Head of the Class

by Cyndi Weatherhead

  MICHAEL came through the door carrying a couple of food bags and a video game case.

  “It’s been a long day,” he said. “I was thinking more about maybe a movie or video games. I brought barbecue and sushi.”

  “From Bubba’s?”

  “Where else?”

  “Okay, okay.” She turned to go back into her bedroom. “Do you mind if I take a moment to change?”

  “You’re wearing sweats.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, so I bought this really cool outfit and planned to seduce you, but...”

  “So where’s the outfit?”

  “I’m wearing it.”

  “Honey, we need to have a long talk about your choice of seduction attire. I’m a jock and all, but a Nike swoosh just doesn’t do it for me.”

  “Under the warm up suit.”

  “Oh. So are you planning to show me?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s kind of wild,” Caja said fighting the urge to flee. Where would she go? It was her house.

  “Oh then you definitely have to show me.”

  “Promise you won’t laugh.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem,” he said with a devilish grin.

  CAJA slowly unzipped the jacket, revealing her small torso cinched to within an inch of her life in red leather. Her breasts, the luscious little cupcakes he adored were nearly unrecognizable pushed up into an invitation almost too delectable to resist. Michael thanked God that she’d lowered her head and couldn’t see the expression on his face. It took all he had to resist taking a bite.

  “Don’t I get to see the rest of it?” he asked and even to his own ears he sounded hoarse.

  Without raising her head she slowly shimmied the pants over her hips until they puddled at her feet. He forced himself to breathe slowly as he took in the sight of her hips encased in the same red leather that clothed her torso. Her legs were bare and made a delicious contrast with the brightly hued garment.

  “Okay, stop staring,” she said turning her back to him. “And help me undo this thing.”

  Michael gasped. The corset was a T-back and the round globes of her bottom were bare as a delectable peach. “My pleasure,” he said putting the food bag down on the hall table. It took him a moment to figure out the hooks and eyes. His hands lingered a bit longer than they should as he unfastened them, but he was pretty sure she didn’t notice. Almost of its own volition one hand reached out to cup a delectable cheek, but he restrained himself just in time. His cock went hard so quickly it was a physical pain and he felt a moment of lightheadedness as his blood rushed south. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He tried to recall football and basketball stats, anything to still the heat raging through his body urging him to tackle her to the floor and cover her body with his. It as hard to believe but it had only been a few days since he last had her and it was all he could do not to pant with desperation. There the goddamned thing was done. And not a moment too soon. As soon as he had finished unfastening the corset she scampered away, almost as though she was embarrassed. He shook his head and took the food into the kitchen. Before long she returned in just the warm up suit, and they took up places on the sofa.

  “YOU know I’ve never played a video game in my life, don’t you?” Caja said.

  “And you have a game console because?” he asked gesturing toward the unit on her media center.

  “Some of my clients like to workout with video games. A few have suggested that I create a customized game for them. I was exploring the concept.”

  “I should’ve known,” he said with a sigh. “ Well what do you want to play? Football? Tennis? A racing game?”

  Caja considered her options. The racing game seemed to require the least technical ability of the three thus lessening her risk of abject humiliation.

  Michael put the DVD in the machine then reclaimed his seat next to her on the sofa.

  The game seemed fairly straightforward -- a road race through the Kenyan countryside. The graphics were amazing and she was so caught up in the scenery that she almost dropped the controller when it vibrated in her hand the first time her car hit a bumpy patch in the road. Soon she was gritting her teeth in frustration. Controlling the car on the screen took every bit of patience she had and she found herself overcorrecting and continuously driving off the road. Michael’s trash talk didn’t help matters it just triggered her competitive edge. Once she realized that she needed to hold the controller like the steering wheel of an actual car the virtual vehicle responded much more handily. Even so, she was surprised and delighted to find she had won and jumped off the sofa to do a victory dance.

  “Act like you’ve been here before, Sprocket,” Michael said. Despite his irascible tone she could tell he was proud of her.

  “Aw c’mon,” she taunted in return. “Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser.”

  “So much mouth after just one win.”

  “Fine,” she said returning to the couch. “Best two out of three.”

  Before she knew it, it was a couple of hours later and they’d played through all the games twice and had returned to the racing game.

  “Fine. Fine. I give,” she said throwing up her hands and dropping the controller on the table. “I can’t play anymore.”

  “Just like a rookie. No stamina,” he sneered.

  “You got that right,” she said flopping back on the sofa. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “My life is an open book. What do you want to know?” he asked placing his own controller on the table and then relaxing against the overstuffed back.

  “Were you not the least bit tempted by the corset I had on earlier?” Caja lowered her gaze, angry with herself for asking the question. She sounded so...pathetic, but it had bugged her all night. She’d stood there in front of him with everything she had on display and he’d acted like the goddamned butler.

