Teacher's Pet Complete Series Page 3

  I couldn’t agree less, but I had to do what he asked or lose my job for a second time. I reached for the tests, but before I picked them up, I realized I would have to dig my fingers dangerously close to his crotch. Was that the point? My eyes flew to his face, and his mouth was curled in a challenging grin. I wasn't averse to picking up the test papers; we both knew I wasn't trying to grab his unmentionables. But, was he trying to bait me into doing something that appeared inappropriate so he could fire me? I had to choose my next move carefully because he obviously wasn't giving me any credit for being smart.

  “Um, why can’t you pick them up yourself? They’re right there in your lap.” I waved casually at the papers like it shouldn't be a big deal for him to put them on the desk himself, and he chuckled like I had suggested a king muck the stables.

  “Because I’d rather you do it. And, the most important reason is because what I say goes. You’d do well to remember that.”

  I stood there, not moving, staring at the large stack of papers atop his muscular thighs. His legs were slightly gapped and oddly inviting. Briefly I wondered if I had misread the wily professor. Or, maybe he had read me all too well. I licked my suddenly dry lips, fighting my unwanted sexual attraction to this infuriating man. I wanted to touch him…to accidentally brush his crotch with my hand…to lean my full breasts a little too closely to his face. I sucked in a breath as I tried to steady myself and realized he was still watching me closely like he saw right through me.

  “Well?” he prodded. “The papers aren’t going to move themselves.” He slid down in his seat, relaxing his posture and moved his legs apart just enough to stop the tests from falling to the floor. “You have a job to do, Ms. Minnelli, and I’m not the most patient man in the world.”

  I had a strange, mixed feeling of repulsion and attraction for him at that moment, bossing me around like he did. I really needed to get a life. Had I gotten so bored and lonely that weird and offensive things turned me on? Looking down at him was sending tingles across my skin like a brisk winter breeze. I prayed that I wouldn’t get any visible goose bumps. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction. “Fine,” I conceded. My legs trembled. I forced myself to move closer, and I hated myself for the way my body responded to the proximity. I bit my bottom lip to tamp down my urges.

  “By the way, you can call me Simon when we’re in private.” His eyes bored into my soul and a half smile tugged at his sensual mouth, making my legs weaken. “When you answer me from now on, I want you to call me by my first name. Otherwise, show me the respect I deserve, Ms. Minnelli.”

  I swallowed the lump that was lodged in my throat. Sweat started to form on my forehead. His voice had dropped an octave to a sexy baritone that seemed to echo through my pelvis. I didn't know if it was him or me, but his commands were beginning to sound more like dirty bedroom talk than orders from my boss. “Yes, Simon,” I said, although it felt odd on my tongue. But, it also felt right in a way I couldn’t have explained to myself or anyone else. I reached for the tests again. I dug the tips my fingers deep down in his lap. As soon as I had the tests in my grasp, Simon grabbed me by the wrists with both hands.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are, Ms. Minnelli?” He eased my wrists apart until I dropped the tests on the floor. Then, he brought me close to him, so there I stood between his legs. Simon spun me around and sat me down upon his lap. He was behind me now. I felt the eagerness of his bulge pressing up against my ass, and my breaths came in pants as I fought the urge to squirm against his hardness. The tension in the air was thick enough to slice.

  “Do you feel that?” he whispered in my ear. The warmth of his breath softly tickled the side of my neck. He adjusted me on his lap, and I moistened in my panties. It hadn't been just me. He could feel it, too. There was fire between us.

  “Professor, I don’t think this is appropri—”

  “It’s a yes or no question, and what did I ask you to call me?”

  “Simon. Yes, Simon, I feel it.” I couldn’t resist sliding myself along his thigh. “I feel it.” A pulse of pleasure moistened me some more. “I feel you.”

