The Billionaire Professor 2 (2015)

Chapter 5




Carly and I approached Max after class the following day. We told him what we needed and what we intended to do. At first he seemed elated.

We went to his office. He let out what could only be described as a sigh of concern as we all sat – him on one side of his desk, Carly and I on the other. The question for me, though, was what was he concerned about.

I wasn’t sure that he was more concerned that the police investigation always seemed to point back to him or that Carly and I proposed digging through his past. Nonetheless, he appeared to be cooperating fully with us. He quickly gave us the names of the three remaining ex-wives of his.

We did get a bit personal, even to the point of asking the circumstances under which he and his former wives parted. If we were going to be of any help to him, though, we needed to know as much as we possibly could.

I didn’t see anything too surprising about any of the information he had given us – at least so far. Let’s face it, once you realize that Maxwell St. James was a sexual-loving man who had difficulty staying married, you understand a lot about him. But, he’s not singular in his love of sex. He indeed has a desire, or should I call it a need, of multiple partners. It happened to millions of men. Not to mention women.

Something odd happened, though, when we started talking about individuals who might hold a grudge against him. A grudge, large enough, that is, that the person would like to see him serving time in prison for murder.

While he offered a few names, mostly former art auction bidding competitors, especially those who were prevented from buying a masterpiece because of his unlimited bank account. I wondered if it were just me that noted his hesitancy or did Carly sense it too.

As much as I loved being in the same room as the man, basking in the glorious scent of his cologne reminded me of the one of the many episodes from our last sexual encounter.

What I needed more than anything was to strip him naked and suck his dick. Why even mince words?

Good God, woman, I suddenly thought, we’re trying to ensure Max’s freedom to keep him from going to prison for a very long time – okay, trying to prevent him from spending the rest of his natural life in prison. So what’s in the forefront of my mind? Screwing him beyond his (and mine) wildest dreams.




God! Was that an uncomfortable situation! I love Jazmin with all my heart; I’ve never had better sex in my life. But if she discovered my secret . . . oh damn! With all the digging and investigating these two are planning to do, one of them is bound to find out about my past.

I should own up now and get it in the open before Carly or someone else tells her. As the ladies were scribbling down nearly every word I said, there was a knock at the door.

Without thinking and without even going to the door, I invited the person in. “Max, you haven’t changed a bit. You’re holding court to two beautiful women. My, how do you do it?”




The knock at the door provided the distraction I needed. Max invited the person at the door in casually without even glancing toward to door. My eyes immediately lifted to see who it was. There stood a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to . . . .


Who knew there were two of them?

Before we could even ask, the visitor greeted Max. “Yo, brother! See you just can’t stay out of trouble.” He paused a beat after realizing that Carly and I were in the room with him.

“And you, brother, always know how to make an entrance.”

Max bolted out of his chair and nearly sprinted over to – yes, his brother. They engaged in a long, familiar bear hug. Then Max took a step backward. “You’re aging very well, little brother.”

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” the man volleyed. Then his eyes caught sight of Carly and me. “I apologize for interrupting.” He stared at me and exclaimed, “I would know that lovely face anywhere. You must be Jazmin Donovan.”

I blushed fifty shades of red as Max made proper introductions. It turned out the man was Paul St. James, not only the younger brother of Max, but a Pulitzer award-winning reporter for The New York Times.

I thought Carly would swoon when she shook his hand. Max turned toward Paul and asked, “What’s so important that pulls you away from New York City?”

“You want an honest answer? It’s you big brother, you!”

I quickly closed my notebook and pushed it in my backpack. “I think it’s time we leave, right Carly?”

Carly’s eyes were still transfixed on Paul, who was also endowed with every gorgeous physical feature Max had and perhaps a few more of his own unique attributes.

“Carly, come on, we need to go.” That last comment finally broke her concentration and reluctantly agreed.