Her mouth parted as she drank in the air which suddenly felt too thick to breathe. She knew Mr. Taylor’s plan. He wanted to stick her with Mike in hopes she would fall for his advances and forget about her teacher. “Don’t ever push me on Mike again,” she whispered, still not moving from the door.
He rose from his seat in a slow, measured wave, rising to his full height. She never noticed the broadness of his shoulders before or the squareness of his jaw. His face was a mask, an intense mask out for blood…or maybe more. He closed the distance between them with a predatory stride. His face gave nothing of his intentions away and he didn’t say a word. When he reached her, he bent in and crushed his lips to hers, hooking an arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest.
Kaya almost lost her footing, her knees felt so weak. She drowned in the taste and warmth of the man that starred in all her waking fantasies. Kaya kissed him back with more passion than she realized she had. Eric said she was cold and lacking, apparently not for Mr. Taylor. She wrapped her arms around her neck and pressed her body into his, needing to be closer. They walked into the centre of the room in clumsy steps, never parting lips. She never wanted to be apart from him, desperate for his acceptance. Craving his warmth and affection.
“Mr. Taylor... Touch me,” she said against his lips. He groaned deep in his chest and ran his hand under the hem of her shirt. The warmth of his hands against her bare flesh thrilled her. Her pussy ached and pulsed to a beat stronger than her wild heart rate. He ran his fingers along her spine in smooth, gentle strokes. The soft touch lulled her, had her drifting far from reality.
Kaya felt triumphant, and the like the luckiest girl on campus. Cynthia may have teased her about wanting a much older man, but she'd gotten exactly what she wanted. They kissed hungrily, tasting, nipping and sucking. Her pussy was slick, her inner walls cramping.
"More," she murmured. "I'm on the pill." A knock on the door made Hayden pull away from her, leaving her empty and desperate for more contact.
He left her to open the door, his back blocking the entrance from view.
“Kaya in there?” It was that idiot, Mike.
“We’re having a conference right now. You best run along to your next class, son.” Once again, his age and position made her hot. She wanted to see her superior so desperate for her that he couldn't possibly push her away.
“Okay. Tell her I’ll see her tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Mr. Taylor shut and locked the door.
“You know who else should be getting to class?”
“What are you going to do to me if I miss a class? Punish me?” She bit her lip and hoped. His role as teacher aroused her. She still yearned to be bent over and mastered by him, to feel his strong hand come down hard on her sensitive flesh.
“Kaya. Do you have any idea how much trouble I could get in for being with you like this?”
“I can keep a secret.”
He exhaled through his nose and his nostrils flared. His expression told a story in itself. A war waged within him, right and wrong, do or don’t. She only hoped his desire for her would win through.
He cupped her face and kissed her once on the lips and pulled back to examine her. She smiled. She couldn’t help herself when he looked so handsome…and so concerned. Getting Mr. Taylor into trouble was never her intention. She wanted him, all of him.
“Go on to class. Meet me here tomorrow on your lunch hour. We need to talk.” The gentle pass of his thumb over her cheek forced her to close her eyes and cherish the affection. Hopefully his talk didn't include cutting the new, fragile bond they'd created.
****
The small Irish pub was filled to capacity being fight night. Hayden didn’t come to watch the fight on the big screen. He came out for the companionship and to clear his head. Charlie and Ross were both teachers at the university. Charlie was fifty and Ross pushing sixty. Fifty really was the new thirty because few people he knew these days looked their age. Every one of his friends and co-workers were married, happily or otherwise, but still attached. Getting a chance to have a guy’s night out came few and far between.
“You should have seen the tits on that girl.” Charlie cupped his hands over his chest to exaggerate the size. “Fucking triple Ds.”
“Haven’t you noticed how all the girls are bigger than they were ten years ago? I’m in heaven. Don’t tell Mary,” said Ross.
Charlie was a freak. He never stopped talking about the girls in his classes. As far as Hayden knew, he never acted on his fantasies, so he kept his mouth shut. It still sickened him the way he talked sometimes.
He must have noticed his distraction. “Come on now, Hayden.” Charlie clapped him on the back. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed a hot little thing or two in any of your classes this semester.”
“Charlie. You’re a sick fuck.” Hayden took a drink of his Pepsi.
Apparently he told the best joke ever because Charlie started laughing out loud and slapping the bar counter. After five drafts anything would have sounded funny to him. Hayden didn’t drink. His ex-wife never admitted she had a problem but she always had a glass of wine or spritzer in her hand. It got to the point that he couldn’t stand the sight of alcohol…or her. Cassandra’s alcoholism was the least of their marital problems.
Fifteen years he'd wasted on that woman. All his best years from twenty-five to forty were gone, and he didn’t know how the fuck he was expected to start over. He had a comfortable lifestyle, his condo was paid in full and he could come and go as he pleased. But he craved love and companionship like the next guy his age. Not what he had with Cassandra, a mutual convenience, but what everyone referred to as real love. Did such a thing even exist? The kids at the university all thought they'd found the real thing in each other, but by the next semester they were onto someone new.