  Simon reached around me from behind and touched his finger to my lips. He slipped it in, slowly penetrating my mouth. He snaked his hand between the cleft of my knees and, at the same time, his lips caressed the back of my neck. I tried to convince myself that what I was feeling wasn’t pleasure, but my head lolled back on his shoulder, betraying me. My stupid body was working against me. I really shouldn’t have been so hot for that asshole.

  “I only want to hear the answers to my questions,” he said. “I don’t need anything more than simplicity.”

  Simon advanced his hand up toward the apex of my inner thighs and closer to my center than I could take. It pulsed and ached as he got nearer to my folds. Without further thought, I pushed my pelvis forward. A moan escaped my mouth.

  He said, “I'm trying not to want you, but ever since I first laid eyes on you, I've wanted to—” Simon slipped his hand down my pants and past my panties. The edge of his fingers parted my folds and brushed lightly against my bud. A wave of electricity traveled through my body and tickled the pleasure centers in my brain.

  Before I knew it, the classroom door opened and someone seeking the professor peeped around the door. I hopped off Simon’s lap and briskly walked across the room as fast as I could while still remaining breathless and dizzy. I straightened my clothes and tried to get my wits about me. I didn’t know how long I could’ve gone with what we were doing without begging him to take me right there on the table.

  I’d never had those feelings before: the burning desire and lust and the urgency for consummation. I had never been that kind of girl. It was an overwhelming sensation. My flesh fevered so much I felt the heat would never come down. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I scooped up my stuff off my desk, hiked up the steps with my eyes on the door and left without taking another look back.

  I quickened my pace until I ran down the hall, my heart beating in triples. The first corner that I came to, I stopped and dropped my bag. My breathing was heavy and labored. Everything was spinning in circles. I was in a crowded hallway leaning up against a wall, feeling lost with no one to talk to about what had happened. I slid down on my butt, put my head in my hands and was confused as to why I started to smile.

  Lesson # 4

  An apple a day keeps you at play

  “I’m sure you have better, far more delicious things to offer than an apple.” -Simon Foster

  I had to get out of that class. I had to get away if it was the last thing I did because Simon had me losing my mind. My breath was short and shallow. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand as I tried to slow my breathing by counting and slowly releasing. I managed to get my butt up off the floor in the hall, walked to a rest area and planted it on the grass.

  It was blazing hot outside. The sun hung closely in the sky like a round, orange furnace with the door left open. I had to retreat under a black oak tree, the oldest and most comforting shade tree on the campus, one of my favorite places to study when I can manage to catch a spot. I leaned against the tree trunk, opened my bag and took out my books, stacking them each across my lap. I’d never failed to attend any one of my classes before but today, decidedly so, I was skipping Professor Foster’s.

  Not only was I his assistant in the mornings, I was his student in the mid-afternoons. It was too much. Giving us some space, I thought, was the smartest decision. I couldn't allow myself to fall victim to my desire for a man I couldn't stand but could hardly deny. My mind replayed the events of the morning. It had all happened so quickly. No one had ever been that interested in me, not to the point where he was willing to risk losing his job! No one could moisten my panties like Simon did. I adjusted my hips at the thought of it. My sweetness released from in between my folds, reminding me of my response to his touch.

  Before I knew it, I'd been sitting under the tree for nearly an hour. I studied some. I daydreamt a lot. I tried to ignore my saturated womanhood by crossing my legs and clenching tight, but it didn't seem to work. My arousal level refused to diminish as my thoughts kept turning back to him. I guess it's true what they say: that your largest sex organ has nothing to do with the body, as it’s all in your mind. I stood up from my spot and brushed myself off. I couldn't focus the way I needed to, and my skin was starting to fry even under the shade of the tree.

  As I was getting ready to leave, I caught a figure out the corner of my eye. I knew it had to be him. Simon Foster. I knew by the length and the gait of his stride; the way he held himself was all confidence. I wasn’t sure what I should do. Should I stay where I was and sit back down, maybe act like I hadn't seen him coming? Should I grab my bag and run in the opposite direction as he walked closer to me from the right? Or should I turn around and face him eye to eye, stand my ground like a woman and attempt to calm my nerves? I looked again inconspicuously. Simon was about fifteen feet away and closing in fast.