  “You tempt me in sweats. Of course that get-up was hot.”

  “But you didn’t do anything...”

  “I know it’s hard to believe, and you probably couldn’t tell from my previous behavior, but I do have some self-control. Besides, that’s not what I want.”

  Caja frowned. “But you said...”

  “Okay, that’s not all I want.”

  She was tempted to ask what he wanted, but he spoke first.

  “So what’s with you and the whole friends with benefits thing?”

  “Do I have to have a reason?”

  “Well you have to admit, it’s a bit unusual.”

  “For a woman, you mean. Guys do it all the time, and nobody thinks anything of it,” she said , expressing a deeply held annoyance.

  “True, but you still haven’t answered my question,” he said.

  “Lot’s of reasons. I realized a long time ago that marriage isn’t for me.”

  “Why?”

  Caja sighed. “Well, for one thing a husband would probably expect to be number one in his wife’s life. I’m not sure I can do that. Brickhouse is first for me.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Told me what?” she asked, confused.

  “That your husband would want to be first?”

  “Well, wouldn’t you want to be?”

  “Are we speaking general terms, or about me specifically?”

  “Oh, by all means be specific,” she said.

  “I would hope I would be so good to my wife that she would want to make me a priority. It can’t be forced.”

  “I take it you do want to get married?”

  “Of course. My folks have been married for almost forty years. I want what they have,” he said.

  “I definitely don’t want what my parents have.”

  “Divorce?”

  “If only. Or well, not on paper. But in actuality they stopped caring a long time ago. Mama gave up her life to marry Daddy and I think she resents it.”

  “Too bad.”

  She relaxed more comfortably into the sofa cushi
ons. She’d always loved this couch, the warm chenille was just incredibly soft and she was already half asleep. “I was engaged once,” she said before she even realized she’d said it. She never talked about her pathetic little incident. But for some reason she wanted him to understand why she couldn’t give him what he wanted. Couldn’t be what he wanted, and for the first time in her life she regretted that.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  “He tried to steal my company,” she said amazed at her ability to keep it pithy.

  “Tough.”

  “You do have a talent for the understatement, don’t you?”

  “Hey, I talk to second graders all day. So why did you do it?”

  “Why did I do what? I told you, I didn’t do anything. He tried to steal my company.”

  “Why did you choose a guy like that?”

  “What?” Caja barely choked out the word over her gasp of astonishment. How dare he blame her?

  He shrugged. “It’s been my experience that who we choose to be with says far more about us than it does them. Why did you choose a loser? Was it easier to be with someone who didn’t care? Who you didn’t feel obligated to?”

  Caja stared at him for several long seconds while her mind whirled in response to his questions. He’d figured out something she’d never realized. Of course, she’d never been willing to examine it too closely either. “You think I deliberately chose someone who would be as caught up in Brickhouse as I am? Who wouldn’t notice...”

  “Wouldn’t notice what?”

  “Wouldn’t notice he wasn’t number one,” she said almost on a whisper. “Oh my God, do you think that’s why...” she shook her head firmly. Going there served no purpose. “Let’s change the subject. Let’s probe your deepest, darkest secrets instead .”

  “Fire away.”

  “You’re Samoan.”

  “Really? What gave it away? The unpronounceable name or the tattoos?”

  “Smartass. Did you grow up around here?” she asked.

  “Right here in Huntsville.”

  “What was that like? This area isn’t particularly diverse.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? I get asked ‘ what are you? ’ a lot. It was probably harder on Laila. I’m big and played ball, and you know around here that trumps everything.” '

  Caja nodded. “Are your folks from here?”

  “No, they grew up on the island. Dad’s an engineer. Went to college in Seattle and went to work for a defense contractor. He ended up working all over the place. They settled here and liked it. I grew up just trying to blend in.”

  “Did you hate being Samoan?”

  “I hope not, but I suspect at times I did. I mean -- I really didn’t know what being Samoan was about. We ate some traditional food, and we went back to visit family from time to time, but other than looks I just didn’t feel Samoan. I just felt “other,” and yes, I hated it.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “The summer I was fifteen my dad took me back to the island. We stayed for the entire summer. I learned lots about my people and the culture. I got to know who they are, and that led to me knowing who I am. That’s when I got this,” he said gesturing toward his tattoos. “It was done the traditional way, and yeah, it hurt like a sonofabitch, but I wanted something to show that I’m proud to be Samoan. It’s like an outer manifestation of the inner man .”

  “I understand. It’s pretty impressive. What do they mean?”

  “This line right here,” he said pointing to a series of sawtooth markings, “That’s a caterpillar. It symbolizes transformation and metamorphosis. It’s what I was going through at the time. Evolving in my awareness of who and what I am. ” He touched a wide band of crosshatching. “This represents a fishing net, which means I’ll always take care of and support my family. The canoe on my back means the same thing.”

