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Jealous: Book 1 of the Possessive Professor Series

Jealous (Possessive Professor Series Book 1)

Angsty wattpad-esque themes like daddy's best friend, forbidden age gap, student teacher relationship, bwwm swirl, and erotica romance are rampant in this smut book series!

Scroll down to the bottom of this page to see a list of all of the genres that appear in this story.

As always, I hope you enjoy all of our short erotic adult sex stories!

Summary

“You’d be smart to stay away from me, little girl. I have every intention of ruining you.” 

Rose Kanyenda has always admired the man that Preston Quinn was ever since she was a child. Now that she’s an adult, she sees her father’s best friend in a different light, one that could change their relationship forever. She makes advances toward him, but what is Rose to do when she can’t seem to get his attention at all?

Preston notices how Rose has grown into a beautiful woman when she enters his classroom during her first year of college. His attraction for her builds and suddenly he has no control over his urges. Trying to salvage his longtime friendship, Preston avoids Rose at all costs. But when that doesn’t work, he finds himself crossing lines that could ruin his relationships with the both of them.

ONE

Rose

PRESTON ALEXANDER QUINN. The name of my daddy’s best friend always rolls off my tongue in a delightful way, especially when I whisper it slowly – without anyone hearing me, of course. It’s midday in college. Everyone has that typical morbid look on their faces, dying from boredom in our physics class. I’ve got my jaw placed in the palm of my hand, staring peacefully at the handsome professor that hardly notices the constant lustful look in my eyes.

Preston has been my daddy’s friend for over twenty years, and my physics professor in college for a year. I remember the first time I realized I had a crush on him.

I was probably thirteen, and he had come by our home again, wearing tennis shorts that revealed the tiny dots of hair on his thighs. He stopped his car in front of the house when Tom, a boy next door, was making crude remarks about my long hair, which I always plaited into two cornrows.

“It makes you look silly, Rose,” Tom was saying. “No boy would ever bare to look at your ugly face with those stupid pigtail puffs behind you!”

I loved my pigtail puffs. I still love them now and would definitely ignore any man who dared to insult them. However, at the age of fifteen, I was extremely shy. I didn’t know how to respond when other kids were mean to me. The entire time Tom laughed at my hair, I stared at my feet, trying not to run into the house with tears trickling down my cheeks.

Maybe I never learned how to deal with situations like these, even up until this day, because Preston had always handled the situation for me. He had stepped out of his car and pointed at the boy with a grunt. “Tom. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Tom glanced once at him and had regretted that he had said those words within any adult’s earshot. “Mr—Mr. Quinn,” he stuttered, scratching his head and looking anxiously around him. “I didn’t know you were . . . I didn’t know you were here.”

Preston hadn’t said anything.

It made Tom more anxious. The boy was shaking in his sneakers. It made we wonder where all the fight went.

“Her hair is silly!” He blurted, trying hold his facade. “No girl in school braids their hair into cornrows anymore.”

“And do you think Rose cares what every girl in school is doing with their hair?” Preston asked, though he didn’t wait for a response. “Stay away from Rose. I don’t want to hear about you glaring at her during class and I don’t want to hear a single thing about you pulling on her hair in the hallways. Cut that shit out. If something does come back to me, Tom,” Preston shook his head, “I can’t say what I’d do next.”

Preston rarely cursed. It was important to uphold his image as a teacher, so I knew in that moment he was very much upset. I was glad to be on his side and not on the receiving end.

Tom timidly scratched the nape of his neck and opened his mouth to speak.

“You’d be smart to keep your mouth shut, son.” Preston interrupted. “Apologize to Rose and be on your way home.”

Tom avoided Preston’s eyes, and disdainfully looked at me. He bit his crusty lips, hating the idea of apologizing to me.

Preston stepped toward him with a frown on his face. He urged the boy, “She’s waiting.”

“I’m sorry, Rose!” Tom eventually groaned. He whirled around and stomped back home with his arms swinging angrily beside him.

The tears in my eyes had finally trickled down my cheeks. But this time, I wasn’t staring at my feet. I was staring appreciatively at Preston.

He closed the distance between us and bent down to wipe the tears off my cheeks. “Your hair looks beautiful, Rose,” he said. “Tom is just another one of those idiot boys. It makes them feel better when they pick on beautiful, little girls.”

I nodded, noticing for the first time that his eyes were greener than I always noticed them to be. He smiled briefly at me, making me smile, too. His large hand pat my head before straightening his back and sauntering into the house.