  I grabbed my bag out of instinct. I averted my eyes from his general direction so I could walk away and claim that I hadn’t seen him coming. Feign ignorance later on if he asked me about it and give him an “I don’t know what you’re talking about” kind of look.

  “Ms. Minnelli?” Simon shouted. I should've known that wouldn’t fly. I turned around and gave him the fakest smile that I could muster.

  “Hi!” I said, through a mouth of clenched teeth, when really what I was truly thinking was, Damn it!

  Simon had unbuttoned his blue shirt to the middle of his chest in the heat, and sweat was rolling down his neck onto his t-shirt. Carnal thoughts of how he’d look if he stripped crossed my mind. A slow grin stretched across my face before I could gather control. Simon took a seat in the grass on the opposite side of the tree. I assumed it was to not appear too obvious he and I were talking to each other. I let out a breath, and he did the same. It was too late to escape and make a break for the hills, so I decided I should roll with the punches.

  “What do you want?” I said in my most stern and serious voice, which came out more like a squeak, due in part to my nerves.

  He said nothing. At first. There was silence between us for several minutes, and with every minute that passed, I grew more irritated. “So are you going to say anything or are you just sitting there to bother me?”

  “Where were you?” he blurted.

  “What do you mean, where was I?”

  “You ditched my class, Ms. Minnelli. I have a right to know where you were.”

  “You’re looking at it, professor.” I leaned my head back against the tree trunk. “Best place to study on campus.”

  “So you skipped my class just to lean against a tree?”

  “I did. Getting back to nature and all, you know? You can lose sight of it being cooped up in classrooms all day.”

  He didn’t answer, and I didn’t indulge.

  I heard the rustling of a paper bag and what sounded like Simon unfolding it, opening and slipping his hand in to retrieve something from it. It sparked my curiosity. I wanted to look around to the other side of the tree and see what Simon had going on. “Whatcha got over there?”

  “My lunch,” he responded. “I pack it every day. Usually, it’s a sandwich or two and a small piece of fruit, but every once in a while I get fancy and pack spaghetti or rotisserie chicken. I have very selective tastes, if you can’t tell.”

  “Well, what that really sounds like to me is you can’t cook.”

  “I can.” He paused. “Okay, admittedly I’m not very good at it, but I make do. How about you? Can you cook?”

  “You’re asking me that with a name like Minnelli? For a guy who’s supposed to be super smart, professor, your deductive reasoning skills sorta suck!”

  “Well, I didn’t want to assume anything. It seems like young ladies these days are much too independent or self-centered to bother themselves with learning how to cook. Happy to hear you’re somewhat different than the others.”

  “Somewhat?”

  “Yeah, jury’s still out on that one.”

  “Well, when this jury of yours comes back from deliberation, and they tell you I’m definitely different than ‘the others,’ you make sure you take that statement back. Okay?”

  “I most certainly will, Ms. Minnelli.”

  “Good. So what’s for lunch today?”

  “I have a ham and Swiss sandwich, some almonds and an apple. Actually”—he rustled the bag with his hand—“looks like I’ve packed two apples. Would you like one?” He reached around the tree.

  I saw his hand grasped around a plump red apple that looked about as perfect as they come. My stomach jumped at it and squeezed tight, with a hunger pang letting me know it was what it needed. “Aren’t I supposed to offer those to you? You know, bring an apple to class, kiss up to the teacher, get better grades, etcetera.”

  Simon laughed. “No offense, Ms. Minnelli, but I’m sure you have better, far more delicious things to offer than an apple. I’ve noticed.”

  “Ahem.” A wide smile stretched across my face. My arm prickled, heavy with goose bumps. I was flattered, but we both knew there were limits to what we should or shouldn't say. “Okay, Professor Foster. If you say so.”

