Teacher's Pet Complete Series (7 page)

“Payback.”

“What?” I spat the word incredulously, angrily. What could he possibly be exacting a toll from me for? I might occasionally nod off in a class or two, and I might even make an error when grading a paper, but I deserved better than to be the butt of his joke. “Why don't you like me?” I mumbled, low enough that I thought he couldn't hear.

Simon stood up and leaned across his desk to look me directly in the eyes. “I do like you. As I said, payback. How do you think you make me feel? Hmm? I shouldn't like you. I shouldn't want you. You dress funny. You're immature. You're the worst TA I have ever had the displeasure of having foisting off on me, and yet I like you. I want you.”

He said the last three words like it was the hardest thing to get them out. I studied his lips as he confessed, wanting to kiss him. I wanted to know how I made him feel, and he really wasn't saying much. He said he liked me, but it could be as Bobbi warned. He was an older man, and I was a college girl. He could be saying what he thought I wanted to hear.

I glanced at my watch and realized I didn't have to stay a minute longer. At least for the day, my work for him was done.

It was my turn to close the bookstore. I always opted to take the closing shift because I liked to sort the books for cash-out and took pleasure in having the store to myself. Bobbi always left early so she could make it home at night. She lived in an affluent neighborhood about twenty miles away, in a luxury condo complex called The Crestview. She had to take the bus because her father refused to buy her a car. Bobbi was no good with cars. She loved to speed like kids loved candy, and she was reckless to a fault. I’d seen her drive before, so I understood his point.

Being in the store by myself forced me to be in the company of my own thoughts, something I hadn’t been allowing for good reason. The thoughts tasted sour on my tongue. I wondered,
What if Bobbi is right?
Regardless of what Jay said, and despite how I felt, it was possible Professor Foster was preying on my inexperience.

What if he’d done this before—had “affection” for one of his students—and what university had he taught at before he came to ours? Did anybody know? It was Berkeley, right? Had anybody heard why he left? I thought of calling Professor Temple to find out what she knew, but I didn’t want to disturb her with my trivial issues and unfounded paranoia while she was out on maternity leave. Besides, I could just ask him myself if I wanted to know, but being next to Simon never seemed to go the way that I thought it might. I shook my head with frustration, trying to block his smarmy face as I recalled his earlier treatment of me.

He had been the paragon of professionalism and virtue in class and during my work hours alone with him in his office over the past few days. Why had he chosen today to be the consummate douchebag?

As if on cue, I heard a sound coming from outside and turned around. There was Simon, rapping on the glass door at the front of the store. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest once I saw him with his brown leather jacket unzipped and wide open, with a wife-beater underneath fitting like a second layer of skin. His face was pressed against the glass: flat, distorted and funny looking. Yet, I still thought he was gorgeous, despite my best efforts to convince myself that he wasn’t. I schooled my expressions as I walked over and unlocked the door. I couldn’t keep wearing my emotions on my sleeve. I had to try and play it cool.

“Hello,” he said, sticking his head in the doorway. Through the window of the front of the book store, I could see a shiny black and chrome Harley-Davidson parked outside. Of course he rode a motorcycle. As if he wasn’t already way sexier than any human being should be.

“Hello, Mr. Foster. So, are you stalking me now? I didn’t know that was part of the curriculum.”

He smiled at that.

Ugh, his dimples weakened my knees.

“No, I’m not stalking you, but would you blame me if I was?”

I shied away, as my face was turning red. I wondered if I'd ever get used to his changing moods. It was pathetic of me to be so affected. Maybe Bobbi had been right about me practically being a virgin. I was acting like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Say you see what I see when you look in the mirror. And please, as I said before, when we’re alone, call me Simon.” I couldn't believe I'd heard him right. Just that morning he had complained about my wardrobe, now he was complimenting me?

“Okay, Simon, tell me what is it that you see.”

He walked toward me until we were face to face, almost nose to nose. I could smell the fresh scent of mint on his breath. He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. “I see you got rid of that ridiculous yellow suit, although I was pleased to see you took my little motivational speech about wardrobe to heart. I see a beautiful young woman who has yet to realize her potential. I think I'd rather you in shapeless cardigans.”

