Teacher in Heat Read online

  Teacher in Heat

  A 6,000-word short story

  Anna Wineheart

  Contents

  1. Teacher in Heat

  Afterword

  Omega Teacher’s Baby

  Omega’s Stepbrother

  The Omega’s Secret Pregnancy

  About the Author

  Copyright Anna Wineheart 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  * * *

  This novel contains graphic sexual content between two men. Intended for mature readers only.

  Warnings: Self-lubricated butts

  * * *

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  1

  Teacher in Heat

  It was 9 AM, and three cups of coffee were barely enough. Dale rubbed his temples, staring at the stack of ungraded assignments on his desk.

  They were due in an hour. He’d promised his CM 2110 class he’d return by this week, but... he wasn’t feeling up to it. His heat was especially bad this time around. His entire body ached, and there was a tiny nagging in his belly that said, Find an alpha. Find someone with a good, hard knot to fuck you with.

  Not the best time to be teaching a class, especially when anyone could smell the musk rolling off him.

  Dale winced. He’d taken his heat suppressants. They weren’t working so well this time, though. He’d tried all the herbal remedies he knew, tried a deodorant, and had gotten to work early so he could miss the rush hour on the bus. Not that the Meadowfall rush hour was very crowded at all, but still.

  If his TA were around, he’d have asked to borrow her alpha scent, so at least the alphas in his class wouldn’t look at him like he were a piece of meat. But June was off on a surprise sabbatical with her girlfriend—I’m going to propose to Cher, she’d whispered excitedly. Dale hadn’t had the heart to say no when she’d asked, and now she was gone for two full weeks.

  So he was alone, nursing his fourth mug of coffee, staring at the organic chemistry homework he’d collected two weeks ago.

  And just because the world hated him, Greg’s assignment had to be the first on the pile.

  Dale gulped. He remembered that lecture, too. When Greg had waited until the end of class, until everyone else had submitted their assignment. Then he’d stepped up to the podium, set his worksheet on the top of the rest, and looked Dale in the eye.

  Want to grab some coffee with me? Greg had asked.

  Dale had fumbled through his reply, declining. He couldn’t remember what exactly he’d said. Greg’s eyes had cut away, and he’d stalked through the lecture hall doorway, his shoulders slouched.

  Dale sighed. He should just grade the assignments and go to class. But Greg Hasting had been watching him every lecture since the first day of school, and Dale... had a bit of a crush on Greg.

  No, scratch that. Dale didn’t have a crush on anyone. He just happened to think that Greg looked beautiful, with his broad shoulders, his black eyes, his chestnut hair all spiked up like he usually styled it. He most definitely had not dreamed about Greg’s chest, his lovely biceps, his jeans hugging his strong thighs.

  For someone who was forty-two, Dale shouldn’t be lusting after his student at all. He’d been in this office for a decade. He almost had his tenure. His dreams shouldn’t be filled with a boy who was barely twenty-two, who would attend school at Meadowfall College for another two years, then move on to big towns and bigger dreams.

  He swallowed, pulling the first assignment off the stack. When he brought it to his nose, it was mingled with other smells—the floral scents of omegas, the grassy scents of betas.

  But he caught that familiar aspen scent beneath it all, the woodsy aroma that was undoubtedly Greg, and for a minute, he imagined Greg’s crinkled eyes, the quirk of his lips, the way he looked over his shoulder at Dale, as though checking to see he was still at his desk.

  His heart thumped.

  Dale slapped the assignment back onto the pile, swearing at himself. He was old. Past forty, he wasn’t quite so good for bearing children anymore. The thought of Greg looking at him with dark eyes, stepping close, reaching for him... Well. Dale wasn’t under any illusions. At twenty-two and on the basketball team, Greg would be better off with a younger omega, someone who could give him a family.

  Dale wasn’t in Greg Hasting’s league at all.

  He gulped, sliding Greg’s assignment to the bottom of the pile. Then he grabbed his red pen and uncapped it.

  He’d grade the rest of the assignments first. If he finished them all, he’d hand them out to the class today. If he didn’t... well, then perhaps they’d have to wait another week.

  An hour later and still aching, he found himself at the chemistry wing classrooms, two minutes before the bell rang. Students loitered around the corridors, waiting for the classrooms to empty out so they could head in.

  Dale hugged the worksheets to himself. He’d graded them all on time—well, most of them. By the time he’d reached Greg’s assignment, it was five minutes to class, and he’d shoved it back to the bottom of the pile. Greg could wait, probably. Dale would return everyone else’s assignments first.

  He stepped into the hallway, weaving between chattering students. Then he felt the faint prickle of a stare. Someone was watching him. And Dale didn’t have to guess who it was, because it was the same alpha every time.

  He looked up anyway.

  Across the crowded hallway, Greg Hastings looked back at him, his gaze steady. Dale’s heart missed a beat. Of course Greg would be watching him. He never knew why Greg did, but Greg paid attention to him, and it was enough to send heat sweeping up his cheeks.

