Obsessed Read online

  Obsessed

  By Ivy Smoak

  Copyright 2021 Ivy Smoak

  All Rights Reserved

  Want a behind-the-scenes look at my journey as an author? The ups, the downs, the movie deals…I’ll share it all!

  And as a special thank you for joining, you’ll get an exclusive copy of a super steamy deleted scene from this book.

  CLICK HERE to join the party!

  To my husband, Ryan.

  You’re the inspiration for James Hunter.

  And it always makes me laugh when you say you’re #TeamTyler.

  CONTENTS

  Title

  PART 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  PART 2

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  PART 3

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Steamy Bonus Scene

  A Note From Ivy

  PART 1

  Chapter 1

  Tuesday

  I stepped out of my car into the falling rain. Some days were hard. I was used to that. This happened to be one of those days. The kind that just kept getting worse. I sidestepped a group of students walking on the sidewalk and my foot landed in a puddle.

  For fuck’s sake. What was I doing here? I loved teaching. But I could teach anywhere in the world. What the hell was I doing in Newark, Delaware? It was a question I kept coming back to. Being here was supposed to make me happy. At first it did. I settled into a routine that worked for me. But now? It felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  I shook the water off my shoe. It was the first day of classes and I had slept through my alarm. That’s why I was in a bad mood. It had nothing to do with Delaware. Or the rain. Or the lack of meaning in my life.

  Get a grip. In fifteen minutes I’d be teaching my first class of the semester. I wasn’t sure I had ever enjoyed anything more than teaching. Why couldn’t I just focus on that? But instead of feeling excited, I felt empty. A feeling that I was all too familiar with. I’d felt empty pretty much my entire life. But I didn’t understand why I had the feeling again now. I had everything I wanted. Finally. Why didn’t my brain understand that?

  I needed coffee. That would fix my mood. I was just tired. I hadn’t slept well since the summer semester let out a few weeks ago. Having no obligations was something that people usually looked forward to. I wasn’t one of those people. Vacations weren’t something I looked forward to in the slightest. I needed constant distractions, not time to let my mind wander.

  I was exhausted. That was it. A coffee that I didn’t have time to grab would certainly fix all my problems.

  “Hi, Professor Hunter,” a girl said and waved as I walked past her. The girl next to her puckered her lips and gave me sex eyes.

  I didn’t have time for this. I was used to the attention around campus. Although I tried my best to ignore it. Or at least shut it down as fast as possible. “Have a good first day of classes,” I said without even really looking at them and then continued walking. Last spring I had been pretty sure one of my students was stalking me. I almost had to file a restraining order. Not engaging was for the best. Besides, it took too much energy to try to be nice especially when I was in a foul mood. And I seemed to always be in a foul mood recently.

  “You too, Professor Hunter!” she said from behind me. The other girl giggled.

  I sighed and didn’t turn back around. I had no interest in dating my students. And they clearly didn’t know anything about me, or they’d be running in the opposite direction rather than batting their fake eyelashes at me. Despite what my brother thought, hooking up with a co-ed was not why I took this job. At all.

  I pushed through the door of the little coffee shop on Main Street.

  The door slammed into someone, splashing coffee down the front of her… I swallowed hard. For just a moment I was transfixed by the droplets of coffee that cascaded down her chest, disappearing beneath her tank top. But then I heard the thud as her cup landed on the ground and it pulled me out of my trance. Just as I was about to force my eyes to her face, she started to slip. I grabbed her waist to prevent her from falling.

  "I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" I asked. I took in the flush of her cheeks. The way she melted into my arms. And the fact that she didn’t look up at me at all. Her eyes were firmly rooted to the ground.

  "I'm fine,” she said. “It wasn't hot anymore."

  I wanted to ask her why she was carrying cold coffee around, but I bit my tongue. It wasn’t any of my business. I should have immediately stepped back, but I couldn’t seem to drop my hands from her waist. And the more she melted into me, the less I wanted to let go. Look at me. She kept her attention on the ground. The blush of her cheeks intensified the longer I held her. I had no desire to ever let her go. I leaned in a little closer. She smelled like something floral that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. But I had a feeling that I could figure it out if I got even closer.

  The buzz of the coffee shop eventually registered in the back of my mind. People would recognize me here. Did she recognize me? I slowly let my hands fall from her waist, wishing that I didn’t have to. "I'm afraid I've ruined your shirt." Stop staring at her chest.

  She stepped back and spread her hands over the stains on her blue tank top, clearly not realizing that she was basically feeling herself up in front of me. And I couldn’t peel my eyes away.

  "Oh, crap, I have an 8 a.m. I don't have time to change,” she said in almost a whisper.

  I couldn’t bear to watch her flounder. Even if I did find the blush of her cheeks intoxicating. "Here.” I put down my satchel and pulled off my sweater. It was too hot today for it anyway. I didn’t realize it outside, but the coffee shop was certainly stifling. Fortunately I was wearing a dress shirt underneath my sweater. And just like this girl, I didn’t have time to go back and change either.

