[All characters appearing in this work are over the age of 18. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.]
*****
Chapter 1
She decided the best move was to stay after class and speak with him. She felt confident that her effort throughout the past month would soon come to fruition. She could see him slowly losing his composure. The professional distance he maintained with all his students began to fade away when it came to her.
She knew his weaknesses, too. They were quite easy to spot.
Sometimes it would be the white dress that ended just above mid-thigh. Or way she cocked her hip to the side when she'd stand and talk to her friends in front of his desk. The black lace choker she occasionally wore. The way her short shorts accentuated her ass. Even the way she handed in papers while looking him in the eye. Sasha knew exactly what she was doing.
To his credit, he'd done a good job in attempting to hide his desire and increasing arousal. If she did catch him casting a wayward glance towards her, it was never for too long. He didn't favor her above the rest of the class in any noticeable way but she knew from the way he shifted uncomfortably when she approached, or even how he'd run his hand through his hair after a lesson filled with her subtle provocations, he wanted her. Badly.
Her attraction to him was almost immediate. It was clear as day that he was physically enticing and she wasn't the only girl in class that noticed. While most men his age sported a beer gut, or at least a small belly, Jason Sterling was as fit as if he was 25.
With wide shoulders, a pronounced chest and standing right at 6'0", his presence was quite imposing. His body was just the tip of the iceberg though. It was his mind, his personality that left her daydreaming about the time they could spend together. The future they had yet to fulfill.
The man was simply a genius in his field. Participatory action research was a relatively new community-based research methods developed in social science. It was incredibly complex, involving innumerable sociopolitical implications that needed to be accounted for when studying any community or social issue at the grassroots level. Professor Sterling made the entire process of learning to engage in this methodological approach quite enjoyable. The school was incredibly lucky to have him on the faculty.
He was easy to laugh and always answered questions in a thought-provoking manner. Professor Sterling was a genuinely kind person. It was this side of him that made her ache with want. Well, that and his delicious physique. Or perhaps it was everything about him. She couldn't lie to herself: he was quite easy on the eyes. As time went on, her desire only deepened. After about a month in his class, she'd resolved to make him hers before the semester was over.
Students gathered their laptops and papers and shuffled out of class. It was a Thursday morning, and they all had a three-day weekend to look forward to with no Friday classes. She lingered behind, slowly putting her notebook and reading materials into her bag as her classmates filtered out of the classroom. She stood up, sauntered up to his desk while his fingers tapped lightly against his laptop keyboard.
"Excuse me, Professor Sterling. Do you have a moment?" she asked.
He looked up from the computer screen. "Why certainly!" he replied with a smile. He removed his thin reading glasses and placed them next to his computer, then spun his chair to look up at her. "What can I do for you, Sasha?"
She felt a slight tingling in her stomach, but held her composure. She loved it when he said her name. "Um, I'm having a little trouble with our research project," she said bashfully.
He frowned slightly. "What seems to be the problem? Last time I was updated, your group was on track for gathering enough data for a representative sample size."
"It's not our sample. I'm not entirely sure yet. After compiling some of our data and doing some preliminary analysis, I'm nervous that our results are too skewed. I'm worried that our questionnaire isn't bringing out the issue from our participants clear enough," she said.
He put his hand to his chin, and thought about this for a moment. His eyes met hers. "You're assuming this based off of the pivot tables you've made so far? With the half finished sample you've compiled?"
She blushed slightly at this. "Well...yeah. Basically."
He grinned knowingly. "Don't fret, Sasha. Keep in mind that what you're trying to attempt in just a semester normally takes years of research and data gathering. Food deserts aren't simple issues that can be easily understood or addressed in four months. I don't expect your project to be fully fleshed out in time for the symposium. I merely expect you all to do your best in the time given."
"I understand. I just feel bad about letting our participants down," she said disappointedly. She bit her lip and broke eye contact with him.
He stood up from his desk, and closed his laptop. "I'll tell you what, I have some free time this evening during my office hours. Bring me what you've finished thus far, and we'll go over it together." He gave her a soft smile.
She looked up at him with big blue eyes. "Really? Is that okay? I don't mean to be a bother, I know you're really busy this time of year."
He waved the comment away. "Don't worry about it. I'll need a distraction from grading papers anyway. My freshman class is killing me this year."
"Thank you, Professor," she said, smiling widely while fighting the urge to lick her lips.
What a perfect opportunity.
"I'll make sure to bring the data with me."
"No problem, Miss Blackwood," he said ernestly.
She turned from his desk and walked to the back of the class. She felt his eyes drinking her in from behind as her black skirt swished in time with her steps. Her toned legs quickly made the distance to the door. As she gripped the handle and swung the door open, she cast one last glance at him over her shoulder. He was gathering his belongings, and looked up at her. A ghost of a grin passed over his face and she smiled, blushing as she left the room.
Oh, the things I'm going to do that man,
she thought as she softly stepped down the hallway.
*****
The Parkway Institute
was an elite preparatory academy for gifted students from families with substantial means. Many of these absurdly wealthy families had specific career paths in mind for their children. However, some students may not have been socially prepared for the rigors of a formal university right after finishing high school. Parkway served as the two-year buffer for those students. It additionally served as a place for highly advanced students to further hone their already exceptional academic skills.
The campus was massive, but easy to get around. The main building, a giant Tudor style, multi-floor monstrosity, was shaped in a distinctive U. It's west wing housed the majority of classrooms and laboratories. These classrooms were equipped with state-of-the-art technology. Computers, smart-boards, projectors, and touchscreen displays filled each room. There were tablets at every desk for the students use. Its east wing contained the students' dormitories.
Each floor was designated as either male or female. While the students shared a common living area in each suite, they all had their own individual rooms and adjoining bathrooms. Both the bedrooms and the common areas were lavishly furnished and contained only the best appliances money could buy. The school's current administration had made sure of that. It was important they kept their students as comfortable as possible, lest their parents caught wind of any 'outrageous conditions.' Maintaining a steady cash flow from the absurdly high tuition fees was as important to the administration as their student's comfort.
As Sasha walked slowly through the courtyard, on the way to her suite in the east wing, she felt her phone vibrate in her bag. She pulled it out and held her thumb against the home button at the bottom.
Do you wanna hang out again tonight?
