Seducing Professor Coyle (7 page)

Ben frowned. “What do you mean?”

For first time ever, he saw a blush creep up Dominick’s pale face. “I just mean, I thought we could have enjoyed everything...together. But you took off, wouldn’t go in the pool with me or anything.”

Ben took a step closer. “What do you mean,
enjoy everything together?
You wanted us to do what? Have group sex or something?”

Dom turned away, snatched his lunch and headed for the door. “That’s not what I meant. Forget the party. I’m not mad, let’s just put it behind us.” He left, closing the door a bit too hard.

Ben stared at the door, confused. Dominick was his core, his base of sanity in this world. He was more or less Ben’s only friend. But Dom seemed more annoyed with him than he’d ever been. He supposed his own bad attitude and anxiety over the Dr. Coyle issue might be making him unpleasant to be around, sending off a negative vibe. He needed to be done with that, to resolve it so it would stop eating at him.

With that thought, he gathered his things and headed off to school. He only hoped that resolving his problems with Dr. Coyle would have the further benefit of getting the man out of his mind. And out of his dreams.

****

Ben sat on the fountain’s edge in front of the Fine Art’s Center, waiting to see Dr. Coyle go in. He’d looked up his schedule, and knew he taught one of his writing classes in there at 9:15. It felt like he was stalking the professor, but he simply wanted to make sure the man was tucked away in class, far from his office before Ben dropped off the envelope with his test and essay. He knew he was being a baby, and he should just face the professor and see what happened, see if he gave any indication that he’d recognized Ben in the window of that cabana Friday night. But he was feeling like a chicken shit about the whole thing, so he was taking the easy way out.

Trails of students passed in front of him, but he managed to keep his eye on the front doors of the building.

Oh crap, there he is
. He caught sight of Coyle walking up the path toward the front doors, and he stopped breathing for a moment.
Relax
, he told himself.
At least he’s dressed
. Today Coyle wore khaki trousers with a white, short-sleeved button down shirt, briefcase in one hand, jacket thrown over his shoulder. He looked sexy and understated in his glasses, seeming somewhat morose as he walked with his head down.

“Benjamin!”

Ben turned to see Professor Tammy Albert, the head of the computer department walking toward him across the grass.
No, not now
.

She waved as she approached, short blond hair blowing in the breeze. “Ben, I’ve been looking for you,” she shouted.

He glanced back toward the Fine Art’s Center. As he’d feared, Dr. Albert’s voice had drawn Coyle’s attention, and he stared over at Ben where he sat on the fountain. Ben looked back at him, swallowing hard. Their eyes connected. Coyle pushed his glasses up on his nose, shoulders held stiff. The professor looked like he’d seen a ghost, wearing that same panicked expression as in his office Friday.

As Tammy reached the fountain, Coyle turned quickly away, disappearing into the building.

“I’ve been trying to get hold of you, did you get the invitation I sent you?” she asked, sitting beside Ben.

“Oh hey, Dr. Albert, yeah. Party at the dean’s house tonight, right? I thought it was a mistake.”

She laughed, bumping his shoulder with hers. “A mistake? You ungrateful little creep. I chose you as one of only two students I could invite to Yarboro’s
elite
and boring cocktail party, and you were gonna blow it off, weren’t you?”

He grinned sheepishly. “I guess I just can’t understand why you’d ask me.”

“You’re the top student in the department right now, you’ve aced all your classes and Ken Shepherd said your final project was genius. Quit being so humble, Ben. You’re going to the party, and that’s final.”

Ben winced inwardly. Would Dr. Coyle be at the dean’s party? The last thing he needed was another impromptu run-in with the guy. “I don’t know, Tammy, I’m pretty busy with schoolwork, it’s my last semester and all.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, right. I’m sure you’re not too busy to go to parties you
want
to attend. Don’t worry, you won’t be the only student there with a bunch of old academic farts. Every teacher was allowed to choose two, there’ll be other people your age there. Come on, it’ll make me look bad if you don’t go.”