  "That's okay. I can't take that.” She laughed but it sounded forced. "I'll be fine." She stepped to the side so I could pass. Her cheeks flushed even more when I didn’t move.

  She was finally looking at me. I could have gotten lost in her blue eyes. And her red hair was calling for me to sink my fingers into… Breathe. I looked at her backpack. She had just mentioned having an 8 a.m. She was clearly a student. "I insist. First day of classes.” I shrugged. "You'll want to make a good first impression."

  She took the sweater from me. "Thank you.” Her voice was so quiet.

  I studied her as she pulled the sweater over her head. Her thin waist dipped down to a luscious… What the hell was I doing? She’s a student. Luckily the sweater covered her ass so I had to stop staring. Her eyes met mine again. And then it was like she couldn’t look away. Like she couldn’t manage to look anywhere but at me. For just a moment it felt like we were alone.
The coffee shop disappeared.

  "I'm sorry, I have to go, I'm going to be late,” she said.

  I wanted to ask for her name. For her number. Anything. But I pressed my lips together so none of what I was thinking would come out. There was nothing to say. I was a professor. She was a student.

  She smiled and then walked out of the coffee shop. I stared after her. My baggy sweater, a pair of black leggings, and bright red rain boots. She somehow made the combination look like the sexiest thing in the world.

  I shook my head, dismissing the thought. But it was hard to forget that for just a moment, while she was in my arms, it had been easier to breathe.

  Chapter 2

  Wednesday

  It had been another restless night. But for once, I wasn’t plagued with thoughts of my past. My dreams had been consumed by the timid redhead from the coffee shop. All I could focus on was the blush of her cheeks and those bright blue eyes.

  She wasn’t necessarily an undergrad. She easily could have been a grad student. Or maybe she didn’t even go here at all. She could have been on her way to work. But who referred to going to work as having an 8 a.m.? And only students carried backpacks.

  Grad student. That’s what I was hoping for. The possibilities didn’t matter in my dreams, though. I dreamt about wrapping my fingers in her hair and guiding her lips to my…

  Breathe. I had woken up with a hard-on and I was regretting my decision to not relieve myself. I walked into Smith Hall and made my way up the stairs. I needed to focus on the class I was about to teach. But no matter what I thought, my mind kept running back to her.

  Why hadn’t I said anything to her when I had a chance? I could have asked her if she was a student. Or at least asked for her name. For some reason, I'd completely shut down. I'd been captivated by her face. The blush of her cheeks. Why couldn’t I get her out of my head?

  I stopped outside my classroom and pulled my hand down my face. I needed to stop obsessing. We ran into each other once. I was never going to see her again. Which was for the best. She was most likely a student, probably an undergraduate one. I sighed. I had a class to teach. That would at least be a good distraction from her for the next 50 minutes.

  I opened the door to my classroom and walked in. The room immediately fell silent. I dropped my satchel on the desk and turned to my new students. This was one of my favorite parts of teaching. Setting the initial tone for the upcoming semester. Seeing all the new faces and some old ones. "Welcome to Comm 212 - Oral Communication in Business. I am Professor Hunter."

  When my eyes scanned the room, all the air left my lungs.

  There she was. Sitting in the back row of my classroom right next to a window. She was staring out the window, not even listening to me. The sun shining through the window made her hair even brighter. It practically shimmered, drawing all my attention to her.

  Fuck. Me.

  She slowly turned. And made direct eye contact with me. The color immediately rose to her cheeks.

  For just a second, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like someone had punched me right in the gut. Any hope I had that the girl from the coffee shop wasn’t a student was gone. I cleared my throat and forced myself to look away from her. "I know that most of you are seniors and have waited until the last minute to take this class. I haven't met a student yet who was excited about Comm. Heck, I don't even like teaching it."

  Light laughter broke out amongst the students. I kept my eyes off the redhead, even though all I wanted to do was stare. If she was sitting in this class, she was most likely a senior. At least 21, maybe even 22 already. I tried to dismiss the thought. It didn’t matter that she was in her twenties, she was still a student. My student.

  "Seriously, we have to teach this class on a rotating basis. I'm not even sure I'm qualified. I promise it won't be as painful as the rumors have made it out to be, though. I tend to grade rather easily so there's no need to be nervous when you're giving speeches.” I was rambling. I could feel her eyes on me. It was so hard not to stare. “But I like to jump right into things. I'm going to take attendance. When I call your name, please stand and tell me one interesting fact about yourself. Then I'll stop torturing you and you can all leave class early.” I needed to get out of this classroom. I needed to get away from her. I needed time to force myself to stop thinking about the vision of her from my dreams. “Not so bad, right?” I looked down at my class list. Okay, Raymond Asher."

  I stole a glance at the redhead. She was staring at me in horror. I winced and turned away. Why was she looking at me like that? She’s upset that you’re her professor because she wants you too. No, she was probably just embarrassed from the other day. Clearly. Her face was crimson.

  A boy in the middle of the classroom stood up from his desk. "Hi, I'm Ray. Hmmm, one interesting thing about myself? Well, I'm pretty good with the ladies."