  His body hummed, needing touch. Dale swore. In the midst of grading his assignments, he’d forgotten to pop another suppressant. Some of the other students glanced at him, but he never looked back as he strode by, hoping they’d forget his scent.

  Gods, being in heat was a colossal pain. Surely professors were allowed to skip heats. That would be nice.

  Dale slowed down when he approached his classroom, waiting for the previous class to vacate. They were running late. And he needed a teacher’s desk to hide behind, so he could avoid standing in the hallway, defenseless against twenty-two-year-old alphas. Like the one walking toward him.

  Even before he stopped, Greg’s nostrils flared. Dale pretended to look away, but he knew Greg was sniffing at him. Then he sniffed again, and his tongue darted over his lips. Like he was hungry.

  A thrill shot down Dale’s spine. He needed to grab a cold shower, maybe ten, and never step out of his bathroom ever again.

  Inches away, Greg stopped, his gaze coasting hot down Dale’s body, from his chest to his hips to his shoes, and back up. He was shameless. And Dale loved it. Loved how Greg could do whatever he wanted, without fear of repercussions. But he was also young, and maybe that counted for his recklessness.

  All he knew about Greg was that he’d started school at Meadowfall College last year. He wanted to be a scientist. His parents paid his tuition; no outstanding bills, and a very clean record. All A’s in his schoolwork, too. And he played football three times a week. Probably the perfect student.

  “Where’s your alpha?” Greg
rumbled, meeting his eyes. His voice sounded like thunder on a rainy day, and Dale couldn’t get enough of it.

  “What alpha?” Dale blurted, then remembered June. His TA, who was kind enough to dab her wrists over his face during his heats, so he could pretend he had a partner, and no one else would bother him. Except June was gone, and Dale didn’t have an excuse to hide behind right now. “That’s not an appropriate question. I’m your professor.”

  Greg’s gaze dropped to Dale’s neck, where his scent gland was. Dale gulped. There wasn’t any marking there. Dale had never bonded, even if he’d slept with others on and off. Then Greg glanced at Dale’s wrist, and of course there weren’t any markings there, either.

  “You broke up with June?” Greg asked, his eyes boring into Dale’s. Dale’s pulse rushed through his ears, blocking out all other sounds except Greg’s voice.

  Oh, gods, he wanted Greg to pin him. He wanted to have Greg’s babies, and this was 10 AM on a Wednesday. Not appropriate at all.

  The bell screamed above his head. Dale jumped, his heart slamming into his ribs. He jerked away from Greg. He needed to get behind his desk, so he didn’t have to read I want to fuck you in Greg’s eyes. Except Dale was kind of wet, too, and maybe Greg could already smell that. He squirmed.

  The classroom doors banged open. Students swarmed out into the hallway, a potent mix of woodsy, grassy, and floral scents in the air. Dale sagged with relief.

  Behind him, Greg stepped closer, just enough that his heat radiated through the space between them. He bumped his arm into Dale’s, warm and solid, and Dale’s throat went dry. The rest of Greg’s body had to be hot, too. Greg could press up against him, and he’d lose track of all his thoughts, just feeling the solid wall of Greg’s chest on his.

  Why he’d avoided dating, he couldn’t remember right now. Maybe it was because he preferred books. Maybe it was because of his glasses. Or because he’d never thought he’d looked any good, all thin and tall—Greg was half a head shorter than him, his shoulders broad, his body toned.

  Or maybe it was because Dale still carried the voices from his past with him: You’re too boring. You’re always so busy with your research. You don’t have wide-enough hips, that’ll give you a bad childbirth.

  They didn’t reflect his worth, but damn if he couldn’t keep those voices out of his head. What Greg saw in him, Dale had no idea. He was afraid to find out. Maybe all Greg wanted was another notch in his belt, and... maybe Dale was hoping for more than that. Maybe he didn’t want to hear the truth, because not knowing hurt less than being left behind.

  The moment he glimpsed space in the classroom doorway, Dale squeezed through it, flushing hot and cold, his skin too tight.

  The rest of the students trailed in behind him. Some of them looked questioningly over, but Dale ducked his head, setting the graded assignments at the corner of his desk, and the class schedule in front of his seat. His belly ached with his heat.

  “I’ll be going through two assignments today,” he said as the last of the students filed in. He drew the answers for the first worksheet on the whiteboard. “You should have completed the homework on nanoparticles. In a while, I’ll return the graded assignments on semiconducting solids.”

  Things went easier as he settled into the rhythm of teaching. He pretended that the students absolutely needed to know the differences between nanoparticles and nano dots, and the different ways nanoparticles were synthesized. He explained the unusual properties of nano materials, why research had bloomed in this field, and the iron nanoparticles his own research group was working on.

  Dale kept talking, because he was afraid that if he stopped, he would start imagining what he looked like to Greg, standing in front of the classroom like this. It would crumble all his confidence.

  He was forty-two. No student wanted a companion this old.

  The minutes flew by as he explained the homework questions. The stack of graded assignments drifted through the classroom, students picking out their own work. Dale lost track of where it went.

  Twenty minutes before the end of class, he started on the questions from the graded assignment.

