. Surely it was her pre-med curiosity regarding human anatomy and not her feminine hormones that begged for a touch. He was a perfect specimen of the human form and she’d love to learn more…
Okay, enough of that
.
Slavery. Deserters. Carpetbaggers…

              “Oh yeah?” Jake challenged, interrupting her pitiful attempt at diverting her attention back to the mind-numbing subject at hand. “And what movies do you like to watch?”

              Savannah notched her chin and crossed her own arms over her chest. “Educational ones.”

              “Alright, how about Gettysburg or Glory?” Jake challenged, planting his palm on the desk in front of her to lean down and hold her gaze. He was entirely too close. And she liked it. But damn him, he made it hard to think. His knowing smirk said he knew it too.

              “I said educational, not glorified fiction,” she retorted, feeling more peckish over the uncontrollable effects of his proximity than their verbal sparring.

              Jake didn’t argue or correct her, much to Savannah’s surprise. He smiled back in challenge. “Such as…?”

              “Science and discovery type films, documentaries, you know, where you actually walk away a better and brighter person,” Savannah countered.

              Rubbing the dark blonde scruff of his chin thoughtfully, Jake frowned down at her. “There are more types of discovery than just science, Savannah. I doubt anyone could watch a film such as Cold Mountain and walk away unchanged. The knowledge gained may be more of an emotional intelligence, but no less real in its value.”

              The passion in his words did funny things to her insides. Savannah swallowed hard and met his intense gaze. “I disagree.”

             
Ugh.
The words came out much more breathless and ragged than she would have liked.

              Jake’s face fell, taking Savannah’s heart sank with it. She’d said the wrong thing. He tried to turn away from her, but she stopped him with a hand on his forearm. The unexpected contact, the innocent feel of skin on skin sent delicious chills racing through her. Under normal circumstances, she would never have touched a teacher, let alone grabbed one like that. But these weren’t normal circumstances. And he wasn’t just her teacher. He was Jake.

              Although the touch was anything but sexual, it felt forbidden. With a simple touch, she’d shattered the imaginary glass wall between them. She could feel the mutual heat between them, sizzling hotter than ever. And the temperature was intense enough to burn down the history building.

              His electric blue eyes seared into hers as she licked her suddenly dry lips and tried to form words. Her pulse pounded in her ears, its percussion matching the throbbing low within her belly.

              “Prove it,” she choked out between ragged breaths. “Make me believe.”

              Jake’s full lips twisted into a sly smile. He shifted to stand behind her, his big form so close she could feel the heat of his body through her clothes. He leaned down until his lips almost brushed her ear, so close she could feel the sweet warmth of his breath on the sensitive skin.  “Close your eyes.”

              Savannah glanced sideways at him with her best ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ scowl.

              “Close your eyes,” he growled. Was it her imagination, or did his voice sound even more deliciously husky and deep.

              “Fine,” Savannah agreed reluctantly, squeezing her eyes shut in put-upon-capitulation. “But if you try anything funny, I may have trust issues for the rest of my life.”

              His husky chuckle tickled the sensitive skin of her neck. “We don’t want that. Clearly, you have enough issues as is.”

              “Hey!” she protested, peeking sideways at him through one partially cracked lid.

              “Uh, uh,” he tsked by her ear. “Eyes closed.”

              Savannah heaved a sigh and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Fine.”

              “Imagine being a slave, a piece of property, thought of as little more than an animal. Imagine fighting alongside men who believed exactly that, but allowed you to fight to further their own purposes. Imagine risking your life for a chance at your God-given right to freedom.”