The Hot Untouchable Lecturer IV

BY the third day of the tutoring session, a rhythm had formed. Sessions had become structured, disciplined and predictable. At least… on the surface. Zayne leaned back slightly in his chair, pen tapping lightly against his notebook as Ms. Lesley moved across the board, explaining a concept for what felt like the third time. Her handwriting was neat and precise, just like everything else about her. She was nothing but controlled, careful and untouchable. And yet… his eyes didn’t stay on the board for long. They drifted, and to her. To the way she carried herself, every movement deliberate, every step measured. The soft sway of her hips when she walked. The way she paused ever so slightly when she knew— knew— he was looking. Because she did know. And he had caught it. Not once, not twice, several times now. Those quick and sharp glances, almost accidental, but not quite. She would look at him like she was studying him, like he was just another subject to analyze, but then there was something else beneath it. Something warmer. Something… curious. Something that didn’t belong in a room like this. Zayne suppressed a faint smile, lowering his gaze back to his notebook as if he hadn’t noticed anything at all. “Are you following?” her voice cut in, calm and firm. He looked up immediately. “Yeah.” Her eyes met his and held, for a second too long. Then she turned back to the board. “Good. Then solve the next one.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, but his focus wasn’t entirely on the work in front of him. It was on her, on the subtle shifts. The way her voice sometimes softened without warning. The way she avoided standing too close to him, like proximity itself was something dangerous. Like he was dangerous. And that made it even more interesting. Because Ms. Lesley didn’t seem like the type to lose control. Yet lately, she was slipping. He scribbled something down before glancing up again, catching her mid-turn. For a brief moment, she wasn’t looking at the board. She was looking at him. And not as a lecturer, not even as someone correcting or observing, but as a woman. It was fleeting, gone almost instantly. But it was enough. Zayne looked back down quickly, hiding the smirk that threatened to form. So he wasn’t imagining it. Good. That meant this, whatever this was, was real. “Your answer?” she prompted. He looked up, composed. “I’m working on it.” “Work faster.” A small pause. Then, softer she spoke. “You are capable of more than this.” That made him glance at her again, really looking this time. And there it was again, not just authority, not just expectation, something else. Something she was trying very hard to bury. Zayne leaned back slightly, studying her in a way that was far more intentional now. He noticed everything. The way her fingers tightened slightly around the marker. The controlled rise and fall of her chest. The way she kept her distance, but never too far. Like she was caught between stepping closer and pulling away completely. Hmm. Interesting, very interesting. He finished the problem and slid the notebook slightly forward. She walked over to him, heels clicking softly against the floor, and for a moment, she hesitated. Then she leaned in. Close enough for him to catch the faintest trace of her scent. Her hand rested lightly on the edge of the desk as she looked over his work. “You are improving,” she said quietly. Zayne didn’t respond immediately, because right now, she was too close. And he could feel the tension she was pretending wasn’t there. He tilted his head slightly, his voice lower when he spoke. “That is because I have got a good teacher.” She stiffened just slightly and he slowly smiled. Ms. Lesley straightened almost immediately, stepping back as if she had just realized how near she was. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she said, her tone returning to its usual firmness. “You still have a long way to go.” “Mm,” he hummed lightly, leaning back again. Across the room, Ms. Lesley picked up her marker again, but her thoughts were no longer on the lesson. This was getting dangerous and she knew it. The way her control slipped in small, almost unnoticeable moments. The way her attention lingered where it shouldn’t. The way he looked at her now. Her grip tightened slightly, this had to stop before it turned into something she couldn’t undo. But even as she told herself that, one thought refused to leave her mind. The fact that he noticed. And somehow, that made it worse. *** The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the hallway