Could Kaya be different? She was a woman, not a kid. He couldn’t deny his attraction to her both physically and mentally. Love at first sight? Hah. He didn’t usually buy into any of that bullshit. He was a philosophy professor for God’s sake. Such drivel didn’t exist…but it did, didn’t it? Kaya plagued his waking thoughts and his dreams. He had to think this through, but didn’t want to face the reality of what he planned. If he dated her, it would have to be done in secrecy, and that would get old quickly. Was it worth it? He wasn’t so sure.
His role as lover would be inappropriate with her being the student, but the taboo aspect was also erotic like nothing else. He craved domination over the petite little blonde. He wanted to possess her, make her beg for him to fuck her. His ex-wife was vanilla sex all the way…if he were lucky enough to get any at all. She was a loud, domineering woman and snubbed the thought of any kink in the bedroom. Her logic insisted that since she couldn’t have children, why overindulge in intimacy at all. A total waste of time in her opinion.
Kaya brought his passion back to life in ways he never expected. Deep, dark desires rose to the surface of his mind and he couldn’t push them away. They consumed him.
Hayden watched his two friends in their drunken stupor, leaning over the wooden bar. They wouldn’t feel so hot tomorrow morning in front of their classes. Right now they couldn't have looked happier, and he felt tempted to indulge in mind numbing alcohol himself. What he wanted seemed destined for disaster before he even took a single step forward. Kaya was an oasis continually out of his grasp, like a mirage in the desert to a dying man. Their student-teacher relationship, the age factor, his intimacy and divorce issues, and the fact that he had a dominant streak just waiting to be unleashed in the bedroom—were all factors fighting against a union with the curly-haired angel.
Chapter Seven
Although her roommates AJ and Carrie had gone off to bed before Kaya got home from work, Cynthia had waited up.
“Your supper is in the microwave. Two minutes and it’ll be on the table.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” said Kaya.
“I made supper for everyone tonight. A new recipe I’ve
wanted to try for a while. Turned out pretty good if I say so myself.”
“Sorry I missed it.”
Cynthia set a plate and fork on the round laminate table. She stopped and looked Kaya in the eye, disapproval marring her features. “These late hours are going to kill you.”
Kaya slipped off her jacket and washed her hands at the kitchen sink, gazing out into the darkness beyond the window. “Choices are limited with day classes.”
The microwave dinged and the smell of garlic and tomato sauce drifted through the kitchen. Kaya’s stomach rumbled. She rarely ate on her work shifts and never touched the donuts or other fattening baked goods they sold. Her crazy schedule was doing a number on the healthy lifestyle she wanted for herself.
She sat and ate what Cynthia served. Pasta tubes with homemade vegetarian sauce.
“So. Did you find Mr. Taylor yesterday?” Cynthia sat across from her with her elbows on the table and hands propping up her chin. Kaya hated to have an audience when she ate, but her friend found it the best time for conversation.
“Kind of.”
“What’s that look? And what does ‘kind of’ mean?”
“I went to his office and we had a little talk.”
Her hands dropped and she sat up straighter. “You talked with him? Not about your attraction. Please, not that.”
Kaya desperately wanted to tell her friend about the kiss. The kiss that surpassed all kisses. The excitement of the act bubbled up inside her, begging to be released, but she thought better and kept her mouth shut.
“I just had some questions about teacher college.”
“So the only person you could ask was Mr. Taylor?” Cynthia shook her head like a disapproving mother hen.
“Hey, why not? Actually, he told me to meet him tomorrow at lunch. He’s going to, um, give me some information.”
“Really.”
“You’ll be okay without me for one day, won’t you?”
Cynthia studied her face, clearly not believing that nothing transpired between her and her teacher. But Kaya wasn’t about to offer the truth. Not yet.
****
“Move it, woman!” Cynthia waited in the foyer, tapping her foot to an impatient beat.
“Coming!” Kaya raced down the stairs, ready for school. She tried to slip by her friend to get outside, but she blocked her exit with an arm barring the doorway.
“What on earth?” Cynthia inspected Kaya’s outfit with slanted eyes and an open mouth.
“What?” Kaya usually went for blue jeans and sweaters. Not today. She wore a gray plaid skirt and a skin tight black shirt that plunged low in the front. With her makeup done to perfection and black heels on her feet, she looked the part. What part? Kaya cringed. She didn’t want to be labeled, but she did want to seduce her teacher. Mr. Taylor needed that final nudge to give in to his desires.
“You do know we’re going to school, right? Not the club.”
“Just leave me be.” Kaya ducked under Cynthia’s arm and carefully walked towards the driveway. She wasn't used to walking in heels, and she already felt like an idiot. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Is this for Mr. Taylor’s benefit?”
“Hey, I’m just living a little. Remember? I’m a new Kaya and I take what I want. By any means necessary.”
Cynthia raked her eyes up and down Kaya’s curves. “You’re not joking about ‘by any means’ are you? And I thought I knew you." They got in the car and pulled onto the street. "I feel sorry for Mr. Taylor.”
“Why?”
“Resisting a hot little number determined to seduce him into submission will be one hell of a challenge.”
