Time and again, Micah revisited that memory when Spike touched him on the arm, or let his gaze drift down Micah’s chest.
Spike... he was Micah’s secret, the one thing Micah could never tell anyone.
How could he, when Spike was two decades younger, and also his student? And over the past year, he’d become York’s close friend?
It was one thing to stare at your student, or to try to shut down his flirting.
It was a completely different thing to think about your student in bed, spreading your legs, pretending that those fingers thrusting inside you were a certain blond’s.
Micah knew he shouldn’t. There had been professor-student relationships in the chemistry department, and the professors had been fired because of it.
But when an alpha had been hitting on you for weeks, and when no one had ever given you this much attention... Micah had dreamed about Spike’s hungry smile, he’d imagined Spike bending him over, squeezing his cock.
Maybe even easing his length inside Micah, filling him up.
Micah’s throat went dry. His heat throbbed through his bones, raking down his spine. He looked back at his email, trying to force his thoughts to cooperate.
It was obvious that Spike wanted Micah as another notch on his belt.
How much of an accomplishment was it, to say you’d fucked your disfigured professor? Would Spike brag about it to his friends? Or his just-as-handsome brother?
Micah flushed, his cheeks growing hot.
Unlike Spike with his easy smiles, his gelled blond hair and copper eyes, Kai Ventura intimidated Micah. It wasn’t his dark hair or his thundercloud-gray eyes, or even his surliness.
It was Kai’s stare—it felt as though he saw through everything, and found Micah lacking. Even though Micah was older and had more power than him.
If Micah ever gave in to Spike, Kai would find out, wouldn’t he? And he’d judge Micah more than ever. Maybe he would even pass the information along to the department heads.
Micah’s stomach twisted.
He fumbled with his laptop, pulling open an internet browser. He didn’t want to look at his work email anymore.
The browser loaded the last website he’d visited—it was a porn site, and he’d been in his own bedroom. The list of videos had refreshed; the first video began to play. Micah was supposed to turn off that auto-play setting.
Before he could pause the video, tanned skin flashed. So much skin. Gleaming muscles, thick thighs, thrusting hips.
On a mini stage in the video, a group of half-naked alphas danced to the muted music. They were dressed in Santa hats, and scraps of crimson fabric fluttered around their hips.
They wore nothing else.
Micah stared, his heat thrumming under his skin, whispering in his mind, You want to climb onto someone’s lap. Sit on one of those thick cocks and let him fill you up. He’ll pound into you good and hard.
Micah gulped.
The video zoomed in on one alpha in particular—broad chest, bulging biceps. A confident smirk that almost dropped Micah’s shorts.
Gods, it was Spike. And Spike was nineteen.
Micah watched the video with growing horror and arousal, unable to tear his eyes away. In the video, Spike grinned, spun in a circle, and leaped into the air. When he landed, he had both hands pressed over his groin, as though the fabric had flown off his cock in an indecent display.
What had that looked like?
With a smile, Spike continued to dance, rolling his hips, snapping them up. Then he thrust his hips so hard, his cock flipped the fabric clean off his thighs. He had a nice cock. Thick, big.
Micah’s blood swooped south. I need to stop watching. I need to close the video before York sees.
But he couldn’t. Spike turned, bent over, and the curves of his ass peeked from beneath the red fabric. It looked firm, strong. And between his thighs, Micah glimpsed his heavy balls and cock, fertile and tantalizing. His pulse throbbed between his legs.
Why is he in this video? More importantly, Micah needed to get back into his bedroom. And lock the door behind him.
On the screen, Spike smoothed his palm down his cock. Then he thrust his hips again, looking right at the camera like he was saying, This is how I’ll fuck inside you. Micah’s hole squeezed.
“Dad, you didn’t ans—Ew, what the fuck?” York stopped behind him, his eyes growing wide in horror. “And is that Spike? I swear—”
Micah flailed, his heart lodging in his throat. He lurched off the couch. The laptop slipped off his knees and thumped onto the floor, its screen winking out.
“I-I...” Micah wanted to be one of those parents who had all the composure in the world. But there was a bulge in his shorts, his laptop had quit working, and he couldn’t scrub that video from his mind. He’d been ogling York’s friend. His student.
“I know you’re in heat,” York said incredulously. “But that’s my friend!”
Micah pressed his hand down between his legs, trying to hide his erection. His ears burned.
“Gods, Dad, you need to get laid,” York said. Then he cringed. “But not my friends, okay? That’s just wrong.”
Don’t I know that.
The doorbell rang. York winced. “That’s probably them.”
Had they heard York telling Micah to get laid? Micah flushed, needing to burrow under the floorboards.
“Yell if you need me,” he blurted. Then he scrambled out of the living room, his shorts damp with the slick of his heat, his musk trailing after him through the apartment.
There were many ways to be a good professor, but fantasizing about your student, and leaving hints of your arousal everywhere—those weren’t things Micah should be doing at all.
2
Spike
York had given them the green light. Spike punched the air, doing a victory dance. “Finally! I thought he was never gonna agree.”
Kai rolled his eyes. “All you want to do is get into Davis’ bed.”
“Hey, he’s never let us set one toe into