  “Did you get them all at the same time?”

  “No, the shark came later, when I was in college, and the apple came even later than that. The ink is fading on my traditional ones. I’m thinking about getting them refreshed.

  “Wow. What about the shark? I really like that one.”

  “Yeah. Shark motifs are used a lot in traditional tattoo. They’re fierce and awesome and that’s what being Samoan is about to me. It’s about protecting what’s yours, and that’s what I’m about, too,” he said. Looking into his eyes Caja knew his words were meant for her . T he air in the room was suddenly too thick to breathe and she looked down at her hands.

  “Uh, you want to play another game?”

  CHAPTER

  8

  THE morning sunlight streaming through the living room window nudged Caja slowly awake. Her first thought was that she’d forgotten to close the bedroom shades, a not uncommon occurrence when she got home after dark. It took a moment for her to realize that not only was she not in her bed, but she wasn’t alone either. Michael’s heartbeat thudded solidly under her head because she was almost totally on top of him on the sofa in the living room. She lay there for a moment wondering how on earth they had wound up in this position. She vaguely remembered playing games until well after midnight, then they must have dozed off. Good grief. He’d spent the night, but they’d not had sex. Nope, they’d definitely not had sex. And she had the horniness to show for it. So much for the grand seduction scene and leather corsets were probably not returnable.

  Even so, she had to admit the evening had been fun, she couldn’t recall ever playing games with a man before, at least not non-sexual ones. Of course, she knew exactly what he was trying to do. He planned to work his way back into her life until they were in a relationship before she even noticed. It was a great plan, especially since it was the same one she’d planned to use. She had to acknowledge he was apparently better at it, since despite spending an absurd amount of money at a sex shop they had definitely not had sex. Well played, Faletolu, well played, she mused snuggling into his broad chest. She had almost drifted back to sleep when the phone rang. She sat up with a start and grabbed the phone before the jarring noise could awaken Michael. Seriously, the man could sleep through a hurricane. When she saw Kit’s name and the time on the caller ID she almost screamed. She should’ve been at the gym an hour ago! What on earth was her problem? Her yelp was enough to wake Michael and he rose to a sitting position as she worked through a hasty rescheduling with Kit. Without a word he stood and wandered off toward the small bathroom adjacent to the kitchen.

  He returned as she finished her conversation.

  “I’ve got to get to the gym,” she said. “I’m horribly late.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much.”

  “What about you? Don’t you have school?”

  “Nope. It’s a state holiday.”

  “Slacker.”

  “You better believe it. You hit the shower and I’ll put a breakfast together for you.”

  “I don’t have time...”

  “It’s the most important meal of the day. Make time.”

  Caja didn’t stop to argue, but dashed off to the shower. After a hasty wash, she dressed, then took her hair down from its ponytail. She really should just cut it off again, but salon appointments were hardly a priority right now. The smell of bacon frying and coffee displaced her frenzied thoughts with definite hunger pangs. Who knew she had bacon and coffee? With a shrug she rushed to the kitchen. Michael turned away from the stove just as she entered, gesturing toward the bar he directed her to a freshly poured cup.

  “I’ve already made you a roadie to take with you, and I’m making you a breakfast sandwich.”

  Caja grabbed the cup and took a long sip. “I could seriously get used to this,” she said with a sigh. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he said, “That’s the plan, Sprocket.” She hesitated, but decided it really wasn’t worth arguing over, besides how could she complain about a dude who made breakfast the next morning? Instead she took another sip of coffee, and grabbed the
breakfast sandwich as she headed out the door. Then she stopped short. Damn, she’d almost forgotten.

  “Oh, be sure to lock up when you leave. Just put the key -- ”

  “Back inside the rock. Yeah, I know. That’s not really safe. You should stop doing it.”

  “I know, but I have the worst time keeping up with keys. Kit has an extra, but I hate calling her all the time. My folks live out in Madison...”

  “Give me an extra key.”

  “What?”

  “Give me a key.”

  “For one thing, I don’t have an extra, and why would I want to do that? Besides, you live out in the boonies too.”

  “Trust me. I don’t mind being at your beck and call. I’ll have an extra made while you’re gone,” he said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “What am I going to do? Break in here and have my way with you?”

  Considering he hadn’t done that even when she offered herself on a silver platter, Caja knew she didn’t have much of an argument. Her phone beeped again, reminding her that she should’ve been gone fifteen minutes ago. “Fine. Get the key made. But don’t you dare come up in here unless I ask you to.”

  The Cheshire Cat would’ve been annoyed by his grin, too bad she didn’t have time to wipe it off his face. “Now why would I want to do that?”

  Why indeed?

  * * * * *

  Caja, still distracted by the events of the previous evening, had barely made it through the door of her office when Kit assailed her.