I turned in to his caress, but I felt like I should protest. At the very least, I should be offended by him slickly calling his insults of days prior a motivational speech. I sighed softly in pleasure as the pad of his thumb traced along my jaw, knowing resistance would be in vain since I would eventually give in. I wanted to give him the illusion of being strong or giving chase. He didn't know, but I had looked in the mirror, and the girl I saw needed to learn how to take control sometimes. “Please don’t… don’t touch me like that.”

“Why not? You seem to be enjoying it.”

I pulled away from him, breaking myself out of the trance he always seemed to put me in. I stepped past Simon to exit the bookstore, with him following at my heels. I closed and locked the store behind me. Then, I started walking along the sidewalk toward the dorm.

“Because it’s wrong and confusing. You’re my professor, Simon, and you’re older than me. I could be one of many girls you’ve done this to, and the thought of that curdles my stomach.” I frowned, knowing full well what I wanted him to say. He was supposed to deny, deny, deny. Instead, he ran up to walk alongside me with a contemplative look on his face as he listened to me rant. “What is it that you want from me? And, why are you such a dick to me one moment and sweet as pie the next? Excuse my language, but I need to know your intentions.” I surprised even myself with my words. I had only planned on playing a bit coy, but instead I had turned it into a confrontation. All I could do next was let the chips fall where they may.

He laughed. “My intentions? Seriously? That sounds like something your parents would ask.”

“Well, they aren’t here to ask for themselves, so maybe I should ask for them. Maybe I’m asking for me.” I stood firm and crossed my arms, but it left me feeling more childish than strong.

“Okay. Well, it would be good for them to ask those questions. I can respect that. So let me try and tackle them one by one. As far as me coming to see you tonight, I will have to say it’s obviously not a coincidence. I remembered you saying something about a night job—all it took was to ask a few students some questions, and here I am.”

“So you
are
stalking me.”

“I’m not stalking you… much.” He winked. I couldn’t suppress a small smile. Damn, he really had me under his thumb, didn’t he?

I tried to stand my ground for a little longer and continued the accusatory track. I got the feeling it wasn’t working. “Well, you strategically sought out my whereabouts and purposely put yourself on a path to run into me. I would say that is the very definition of stalking. What would you call it?”

“Ah, touché, Ms. Minnelli.”

He clapped.

I curtsied. Somehow, it had turned into a game of words instead of anything productive.

And, that was when it happened. Before I could complete another thought or take another breath, Simon closed the space between us. He cradled the tip of my chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilted his head to kiss me. The spark between us stoked a fire. Everything around me vanished: the bright stars swimming in the night’s sky, the soft glow of the full moon and the worries I had of me falling for him. I couldn’t care less about any of it in that moment.

Simon snaked his arm around my waist. Suddenly, there was nothing on this earth but the two of us. His muscular chest pressed tightly against my aching breasts, and my fingers gliding along the heated flesh of his arms. His muscles rippled beneath my touch like quaking granite, hard enough to crush, belying the gentleness of his embrace. I could tell he held himself in check for me because his eyes asked questions of my willingness, and mine responded back with absolute assent. I wanted…wanted everything, all of him.

Our bodies fit perfectly together like they were made to be paired, our faces close enough to share breaths. His captivating blue eyes had me frozen in place and at his mercy. I was a prisoner of his affections once again, but I didn't feel powerless this time. I threw all caution to the wind. Tilting up my face, I presented my mouth to be kissed as I had fantasized, and I closed my eyes waiting for the lightning to strike.

His lips caressed mine with all the spark and electricity I expected. Hungrily, I tasted him, moaning into his mouth with unbridled lust. I could feel the heat of his skin beneath my palms, while I savored the sweet, minty freshness of his tongue. I sucked on it. I had to. I was greedy for more of what he could give me.

His tongue thrust deeper in my mouth. I didn’t fight. I accepted everything he had, and I gave back accordingly. I wanted him to know that I was willing… willing to do whatever he asked at that moment. Nothing was out of the question.

