Broken Wings (Broken Wings 1)

“She’s gone,” he said, sitting on the cot, “and when she leaves, she locks the door and puts a sign up telling the students she’s at lunch and to go to the office for emergencies.”

“I thought it would be harder to do something like this here,” I said. “You do it a lot?”

“Once in a while. When I have some good reason,” he added with a smile.

“What’s your good reason now?” I asked him.

“You,” he said, and leaned forward slowly to kiss me. I let him and then leaned back on my pillow.

“How’d you know I’d let you do that?” I asked.

“I was hoping you would.”

“You going to try to take advantage of me?” I asked him.

“No,” he said, and smiled. “I’m hoping you’ll take advantage of me.”

We both laughed.

“I want you to know right now,” he continued, dropping his smile, “that I’m not easy.”

“Listen to you!” I said with some outrage. He shrugged.

“You’re a very pretty girl, Phoebe. I don’t know how long I can hold out.”

“What?”

He leaned down and kissed me again, this time slipping his hands under my sweater and blouse. I held his arms for a moment and then he lifted his lips from mine, looked in my eyes, smiled again, and kissed me harder. It had been so long since I felt this good, I couldn’t help but let my resistance slip away, especially when his fingers reached my breasts and his thumbs reached my nipples. I couldn’t help moaning softly.

“I really like you,” he whispered. “You’re an exciting girl.” He lifted my sweater and I let him take it off, and then he unbuttoned my blouse and pressed his lips to my breasts, sliding them over to each nipple so slowly

and gently, I tingled in anticipation.

“Man, you really are nice,” he said. He surprised me by bringing his mouth down to my belly and then undoing my jeans to kiss me lower and lower.

Every few seconds I told myself, we’re doing this in school, right in the nurse’s office. It made it all seem more exciting—so exciting that my heart hammered at my chest and shortened my breath.

If I don’t stop him soon, I’m actually going to give up my treasure, I told myself. He had his hands inside my jeans, moving around to cup my buttocks and lift me so he could kiss me lower, his lips now caressing the insides of my thighs.

“I’ve got what we need,” he whispered. “Don’t worry.”

He backed away to prepare himself and in those seconds, I argued with myself, warning myself that this was my last chance to stop before it was too late. I knew what it was to reach a peak of excitement and then fall over like someone who had lost her footing on a cliff. I would be helpless, caught up in my own ravishing sexual hunger.

You’re not here two days, Phoebe Elder, I lectured myself. How can you do this with the first boy you’ve met? You’ll get a bad reputation so quickly it will be impossible to walk the halls. Stop him; stop him before it’s too late.

It’s all right, another side of me argued. He really likes you and you like him. When that happens, you don’t need much time. It’s magical. Go with it. Enjoy something in this miserable situation.

He stepped out of his pants and underwear and was between my legs. We were kissing harder now. I held on to his shoulders and waited, but before he could do anything, the door opened.

There was a moment of such deep silence, it was as if a nuclear bomb had gone off and it was just a split second before the explosion would sound. The silence made the situation seem more like a dream, like Ashley Porter and I were floating and would just fall to earth like two feathers.

Then we heard Mrs. Fassbinder’s scream, and Ashley leaped back, scurrying for his clothing. I pulled up my jeans and turned away from the door.

“Get out! Get out!” she shouted at Ashley.

“I’m going. I’m going. Take it easy,” he cried.

I got my blouse back on and buttoned it clumsily. Then I sat up and pulled my sweater over myself as Ashley rushed out the door. Mrs. Fassbinder stepped back with her hands still up and shaking.