Smiling, I replied, “I can’t help it, Maria. Be honest with me. Do you think I’m doing this because it’s daring and forbidden, and not because I really like him?”
Maria shrugged. “I don’t think so, but only you can really answer that. Why? Are you already bored with the cloak and dagger stuff?”
“No. I mean, I guess it adds a certain something to the relationship, but is it really a relationship? If we’re having sex and nothing else, is the risk worth it?” I asked out loud, trying to work through what had been weighing heavily on my mind.
Maria looked at me, pity on her face. “Tessa, I can’t answer that for you, but I don’t think this is a quick fling. You aren’t like that, and I don’t get the feeling he is either. Maybe you need to talk to him about this.”
I groaned. “The whole ‘where is this going’ conversation seems a little premature. He is making me crazy. I feel like I am completely addicted to him; worse than any street drug.”
She laughed. “Damn girl, that good, huh?”
“Do you think it’s because he’s older? Because he has more practice. Maybe that’s what it is. Do I have daddy issues?” I asked in horror.
Maria threw her head back and laughed. “He isn’t that old, and no, I don’t think so.”
“He’s been married already!” I shrieked, quickly working myself into a frenzy. “He’s been married, had a kid, he even owns a home. He’s so—adult.”
Another laugh followed by the shaking of her head. “I really don’t think that is a bad thing. If the age thing is bothering you, I think you need to tell him. You’re the one who needs to put the brakes on and keep it in the fling zone, but don’t lead him on. Jake would kill me if you hurt his big brother and then I’ll have to kill you for ruining what I have with Jake.”
I nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Okay, I need to get my butt to class. Thanks for chatting,” I said, sliding on my ballet flats before slamming down the last of my coffee.
I was probably getting worked up over nothing. He didn’t propose marriage. We had sex a few times. That’s it. I needed to keep my hysteria in check. I took one last look in my rearview mirror, demanding I chill out. Going in there all hot and bothered or freaking out over the R-word wasn’t going to do anybody any good.
Breezing into the room, I smiled at him. He was chatting with a few students in the center of the room. He was acting totally normal. Good. We’re good. Nothing to freak out about.
Moments before class was to start, he walked to my desk. “You okay?”
“Me, yeah, why? Don’t I seem okay?” I asked, in a voice that was a little higher than normal.
He gave me that look. The look that said he knew better.
I took a deep breath. “I’m fine, promise.”
“Okay,” he said, before walking away and turning his attention to his students.
Of course, I had to watch him leave. I caught myself staring at his ass, which brought up visions of my clenching it as he drove into my body over and over. My eyes moved up his back, and I imagined all of those muscles straining as he came into me, my nails digging in and leaving sexy little red marks across his back like some tigress.
I blinked, snapping myself out of my little daydream and focused on the book I had opened. I don’t know why the book was open or what I was supposed to be doing with it, but I wanted to look busy or otherwise occupied.
At some point, I heard his voice drop to that low timbre, and a shiver raced up and down my spine. I looked up, and he was pacing between the rows. That voice was the one he used when he was excited about something. I watched like a lion observes prey. Every move he made, reminded me of him being on top of me, and my hands caressing that bare skin.
Holy shit, snap out of it, woman! I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I have become a sex-crazed lunatic. I can’t look at him without thinking about riding him. My skin is tingling simply by being in the same vicinity. I want his mouth on my body. I want him on me and in me. I want it so bad I can actually feel it, and it has me worked up so much I think I could climax right there in my seat.
I squirmed in my chair, not sure I wanted to have an orgasm right here in class, but desperate to take the edge off. There was a fine sheen of sweat covering my face as my arousal continued to keep me in its grip. I looked up, and he was looking at me with those eyes that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. I was only a little embarrassed.
He gave a slight shake of his head, cleared his throat, and resumed his lecture. I cannot wait for class to be over. I’m headed straight for the bathroom to complete the job myself. I can’t possibly walk around all day tingling and wet.
“EEEOOOEEEOOO, EEEOOOEEEOOO!”
The wail of the emergency siren cut right through that haze of desire I had created.
My eyes instantly went to him. He stopped walking and talking. The entire room fell silent as we waited for the announcement that would follow the shrieking siren. Is it a test?
As we waited for the horrible sound to go through its many tones, my desire dried up. As it turns out, the wail of a siren is the perfect anti-arousal. I’d have to keep that in mind for future reference.
A mechanical, tinny voice cut through the silence. “Class is immediately dismissed. Campus is now closed. Please go home and prepare for Hurricane Karen. The storm has shifted course and is expected to make landfall late tonight. This is not a test. Campus is closed. You will be alerted via our emergency system when classes will resume. Stay safe.”
I watched him take in the news. The students didn’t hesitate and quickly collected their things. While most of us had ridden out countless tropical storms and even a few minor hurricanes, you never knew when it was going to be the big one. I could hear the many plans for parties being made by the students. This was a free day, and they were going to live it up—screw the impending hurricane.