Then, Simon suddenly pushed me away, abruptly separating the bond between us. Without thinking, I walked toward him like a lost puppy dog as he backed away slowly toward the bushes by the sidewalk. I was starving for him. I didn’t want the pleasure to end. But, my world came rushing back painfully. In a snap the spell was broken.

I looked around to see who might’ve been watching us, feeling tense with new awareness. Simon could lose his job over such a display. It didn’t matter that I was in my twenties and an adult. A professor wrapped up in a scandal with a student was like the coffee stain I’d put on his shirt that first day. It would never go away, no matter where he went or what he did to get it clean. That stain would be there on his career forever. I didn’t want to be responsible for that.

Simon placed his hands on both sides of my face and turned my head carefully in his direction.

“No one is watching.” The light of the moon reflected in his eyes. They softened for me, but they still held power. Like a god among men—otherworldly. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. “I might be a little reckless at times, and I admit danger does turn me on, but I happen to love what I do, and I wouldn’t want to compromise it for anything or anyone. I worked too hard to get here. One day, you’re going have to trust me. I only have the best intentions.” He kissed me again, light and sweet. “Please believe me.” His last words sounded like a plea, the only shred of vulnerability I had ever seen him have.

Simon turned and walked away. As he did, I realized that I might have insulted him, insinuating that his feelings for me weren’t genuine and that he’d seduced other girls in his past. But, who was to say my concerns weren’t valid? The man hardly knew me, yet his intentions were genuine? Why should I believe him? And, why did I feel so incredibly helpless whenever he was around, like my heart was attached to him by a tether? My mind went to a million different places in just a manner of seconds, and I didn’t know which way was correct.

He could’ve pulled me whichever way he wanted to, and I would have followed him gladly. Was that how desperation felt? Was describing it as desperation cheapening my experience? I didn’t know what this was. But, what I did know was watching him walk away made my heart drop to my stomach. I couldn’t let him go… I wouldn’t.

Simon stopped after I called his name. To him, it probably sounded like a mix between a scream and a plea. He didn’t turn around completely, but he held his hand out behind him and let it linger there for me to grasp. I grabbed it, tugged at his arm and stopped him in his tracks.

“Come with me,” I demanded. “Now!”

Simon didn’t ask me where we were going. He didn’t seem worried about his bike. He didn’t question my intentions or stop me from leading him forward. He just followed. For once, I was in charge of the situation, and I was going to make completely sure it paid off for the both of us. I pushed open the doors to the dormitory hall, but once I did, I released his hand. (I wasn’t stupid, and neither was he.) I wasn’t comfortable with showing that amount of affection for him—not in public, not now.

Simon nodded with understanding and continued to follow. I was happy with that. I didn’t want the moment ruined. I stayed two steps ahead of him, looking back every ten seconds or so to make sure he was still behind me. He seemed eager, reading me and my intentions like a book as that sly, mischievous smile formed slowly across his face. I smiled back. My heart was pounding rapidly, somewhat erratically, and hard against my ribs. I had never taken control of anything in my life other than my schooling, but that time, that night, I was going to get what I wanted. Exactly how I wanted it.

I opened the door to my room. I knew Sonja wouldn’t be there because she never was. The room was dark and empty. I stepped inside and turned to see Simon in the doorway with the light from the hallway behind him. Again, he looked otherworldly, like a gorgeous, dark angel commanding the shadows to move in ways that would only enhanced his features.

He slipped his arms out of his jacket. It dropped to his feet in a dark leather heap, wrapped around his boots like an attention-hungry cat. I looked up from the floor, past his powerful legs, and paused when I saw the bulge swelling in his jeans.

I eagerly stuck my hand in the space between his belt and his rock-hard stomach, gripped tight and led him quickly to my bed. I pulled him on top of me, wedging him between my thighs. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest if it kept beating the way it was. It pounded against my ribs like a drum to a song of impassioned desire and sexual rapture. I was certain he’d be able to hear it. It didn’t matter, though. The way I had taken things from zero to sixty meant there was no way to hide how I felt anymore. If his intentions weren’t good, then I’d pay for it later.