  A hand waved in the air. Greg.

  Dale’s stomach flipped. Gods, what did he want?

  For a second, Dale thought about ignoring him. If he turned around and explained five questions, Greg would give up and put his hand down.

  Except the other students would start to notice his waving, and they might still remember it when they filled in their end-of-semester survey. Dale wanted his tenure. He couldn’t let his unease stop him from answering a question. “Yes, Greg?”

  “You didn’t grade my assignment.” Greg’s eyes met his, black and steady, and Dale couldn’t look away.

  He barely knew this boy. Greg had stepped up to his podium multiple times through half the semester, asking questions about the lectures. He was bright, he read the textbooks ahead of the classes, and he noticed little things, like Dale’s shoelaces about to unravel, or the shirts Dale had forgotten to iron, or the splotch of red ink on Dale’s cheek that he’d worn through multiple classes.

  If Dale had turned down all his invitations for coffee, well. That was only appropriate.

  Except there was this assignment. Dale had forgotten to grade it. And now the entire class was staring at Dale, waiting for him to say something and move on. He gulped.

  “I’ll grade it after class,” he said, heat creeping up his neck. “Could you hang on to it for now?”

  “I’ll come by your office,” Greg said.

  “Sure,” Dale said, because he didn’t think he had another choice. Except Greg in his office was something he’d been trying to avoid all semester. Because it would be just the two of them, and he wanted Greg’s scent on him, wanted Greg closer.

  Blood surged down his body. His pants were tight, and Dale couldn’t turn around to face the class at all. They’d see the outline of his cock. Greg would see, and he couldn’t let Greg find out how much he needed him.

  He spoke over his shoulder, raising his voice to compensate for the bad angle. Dale tried to focus on question after question of semiconducting solids, the intricacies of electrons and band gaps, and everything he said was something he’d memorized from long ago. He couldn’t think about anything but the pressure between his legs.

  By the time he got to the last question, he was sweating a little, his skin damp, his throat dry. He probably smelled like hormones, and everyone probably knew he was in heat. And he didn’t have an alpha’s scent on him. How embarrassing.

  He couldn’t meet Greg’s eyes at all.

  Dale said, “That’s all for today. Feel free to email me if you have any questions. I won’t be in my office this afternoon, but you can come by tomorrow.”

  He scooped up all the loose sheets on his desk, feeling the prickle of Greg’s eyes on him, hot and hungry. His heat throbbed through his limbs, intensifying the ache in his body. He needed to hide away. Needed Greg pressing up against him, inside him.

  Dale swept out of the classroom, thinking about the horrendous amount of musk he must’ve left behind, his cheeks scorching. Hopefully, he’d score okay on the student survey this time. Hopefully, he hadn’t blown his chances of tenure into smithereens. Working as a professor had been a childhood dream.

  With how early he’d ended the class, the hallways were almost empty. Dale strode past the cream-colored walls, needing to hide his face until his students forgot he existed.

  Which professor was afraid of his students? Which professor dreamed of his student in bed with him?

  Halfway back to his office, Greg said behind him, “Professor.”

  Dale’s heart crashed into his ribs, and his cock was so hard he was surprised the zipper held. He slid his papers in front of his hips, and kept walking.

  “Professor!”

  Dale walked faster. Who was he kidding, trying to flee? Except he tried anyway, weaving down the hallways and up the stairs, until he reached his office.
r />   Three steps from his office door, Greg closed the distance between them, grabbing his arm.

  “Professor,” he said, turning Dale to face him.

  Greg smelled like musk, like arousal, and his eyes bore right into Dale’s. Then his gaze dragged down, past Dale’s throat to his chest, to his belly. Dale hadn’t realized that Greg had pulled his papers away from his hips, leaving the hard line in his pants painfully obvious. Greg licked his lips, as though he imagined tasting Dale.

  Dale’s throat went completely dry.

  “What?” he gasped, painfully aware of the scents they were leaving in the hallway. A mix of aspen and musk, and his own hibiscus scent. “I need to—to get in my office first. Please.”

  Greg released him. Dale pulled his key from his pocket, his hand shaking with how much he needed. He unlocked the door. Shoved it open. He was three steps into the little room when Greg walked in behind him and turned the lock.

  The sound rang through the room like a deadbolt sliding home.

  Dale leaked in his pants, leaked down his thighs, and he didn’t know how he could refuse Greg right now. His body said, Climb him. Take his cock. Fuck him.

  “Your alpha isn’t taking care of you,” Greg said from somewhere behind.

  Dale dropped his papers on his desk, not caring that they scattered across its surface, fluttering onto the floor. “M-my alpha. Uh.”

  Behind him, Greg’s nostrils flared. His gaze darted over Dale’s desk, over his photo frames, the various pictures of Dale and his students over the years. “June’s not your alpha?” he asked, his eyes widening, as though he was realizing this for the first time.

  Dale hesitated. More and more frequently, June had been lending Dale her scent—because Dale didn’t know how to deal with Greg’s interest, because he was trying to find excuses not to sleep with Greg. Because his own self-control barely existed at all.