“Let’s just hope he loses.”
“Ugh.”
****
Once in her economics class, Kaya noticed how most of the girls suddenly grew an aversion towards her. Whispers and hateful sneers came at her from every direction. The guys on the other hand were quite impressed with her choice of wardrobe.
Kaya found economics her most difficult of her four classes. She struggled to get through each day. By the time her period ended, her brain felt foggy and heavy. As she gathered her books, her realization that philosophy was her next class cleared her head entirely.
The next class was quiet when she entered. Her heels clicked and echoed in the large, empty space as she made her way down the steps to her seat in the third row. She checked her lipstick in her compact and crossed her legs, anxious for Mr. Taylor’s arrival. If by some chance he stayed out of class again, she’d catch him after class at lunch, as planned.
A student, followed by Mr. Taylor, entered from the private lower door. The student pushed a rickety metal cart with a slide projector on it. As he arranged it into place beside the teacher’s desk, Mr. Taylor pulled down a large white backdrop screen. Class was still about ten minutes from commencing and only a few students had trickled in, but the noise coming from the hallways was obscene.
Kaya tracked Mr. Taylor’s every move. Just seeing him made her giddy. She'd never wanted any man more.
He glanced her way when he turned to sit at his desk. His eyes lasered in directly on her and didn’t falter. Only the sound of another student rummaging through their book bag forced him to look away. He appeared tired and distracted. His brooding made him sexier. All she could think about was getting alone with him again.
As soon as the class filled up, Mr. Taylor flicked off the lights and took his place behind the projector.
“We’re going to take a little break and do some art appreciation. I’d like to get some of your impressions on these pieces. They mean a lot of different things to different people. Art's known to be very subjective. A person’s life experiences can dictate how they perceive something.”
He went through several slides of beautiful artwork from famous artists of the past century. He asked questions and students answered, creating several interesting discussions. Mr. Taylor’s intelligence was the ultimate turn on. She couldn’t wait to get him alone and all to herself.
“Why are shadows used in this picture?” he asked the class. Several students offered their opinions, but none of them hit on the point the teacher wanted to make.
“Kaya?"
“The shadows are used to reflect the mood of the mourners.”
“Exactly.” He addressed the class. “Kaya doesn’t say much, but when she does, it’s brilliant.” Heat rushed from her extremities and pooled in her core. Her pussy pulsed deep and urgent upon hearing his voice and listening to his praise.
She thought class would never end. Her next period was lunch and her “date” with Mr. Taylor in the privacy of his office. Kaya stayed put in her seat until every student cleared out of the room. But once the drone of conversation was gone, she suddenly lost her bravado and wished she hadn’t worn her getup and heels.
Kaya walked down the stairs as he collected his materials from the desk. Her heels pierced the silence with an erotic echo that made him glance up. When she got to the level floor, he stood straight, his face a blank slate.
“You still want to talk with me at lunch?” she asked.
He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m almost ready.”
“No rush.” She sat on his desk beside where he stood and crossed her leg over the other, exposing most of her thigh. She wanted him to look at her with lust in his eyes. She wanted him to forget right and wrong and give into his desire and lose control. Kaya waited and hoped. She was ready to fuck him today, this minute, this second.
“You know, you really shouldn’t dress like that. I had a difficult time keeping my male students focused today.” So he did notice.
“What about you? Could you focus?”
He swallowed and wet his lips. “Not as well as I hoped.”
"That's good."
“Kaya," he started, but stopped for what seemed like forever. "I planned to tell you I couldn’t have anything to do with you romantically.”
“A
nd now?”
“You’re making if very hard for me to walk away.”
“Then don’t.” She pressed closer and kissed his lips. Immediately he looked up and scanned the empty room. If anything happened between them it had to be a big secret.
“Let’s head to my office. It’s more private.”
****
With almost no sleep the night before, he came to work more zombie than man. He got home late from the pub, but couldn’t find any peace as he laid back on his king sized bed. All he thought about was Kaya. His conscience tormented him. He wanted her for himself, but knew he had to let go and have nothing to do with her. One action that seemed impossible when he couldn’t get the girl out of his head.
He was being selfish. Hayden was forty-two, not thirty-two. But even that would have been too old for a twenty-six year old at the prime of her life. As much as he wanted her, she'd be getting the short end of the stick. It wasn't fair for her, so he'd planned to end whatever it was that had started between them.
When he came into class and saw what Kaya wore, his resolve to say goodbye vanished. She looked so utterly tempting. He always had a thing for women with long legs in heels. Hayden was glad he chose to do a slide presentation because he really needed to hide the painful bulge in his pants. He wanted to stare at Kaya's long legs and drag his tongue up the length of one, from her ankle to her cunt.
Hayden planned to keep his eyes to himself to avoid the temptation she offered during their lunch meeting. When she blatantly flirted with him, throwing in a healthy dose of sexual innuendo, he lost it. He was totally fucked because there was no way in hell he could refuse her. She played a dangerous game, telling him she wanted to bite. If only she knew the things he had stored up in his head just waiting to be unleashed.
The Good Student Page 5