  “Are you going to let my hand fall off? Even an apple gets heavy if you hold it long enough.”

  “Oh, I forgot.” I reached around for the apple. It rolled from Simon’s fingers into the palm of my hand. Being more grateful than I’d like, I said, “Thank you.” I brought the shiny red apple to my mouth and let my lips brush across it before I took an enormous bite. My teeth sank in and my eyes rolled back. I couldn’t help letting out an “Mmmm.” The juice rolled down my face in fat little drops, over my lips and down the sides of my chin.

  Simon had a smile in his voice. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

  I nodded until I realized he couldn’t see my gesture. My mouth was still full, so “Mmm-hmm” was all I could manage.

  “Fuji apples are delicious… like your lips are, I bet.”

  Intense desire leapt within me, exactly what I was hoping to avoid. I had to get away and quickly before I said something I’d regret. “Okay, I think I better go.” I brushed myself off once again, sprang to my feet and tried to leave.

  “No, wait, don’t go.” Simon stood as well. He made his way around the width of the tree and placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

  “I think it’s best I leave, don’t you? Besides, it’s almost time for my next class. I’m sure you don’t want make me be late.”

  “Lynn, we both know your leaving has nothing to do with you being late for your next class.”

  “It’s good to hear you call me by my first name, professor. I was beginning to think you didn’t know what it was. Sounds good, coming out of your mouth like that. You should use it more often.”

  Was I flirting?

  “Duly noted, Lynn.” He smiled. “Speaking of family, can I ask where you’re from?” A stall tactic that didn’t escape me one bit. “I don’t detect an accent or anything, so I assume you’re from around here. Born and raised in the Bay Area?”

  I decided to play along. “No, not exactly. I’m from Fresno. It’s the sixth-largest city in California and the largest complete bore I’ve ever known. Do you know where that is?”

  “I’ve come across it. Hot as hell out there… dry and nasty heat. Makes today seem like a moist spring morning.”

  “Yup, that’s Fresno for you. Which means you’re from around here, too? You have to be to know about Fresno. So spill the beans, Mr. Mystery Man. I mean, since we’re getting personal and all. It would make me feel better if I knew more about the person who had his hand down my pants.”

  Simon winced and studied my face and then continued to talk once he realized I was fine. “I grew up half my life in Menlo Ather—Park. It’s the next city over from Palo Alto. I was actually born in New York and lived there before my family moved out this way when I was eleven. My parents are bicoastal still, but I tend to try and stay in California when I can. I like it. It’s a little more down to earth here. More trees, grass and things like that, not too many people or high-rise buildings. I’m not the biggest fan of large cities.”

  “Yeah, neither am I. Give me a tree any day over concrete, steel and a skyscraper. So, if I may ask, do you normally eat your lunch on the grass or did you seek me out?”

  “Maybe I was looking for you.”

  “Reason being?”

  Simon took his time to answer, letting out an exasperated breath. “Maybe I wanted to apologize about earlier today… I’m an aggressive person by nature and”—he paused—“and when I see something or someone I like, I tend to go for it. Sometimes, consequences be damned. It’s a personality flaw of mine. What can I say?” He looked around and took his hand off my shoulder when he realized that people could see us.

  “Feeling watched?” I said, mustering up the courage to look him in the eyes. It only lasted briefly, but it was an effort. I had to look away before his mesmerizing gaze kept me captive. “Does it make you feel cornered or put on the spot when people can see you? I guess everyone is powerless to something.”

  “No… never powerless. Just cautious, I guess.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, I know the feeling. Anyway, professor, I better get going. Off to my next class, where people keep their hands to themselves.” I winked and took another bite of my apple. I glanced backwards over my shoulder. “This apple’s good. Thanks again.” As I walked away, I hoped he wasn’t staring at my ass…then, again…maybe I hoped he was.

  Lesson # 5

  True release is an unstoppable force

  “My passage kept pulsing. I didn’t want it to stop.” -Lynora Minnelli