  "Yeah right, Ray," the girl beside him teased.

  He tried to kiss the girl on the cheek when he sat back down, but she pulled away.

  What a pompous prick. "Well I can tell we'll all be enjoying your speeches,” I lied. “Ellie Doyle?"

  A girl stood up in the front of the room and began talking, but I tuned her out. Every now and then someone would say something funny. Or they would be so unbearably awkward that it was better that I wasn’t paying attention. I was just waiting to see what her name was. I read through the list on autopilot. I needed a name for that perfect face. A name for my dreams. Jesus. I sat down behind my desk. Just thinking about her was making me hard. What was I, twelve?

  I looked down at my list for what felt like the millionth time. This wasn’t going to be her either. "Tyler Stevens?" I said.

  I had to be getting close. I was near the end of the list and she looked so nervous.

  "Penny Taylor?"

  No one answered. I guess that’s not her. "Penny Taylor?" I asked again, ready to cross the name off my list.

  She slowly stood up. "Hi everyone, I'm Penny."

  I watched her cheeks turn pink. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her she had no need to be nervous. Instead, I stared at her. Penny. It suited her. As soon as I heard it, I couldn’t imagine her name being anything else.

  "Unfortunately, you'll need another of me for my thoughts,” she said and quickly sat back down.

  "Weird," some girl scoffed near the front of the class. A few other people around her snickered.

  Fuck off. That had been the most interesting answer I had ever heard during one of these exercises. I hoped my smile reassured her. "A penny for your thoughts. Well I guess I'll have to bring my piggy bank with me on Friday.” I forced my eyes away from her. “Mia Thompson?"

  But the clanging sound of metal made me snap my eyes back to her. The boy sitting next to her had just tossed a penny onto her desk. He leaned over and whispered something to her.

  My pulse slowed as I watched their exchange. I was tempted to yell at them for talking during my class. But that wasn’t why I was upset. I wanted that boy to stay away from her. What was his name? I scanned the list. Tyler Stevens.

  “Class dismissed,” I said as soon as the last person went. But that didn’t shut Tyler Stevens up. He talked to her for a few more moments before winking at her and leaving the room.

  As soon as he was gone, my eyes landed back on Penny. Her face flushed and she looked down at the ground as she walked toward the door. There was a small, tense smile on her face as she passed by my desk without looking at me.

  I stood up from my chair and reached out for her before my brain could tell me to stop. My fingers grazed down her forearm.

  I saw her shiver from my touch.

  It was almost like I had the opposite reaction. If felt like she had shocked me. And that feeling of being able to breathe easier returned. "Miss Taylor, I'm sorry again about your shirt."

  She folded her arms across her chest. "Oh, no, I'm sorry."

  I tried not to laugh. "Why are you sorry? I was the one that hit you with the
door."

  "I just meant, about taking your sweater. I'll bring it back."

  "No rush. I have quite a few," I gestured to the one I was wearing. It was identical to the one I had given her, except it was a different color. I had put it on because I had been thinking of her this morning. And all last night. And all day yesterday.

  She looked up into my eyes. My fantasies from the previous night wanted to escape. My eyes wandered to her lips. Her perfectly kissable lips. It was like they were begging for my attention.

  "I didn't realize you were a professor," she said.

  I smiled and forced myself to stop staring at her lips. Maybe I was right about why she looked shocked to see me walk into the classroom. Her flushed cheeks. The way she was staring at me. She wants me. She wishes I wasn’t a professor. The thought was numbing. It didn’t matter if she did. She was my student for Christ’s sake. "It's more fun when students think of me as their peer. I believe it fosters better learning." It was the most professional answer I could think of.

  She didn’t say anything. She just stared at me and then suddenly looked embarrassed. "Well I should probably go. I'll see you Friday, Professor Hunter."

  I was used to my students calling me that. I had been a professor for a while now. But there was something about the way she said it that affected me. I could just imagine her moaning it when I was on top of her. Stop. I nodded to her as she walked away. "Miss Taylor."

  After she exited the room, I realized that I hadn’t even handed out a syllabus. So much for setting the tone for the semester.

  Chapter 3

  Wednesday

  Breathe in. Breathe out. I tried to slow my breath and focus on it like my therapist had instructed. A deep breath in. A slower breath out. But there was a reason why I was running instead of meditating. Or doing the yoga Dr. Clark suggested. One thing I liked about the life I left behind in New York City was the fast pace. It was hard to just switch that off because I was in a new state. And I tended to like to do things fast.

  I ran on the brick path around the green and tried to focus straight ahead, even though my eyes wanted to wander. Normally I liked to run where the students weren’t. During the day meant a run on Main Street because the restaurants weren’t frequented as much until nighttime. After dinner meant a run on the green because students were done walking to classes for the day. I avoided the free access to the University gym altogether. I’d only made that mistake once. And I usually skipped the one in my building too, because it was a little easier to breathe slowly when I was outside. That was one great thing about leaving NYC. The air was cleaner. So Main Street and the green were my main options, at the designated time to avoid students.