as students filtered out of lecture rooms in clusters, laughing, arguing, making plans. Zayne leaned casually against the wall just outside the lecture building, one foot propped behind him, his expression thoughtful in a way that didn’t go unnoticed. Connor noticed everything. “You have been quiet,” he said, crossing his arms. “That is not normal.” Zayne exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before glancing around briefly. Then he leaned in slightly. “I think she wants me.” Connor blinked. “…What?” Zayne didn’t even hesitate. “Ms. Lesley.” Connor stared at him for a solid second before letting out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You are joking.” “I’m serious.” “No— you are actually not serious,” Connor pushed back, shaking his head. “We are talking about her, right? Ms. Ice Queen? The one nobody even breathes wrong around?” Zayne smirked faintly. “Yeah. That one.” Connor let out a low whistle, dragging a hand down his face. “Nah… I don’t buy it.” “I’m telling you what I see,” Zayne replied calmly. “The way she looks at me? That is not just lecturer-student.” Connor narrowed his eyes slightly, studying him now. “Or maybe you are just seeing what you want to see.” Zayne chuckled under his breath. “I know the difference.” A pause. Connor shifted his weight, lowering his voice. “Bro… do you even hear yourself right now? That woman is—” he let out a breath, searching for the right word, “—untouchable.” Zayne’s brow lifted slightly. “Untouchable?” “Yeah,” Connor said firmly. “Even the coaches talk about her. Say she doesn’t mix with anybody. Students, staff— doesn’t matter. She is strict, focused… and fine as hell.” Zayne didn’t disagree. He couldn’t. Connor continued, “Half the guys here have tried, one way or another. Nothing. She shuts it down before it even starts.” Zayne tilted his head slightly, unconvinced. “Maybe they weren’t her type.” Connor laughed. “Oh, so now you are her type?” Zayne’s lips curved just a little. “Maybe.” Connor shook his head again, but there was a hint of curiosity creeping in now. “If what you are saying is even half true…” He trailed off, then smirked. “Man, you are lucky.” Zayne didn’t respond immediately, because “lucky” wasn’t exactly the word he would have used, but it wasn’t wrong either. Connor’s expression shifted slightly, more thoughtful now. “You know she was married, right?” Zayne glanced at him. “Was?” “Yeah. Divorced.” Connor shrugged. “Heard it didn’t end well. Something about… I don’t know, she couldn’t give him kids or something like that.” Zayne’s expression changed subtly, but enough. Connor continued, lowering his voice a bit more. “Since then? She has just been… like that. Closed off. Focused. No distractions.” Zayne looked away briefly, his jaw tightening just a little. That added something new to the picture, something deeper. Something that made her restraint make more sense, but it also made those moments— the looks, the hesitation, the tension mean more. “Still,” Connor added, nudging him lightly, “don’t get carried away. You are playing with fire if you are wrong.” Zayne let out a quiet breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And what if I’m not?” Before Connor could respond, a familiar voice cut in— “There you are.” Both of them straightened slightly. Mara stood a few steps away, arms crossed, eyes moving between them with quiet suspicion. “You guys look deep in something,” she said, her tone light— but her gaze sharp. “What are you talking about?” Connor answered too quickly. “Nothing.” Zayne shot him a smooth brief look. She raised a brow. “Nothing?” “Just school stuff,” Zayne added, more composed. “School stuff that requires whispering?” she pressed, stepping closer now. Connor let out a small laugh. “You are overthinking it.” She didn’t look convinced. Her eyes lingered on Zayne a second longer than necessary, like she was trying to read something beneath the surface. And maybe she sensed it. That shift and distraction could tell. “Hmm,” she murmured, not fully satisfied. “Alright.” But her tone said otherwise. The tension hung there for a moment before she turned slightly. “Come on. Let’s go.” Zayne pushed off the wall, falling into step beside her without another word. Connor followed, glancing once at Zayne with a look that clearly said this isn’t over. As they walked away, Zayne’s expression remained calm, but his mind was somewhere else entirely, because now, it wasn’t just a feeling, it wasn’t just a guess. It was a possibility. And if there was one thing Zayne didn’t do, it was ignore something that interested him.