In Session

As I splashed water on my face, there was a knock at the door. I yelled back the cursory, “Excuse me, there’s someone in here.”

Despite my words, the doorknob jiggled as if someone was about to walk in. I gawked at the turning knob, surprised that someone would attempt to get in when I was clearly using it. Then I remembered that the door didn’t lock and scrambled to shut the door, but it was too late.

The door was opening.

“Excuse me!” I started to say, until I saw who was walking in on me. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see if you needed any help,” Foster said, closing the door and leaning casually against it.

“What the hell is wrong with you? This is the ladies’ bathroom,” I paused, gesturing. “That I am in!”

Foster shrugged. “It wasn’t locked so I figured you couldn’t be doing anything too revealing.” He winked at me, actually winked. Who the hell did this guy think he was? And why the hell was I still attracted to him? I picked up the closest thing to me—a spare roll of toilet paper—and threw it at his head. He ducked and the roll bounced on the ground.

I huffed. “What is your problem?”

Foster advanced on me quicker than I could blink.

“You.”

Foster grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me to him, crushing his lips against mine.

“What about your date?” I asked, biting his lip hard.

“That wasn’t a date,” Foster growled against my lips. “That was a coworker.” Foster spun me around, pressing me against the sink so that the cool porcelain was flush against my stomach.

“I don’t have much time,” Foster said.

“So hurry then,” I replied. I realized that my reply meant I was effectively sealing my fate, but I’d already sealed it much earlier. I’d sealed it when I’d internally sagged with relief when he’d said his date wasn’t a date. I’d sealed it when I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off him my entire dinner. I’d sealed it the minute he’d kissed me and I’d realized I needed it more than I needed air.

I said I’d avoided Foster like the plague that week, but maybe I’d already caught him. I was infected.

Foster ripped down my leggings and palmed me between my legs. We groaned at the same time.

“You’re so wet,” Foster groaned. I leaned in to his palm, relishing the feeling of his rough skin against my most sensitive of places.

“Please,” I begged.

Foster grabbed my hair and pulled me back against his chest. “I’m sorry we have to be quick,” Foster whispered against the skin of my neck.

“Just do it!”

I heard the sound of the condom wrapper ripping and then he plunged into me. Foster and I were one, and there was no going back.

4

Teacher's Pet

At first, sitting through Foster’s class had been torture because of the embarrassment. Now it was torture because of our secret. I didn’t want to sit up front, because maybe that was too obvious. Then again, I didn’t want to sit in the back because maybe that was too obvious. I chose a seat right in the middle.

In the end, my seating choice didn’t matter. I was drenched the minute he came in. It didn’t matter that he was talking about the driest science I’d ever encountered, he may as well have been whispering seduction directly in to my ear. I swore he looked at me way longer than he should have.

He smiled at me too, a secret smile meant just for me. I know it. Every time he mentioned hybridization he’d look back and smile at me. Come on. Hybridization is neither funny nor sexy.

I watched the clock almost as much as I watched Foster. Class needed to end so I could run up and kiss the gorgeous, smart man sending me secret smiles and flirty glances. I waited and waited for class to end. Then I waited some more, because people just had to talk to Foster. I mean, really, pay attention so you don’t have to ask questions.

Well, I probably should have started paying attention, considering that since I’d started dating Foster my knowledge of organic chemistry had drastically declined. We all make sacrifices for love, right? When the last student left, I packed my bags and walked toward Foster.

* * *