It has been five years since that happened, making me eighteen years old now, but the memory is still vivid in my head. I remember the pleasant smell of his bath soap as he bent to wipe my tears. I also remember the soft touch of his palm on my shoulder and the tingling urge I felt to hug him there and then. Standing there alone in front of the house, after Preston had left, it felt as if I’d gotten a guardian angel – a handsome older man whose piercing green eyes make me feel safe and protected. I could always go to him and I never hesitated.

Soon enough, in my mind, he was no longer just my daddy’s best friend. I always stood as close as I could to him and sat on his lap as much as I could. As I got older, Preston teased me about sitting in his lap. He said I was no longer a little girl. So, I consistently stood close to him to catch a whiff of his heart melting scent. I also loved watching him smile whenever he visited the house. I still felt the urge to hug him, but I knew it would be silly to suggest it, or even instinctively do so since I was no longer a child.

It was my first year of college that the thought of Preston as my guardian angel had permanently slipped out of my thoughts. I was anxious as a freshman student and had expected the worse for my first lecture experience. However, nothing had prepared me for the experience of having Preston as my math and physics professor.

TWO

Rose

As he wraps up the lesson for today, I let my eyes take in his body beneath his shirt and pants again. The first two buttons on his shirts are loose, showing the hair on his chest. When he exhales after a long sentence, I notice how his chest rises, sticking more hair out of his shirt than usual. The thought of running my fingers over his broad, manly chest excites me.

“Okay, that will be all for today,” Preston finally says, clearing his throat and turning his back to the class.

He walks to his desk and begins to arrange his books as everyone gets up from their seats and does the same. I sit without moving, expecting him and I to be the only ones left in the class in a few minutes. The only reason I am back in Preston’s second-semester physics class is because I had failed the first time I took it. I’ve always had difficulty understanding physics since high school.

I groan and bury my head in notes, waiting for the last kid to leave the freaking classroom. I peel one eye open to see if the coast is clear. I nearly squeal for joy when I see that it is. I quickly gather all my stuff and walk to the front.

 “Prest . . .” I clear my throat. “Professor Quinn?”

“Oh, Miss Kanyenda. You’re still here?” he asks, glancing up from his book.

I smile at the formal exchange between us, despite how we have known each other for years. Whenever Preston comes by the house, I am used to calling him by his first name while he calls me Rose.

“Is there something you’d like me to help you with?” Preston asks, bringing my attention back to him.

“Actually, yes.” I say, stepping closer to his desk. His cologne fills my nostrils as soon as I get reasonably close to him. His eyes stare into mine with interest while I smile at him, trying to hide my anxiety. I wish there is a way I could make him look at me until I leave for my next class. “I was hoping I could have you alone to myself for the next few minutes,” I say.

“Alone to yourself?”

“Yes.” I admit, but only by accident. I grit my teeth, hoping I haven’t hinted precisely at what I want. “I mean, so . . . so you could further ex—explain the sudden transition of an atom from one, uhm, energy state to another.” I stutter. “What was it that you called it?”

“Oh. A quantum leap.”

“Yes, that!” I grin, holding my books to my chest, hoping that it would draw his attention to the tops of my breasts. I’m wearing a V-neck that wonderfully shows cleavage. “I really need the extra lesson, Professor Quinn. I don’t want to fail the class again.”

Preston frowns at me for a second before pointing to the empty seat in front of him. “Well, you had better sit.” He says, gesturing to a seat in the front. It’s my old seat. The one I sat in every day last year. I did as I was told and sat down, reminiscent of the perfect view I used to have.

“Did your Dad bring you up to this?” he asks as soon as I sit, still clasping the books to my chest.

“Daddy? No, no.” I chuckle. “I mean, he wants me to pass this time around, but I’m the one asking for help.”

“Yeah, I don’t even know why I asked.” Preston chuckles. “He’s so caught up in bowling with his new-found love. Honestly, I can’t keep up with him. It’s Talia, right?”

“Tia,” I correct. “He says he met her at the beach, and that she loves bowling a lot.”

“Well, that’s none of our concern here, is it?” Preston walks over to my desk and stands beside me. He leans over as I get another waft of his aroma. “Now, what about quantum leap do you need to understand?”

I whisper, “Everything.” I straighten my back on the chair and let my books fall to my laps. I exhale slowly so my breasts could heave above the desk.

If Preston noticed my vain effort to get him to look at my chest, he didn’t show it. He clears his throat and asks for my textbook.

I pull it from my lap and set it onto the table.

He opens the book and flips to the correct page with no hassle. He points to the words “Quantum Theory” at the top of page 43.

“Perhaps you need to understand what the quantum theory is before catching the bus to the realm of quantum leap, Miss Kanyenda,” Preston begins.