Ben liked Tammy Albert. She’d been great, incredibly supportive to him since he started school four years ago. She seemed to understand his obsessive drive and perfectionism, and instead of trying to get him to temper it, like Dominick did, she encouraged him. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but his gut filled with dread. And something else: a small, pleasant excitement at the prospect of seeing Peter Coyle socially. In a setting without nudity and fuck huts on the premises.

Dominick’s words from earlier came back to him.
You’re into him
. He was. Seeing Dr. Coyle just now had sent a thrill through him, despite his anxiety over the situation. But could he face him?

He came up with a rationalization. Running into Dr. Coyle at the dean’s house might be the best way to diffuse the situation. After all, Coyle couldn’t flip out on Ben in front of his colleagues. It would be far less intimidating than sitting in his office, facing him across the desk, or waiting until his Friday class. He could drop his assignments off in Coyle’s mailbox today. Then, if Coyle was at the party, it would be on him if he wanted to talk to Ben. The ball was in his court. Ben wouldn’t have to take any initiative.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be there. Wouldn’t want to make you look bad.” He grinned, and Tammy ruffled his hair.

“Good, I’ll see you there. Dress nice.”

“I always dress nice!”

She stood. “Something other than
jeans
, Benjamin,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away. “See you tonight!”

Ben let out a long breath after she’d gone. He stood and headed toward the Fowler building where Coyle’s office was. This constant anxiety in his gut was getting tiresome. Whether Coyle chose to fail him, pass him, confront him or completely ignore him, whatever would be would be. But the not knowing was driving Ben insane. Now that he’d come to terms with it, he found himself hoping that Coyle
would
be at the dean’s party. One way or another, it would bring closure to the situation.

But then what?
The thought brought a scowl as he made his way along the paved, sunny pathway. If after receiving Ben’s test and essay, Coyle agreed to amend his grade, it would be over. And that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

“I need more.”

The words he’d spoken in his dream came back to him with a jolt, and his cock stirred. He did want more. Who was he kidding? He
needed
more. The truth of it had been burning at the periphery of his thoughts since he woke up that morning, saturated in his own seed. He wanted Dr. Coyle. Badly. And even as a stampede of reasons not to pursue it pushed to the forefront of his mind, he knew with a sudden certainly that he was going to ignore them all.

He wouldn’t risk his grade, and if Coyle refused to change it, he was sure that would take precedence, snap him out of this fantasy. But if the professor did change his grade, if that business got resolved...then what? Ben had never had to pursue anyone before. He’d only had to sit down on a barstool and wait for them to come to him. But Peter would not come to him. He’d be opposed because of the student element, even if Ben
could
draw his interest.

And Ben was only pushy and aggressive when it came to his education and future career. He’d never been one to come on strong sexually, to take control.
No, that’s what Coyle does.

An electric thrill ran through him at the thought of Dr. Coyle taking control of
him
. He grinned as a perfectly awful, risky idea surfaced. If Ben came on to Professor Coyle,
he’d
be the one trying to control the situation. To use his own power. A dominant like Peter Coyle probably wouldn’t like that. Then only two things could happen. Coyle would turn him down flat. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d feel compelled to turn that power dynamic around on Ben.

What the hell are you thinking?
But he knew exactly what he was thinking. He was going to try to ignite his stuffy literature professor’s secretly aggressive sexual nature.

It was no wonder Dominick was treating Ben differently. He felt different. Something inside him
was
different, ever since he’d spied on Coyle at that damn party. A desperate, irrational need for the man burned within him. He could no more temper it than he could stop the exploding orgasm in his dream last night.

Dom had scolded Ben for being unwilling to take risks. And yes, he’d always been overly cautious that way. But if things played out the way he hoped, then he planned to find out what would happen if he did take a risk. A
big
one.

He was going to try seducing Professor Coyle.

