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Dedicated to E.L.
Danielle shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable as she absorbed Professor Davis's history lecture. It wasn't difficult for her, or anyone else in her class, to pay attention to Davis, since he was one of the youngest faculty members. He was also by far the most attractive and open-minded, making his classes both intellectual and contemporary. Registration for this class filled up within the first hour, with female students consisting of the overwhelming majority.
She watched the students around her gazing admiringly at Davis as he paced slowly around the front of the auditorium, making eye contact with almost every member of his audience as he launched on a heated diatribe about sixties politics. Danielle loved this particular era of history, which was why she had taken the class in the first place, unbeknownst to her that her professor would be so breathtakingly delicious that she would have to fight to control her urges for hours at a time, every week, for the rest of the semester. Thankfully, she had just handed in her midterm paper last class, meaning she only had to endure her sexual frustration for another six weeks.
"For next class, I want you to think about the ways in which mass media played a role in positively and negatively construing race and gender in the late sixties." Davis smiled. "Have a great weekend, everyone."
His students grudgingly packed up their belongings, reluctant to part ways with their beloved Professor for the weekend. Danielle saw that Jade and Lexi had called her while she was in class, no doubt trying to snag her company for the evening. Before returning their calls, she needed to talk to Davis, who was surrounded by a bunch of smitten female students.
Danielle waited her turn, taking the time to continue reading her novel, Kingdom of Fear. She was just finishing the chapter when she realized that she and Davis were the only ones left in the classroom, and her Professor was staring intently at her. She slammed the book shut, feeling slightly naked under his stare.
"You look so absorbed when you read," he told her with a smile.
"Yes, well, it's a great book," she replied, handing it to him. He looked down at the cover, nodding approvingly and giving it back to her.
"Hunter S. Thompson is a favorite of mine, too," he said, leaning against the podium. "He's raw, to the point, poetic without being highhanded about it."
She nodded, listening raptly to him, his deep yet melodic voice entrancing her. "His descriptions just make the characters and scenes come to life... they hijack the imagination."
He smiled at her and leaned against his desk, covered in papers and books, but made no gesture to arrange them or put them away.
"Did you have a question for me, Danielle?" he asked, her name unexpectedly slipping off his tongue like silk. She wondered how he knew her, since there were at least three hundred other people in her class.
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