Hot For Teacher(149)

“Too bad Preston always left that job to you.”

Jake shrugged, his lips tipped up into a warm smile. “I didn’t mind.”

“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.”