I nod my head, trying so much to concentrate on his explanation instead of imagining what it would feel like if he were attracted to me as much as I am attracted to him.

“The quantum theory is all about the behavior, or let’s say the interaction between basic particles or energy states. This is based on the assumption that energy is made up of multiple discrete matters that possess wave properties.”

I watch his lips move slowly as he gives more lucid explanations of how particles interact and the usefulness of quantum theory to human evolution. His deep baritone voice . . . the way his lips seem so soft . . . so kissable. They effortlessly enchant me. As the seconds tick by, I lean forward in my chair and place my left hand on the table. His right hand is on the table, as he instructs me further on boring quantum. I yearn to touch him. He’s so close. My body craves the warmth of his skin, and I could feel tingling between my thighs with the imagination of what my touch could do to him. If I could just reach him . . .

Before I could get my hand closer to his, Preston withdraws his hand and turns to me with a smile. “The quantum theory or quantum physics as a whole,” he says, “isn’t something you learn in under five minutes, Miss Kanyenda. Attend your other classes, and perhaps you can meet up with me and bring a list of questions. We can both tackle each one until there is nothing left you don’t know.”

“Uhm, o—okay,” I agree, feeling disappointment eat into my heart as I pull my hand under the table.

“Do you have all the textbooks for the semester?”

I stare at the books on my lap and nod. For a brief moment, I also wish Preston could see my legs under this desk. I am wearing a short skirt that exposes my thick, spotless thighs when I sit.

“I will be giving the class some assignments before the middle of the semester. I think that will help with further studies on topics in the course. You should remind me to give you some aiding tips, too.”

I nod again and stand in front of him. With my five-foot-three height, I look like a child beside Preston, who is six-foot-three. A whole head taller than me.

He smiles at me and walks over to his desk.

I follow after him and watch as he continues to place his books into his bag.

“Alright, go ahead to your next class. I don’t want you to be late,” he says with his back turned to me.

“Okay,” I say, my voice barely audible. I pause to gaze coyly into his green eyes, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. I assume it’s because he’s still packing. I wait for him to finish placing that last book into his bag.

He does but hesitates to move from his desk. Instead, he barely looks over his shoulder at me before returning to miscellaneous items on his desk. “You’re still here?”

“Yes… just saying bye.”

“Alright. Bye, Miss Kanyenda.”

He’s not even looking at me as he says this. My heart further aches, but not in the way he usually makes me feel. I tightly clutch the books in my hands while the disappointment swells beneath my chest.

It’s always, Miss Kanyenda. Why does he have to be so formal with me in public? The classroom is empty. It’s only us two in here, yet he still calls my name with formality. It’s already been hard enough to get his attention. He’s right here, but why does he feel so far away these days. He’s so distant. Why? I hate this.

I turn to leave the classroom, dragging my steps as I feel the space between us increasing. Is this really the same guy who protected me from that kid, Tom? It’s like he doesn’t even want to see me anymore. I’m almost out the door before Preston speaks again.

“I’m coming by the house tonight.”

My heart stops as I freeze at the entrance of the door. I shyly peer over my shoulder. “Tonight?”

“Yes,” he replies, “tonight. Your Dad wants us to have beers together. It’s been a while since I came to the house, and he misses his best friend. I guess I miss him, too.” He finally turns to look at me, “Don’t tell him anything about that last part.” Preston says as he winks at me from across the room.

I giggle and nod, “I won’t.”

“Alright, I’m trusting you.”

“Okay,” I say, all giddy as we keep eye contact. I back out the classroom and into the hallway, with his eyes still on me.

It wasn’t until I disappeared from his point of view that I lost his eyes. It took everything in me not to squeal. Maybe he’s not distant. It’s probably all just in my head. When he comes by the house, I’ll try to touch him again. I could run my fingers over his arm when I am pouring him a glass of water or give him a quick back hug as I help him take off his coat. I’m so excited!

I walk to my next class thinking about all the ways I could finally be irresistible to him. I’m no longer the girl he once knew, I repeat in my head. I’ve grown into a beautiful, mature woman. As grown as I think I am, it would take everything I’ve got to attract a man like Preston Quinn, but I am ready. I’m going to make him see every sexy inch of my body by the time he visits the house, and I know exactly how I’m going to do that.

To be continued…

Read Book 2 >>>

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Authors Note:

Thank you so much for taking the time to read Jealous 1! I hope you’re ready for the next book because we’re just warming to their naughty, naughty romance story! Protect your mental health and be sure to read our trigger warnings!

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