Hearts On Campus

But there’s something in his clear, brown eyes that makes me want to tell him. To tell him everything.

“Your raw fish will get cold,” I warn him, avoiding the answer he’s waiting for.

“It’s made cold,” he reminds me and with a questioning brow, he waits without taking his eyes off mine.

“What are you thinking?” he repeats, lower and quieter, making me shiver a breath before I can answer.

“That I never want this to end,” I finally murmur quietly, almost inaudibly.

It sounds far away, like an echo.

Like someone else is somehow telling him for me.

“That I wish a girl like me could… Anyway, it’s stupid,” I sniff, forcing myself to sit up straight. “I was just thinking how much fun this is and how your computer should be ready after we eat.”

“No,” he says in a firm tone, placing his chopsticks down in front of him and swallowing hard.

“Not the last part. Tell me the first part again, so I can hear it,” he demands gently. His eyes softening around the edges, but only getting more intense as I feel myself dissolving into them.

His hand moves closer to mine across the table and I feel my heart start to race, the warmth between my legs is back and I just know he’s getting all hard again under the table.

Making me want to see that bulge again.

Making me want to touch it, make him groan as I pull it out of his pants.

I watch his eyes dilate, making the dark hazel look almost completely black.

“Tell me again,” he croons, his fingers reaching for mine as I hear myself whimper helplessly, pressing my whole pussy down into the seat, willing it to be him under me.

“We can’t,” I hear myself whispering like someone will hear. Like the whole world can suddenly read my mind and what I want to happen. What I want him to do to me right now.

“Can’t what?” he asks, goading me, pressing me harder to tell him.

He wants you to say it, Katelyn. Just freaking tell him or you’ll never know if he really wants you.

“But you’re a teacher. I’m a student,” I whisper hoarsely, not even believing what I’m saying.

Ruining everything.

He smiles like the devil, cocking a brow. And I know now he’s interested, I’m not imagining anything.

Anyone would know that look. Even me.

“I’m not your teacher though, not even close to the science faculty,” he remarks, drawing a huge line in the sand I know he’s waiting for me to cross with him.

“But?” I protest feebly, feeling all my strength go, glad I’m sitting down because I feel suddenly faint.

“This college has no hard and fast rule about student-teacher relations,” he continues, making my breath come fasters like I’m inhaling the drug that’s his voice, the one I want to hear him use to tell me he wants to take me.

“I’m not your principal teacher or even close. I could do anything I wanted, providing it’s… consensual,” he finally says, and I feel it. Something inside me is about to give way.

I make a strange moaning, gasping sound and feel my eyes plead directly into his.

I can only whimper his name before he gets up, comes over to my side, and takes a knee, pulling my hands in his.

“Tell me, Katelyn. Say it. Tell me you want this,” he gasps, moving his knee aside so I can see it again, see that magnificent cock straining through his sweat pants.

“I want you, Katelyn,” he growls softly, leaning so close I can feel his hardness pressing against my leg. His breath warm on my lips as our eyes lock again.

“I want you to want this,” he says, taking my hand as I feel my head nodding and moaning softly as I feel my fingers try to begin to even take ahold of all of his hardness.

I wheeze his name once more and tell myself to kiss him, order myself to let him kiss me.

But there’s something else. Something in me that just won’t let go entirely.

Everything I want, everything I need is right here in front of me, raring to go.

So why can’t I?

My heart’s like thunder in my ears, and it feels like I’ve shaken a rib loose but Wes eventually creases a smile and curls his huge hand over my fingers, putting them back over to my side and he eases himself back into his seat.

“It’s alright,” I say softly.

“I thought… I didn’t mean to be so direct,” he says, looking down at his food. “I hope I didn’t frighten you, Katelyn. I’m sorry. I thought we…?” but he breaks off.

He figures he’s said and done enough damage for one evening.

I can’t speak. I’ve just watched the most amazing thing swoop down and try to lift me up and all I could do was push it away.

I try to tell him, want to tell him something, but I only manage a dry croak before he excuses himself to get us both some water.