Chapter Six

Peter stepped into his campus office and sat down, taking his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t usually this tired at the end of a school day, but his shoulders felt tense and he just wanted to go home and take a hot bath. Unfortunately he was expected to go to that dreaded cocktail party at Dean Yarboro’s place tonight.

He shuffled through his mail, stopping short when he got to a large manila envelope.
Dr. Peter Coyle
was written across the top in black marker, and beneath that,
From Benjamin LeClair
.

He’d felt an impending dread since seeing Benjamin near the Fine Arts Center earlier, sitting at the fountain across the walkway. Watching him? Or was it just a coincidence? His fingers tightened on the envelope. Was this it? Would this be the threat he’d been anticipating? He shook it, trying to determine its contents. Would it be the test he promised to turn in or something worse?
Like blackmail photographs
.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself. “Stop being so melodramatic.” He had to get a grip, it was ridiculous, living in fear of some little punk student.
Who may or may not have watched you fuck someone Friday night. While you fantasized about him
.

Tightening his lips, he tore open the envelope and dumped the contents onto his desk, jerking back as though expecting it to be a bomb or a family of spiders. He let out the breath he’d been holding. Just papers. Nothing but papers. No photographs.

He sifted through. There was Benjamin’s test on chapters four through ten, along with an essay of some sort, and a letter. He set the other items down and picked up the letter.

Dr. Coyle:

I did find the test you said I missed. I was correct that I did in fact take it, but it appears I neglected to turn it in, so I realize that technically I am in the wrong here. I apologize for my tone when I spoke to you on Friday afternoon. I know that the tests have been handed back to other students, so you likely can’t be sure if this is the original test or if I cheated. I assure you I did not. However, I’ve taken the liberty of writing an essay concerning the subject matter in said chapters, and I hope you will take this as a sign of good faith, and allow it as compensation to my grade. I know you have no interest in student sob stories, but I have no parents or support system to fall back on, and if I fail this class, I’ll be forced to take time off to work so I can afford to take it again. I’m set to graduate in a few weeks, and I’d be forever grateful if you could find it in your heart to not hinder those plans.

Thank you in advance,

Ben LeClair

Peter frowned at the letter then set it aside. Picking up the essay, he put his feet up on the desk and read it through. It was a compare and contrast piece on Steinbeck’s poverty theme in the novels
Tortilla Flat
and
The
Grapes of Wrath
. Far from an original idea for a paper, but the student’s writing was solid, thorough, and his ideas were insightful and somewhat unique.

Setting the essay aside, he did a scan on the web, checking for signs of plagiarism. It appeared Benjamin’s work was his own. He had to admit he was impressed with the student’s persistence. And relieved the letter contained no mention of seeing him at Thorn’s party, if in fact he’d even been there.

If?

Thorn had mentioned Benjamin’s bright green eyes. And Peter couldn’t stop recalling that face in the window...looking back at him right after he shot his load.

He groaned, rubbing his temples. Peter was far from an exhibitionist, but he’d learned to trust that Thorn’s parties were a sanctuary away from the wrong kind of prying eyes. The idea that a student, especially
that
student, may have watched him have sex was humiliating and made him nauseous. But it was Benjamin’s motivation for doing so that confused him, set his paranoia spinning.

Was it possible that he was there, and it was just an unlucky coincidence? But even if that was the case, why was he watching Peter? Christ, and seeing him like
that
. His gut lurched. But if the student had seen him, he clearly had no plans to address it. It
seemed
he was being discreet. Still, there he was again today, sitting on the fountain, looking directly at Peter. Three days ago he was barely aware Benjamin LeClair existed. Now suddenly he was everywhere. Was he toying with Peter? Drawing this out until he decided to use it to his advantage somehow?

I know you have no interest in student sob stories...

Right. Sob stories, like Reggie Cutler’s ailing mother. It didn’t matter. It was at Peter’s discretion to change Benjamin’s grade, and he felt the student had shown enough initiative to have him do so. To put up a fight over this, when he wasn’t even an English major, would be simply cruel, especially after he’d shown such effort to make up for his mistake.