by S. J. Hooks
The second he was out of earshot, I turned to Matt.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hissed. “It’s one thing to say something like that when we’re alone, but to actually ask me about Ms. Wilde right in front of Rich is stepping over the line.”
“What makes you think I was referring to your dear Ms. Wilde?”
The Cheshire Cat had nothing on his grin.
“I…you…shut up, Matt!” I spat. “And stop calling her ‘my’ Ms. Wilde all the time. It’s completely inappropriate and, furthermore, she is completely inappropriate for me, so can you just drop it?”
“I don’t see why you’re fighting this,” he said, holding up his hands in defense. “Just fuck her once, don’t get caught, and get her out of your system.”
That didn’t work!
“Then you can move on to your ‘appropriate’ women,” he added, making quotation marks with his fingers. “Whatever that means.”
“Can we please just change the subject?” I asked wearily.
“Aw, come on! You’re not even going to complain about her outfit? I’ve gotten used to it now.”
“Fine,” I said. “She was wearing black ripped jeans that were much too tight, hideous sneakers, and a red T-shirt with a skull on it. A skull!”
“And her hair?” he asked with hope in his voice.
I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Some weird, uncomfortable Mohawk-looking thing, but she probably did that because she’s going to a rock show tonight.”
Matt’s eyes widened and his face lit up.
Oh, no.
“You talked to her, didn’t you?” he said with a grin. “You asked about her weekend plans and everything!”
“No, I, err…” I stammered, trying to think of a convincing lie.
“I totally knew that you liked her!” he exclaimed with unmasked glee.
“I don’t!” I said helplessly. “I, uh, I overheard her telling some of the other students before class.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Sure you did.”
“Just shut up about this in front of Mom and Rich. I’m not sure they would find it amusing that you think I like one of my students in a romantic way.”
“Romantic?” he said, making a face. “I just want you to get some.”
“And I’m sure they’d like you talking like that even less,” I added.
“All right, all right! Your secret’s safe with me,” he said, giving me a conspiratorial wink.
“There’s no secret,” I muttered, although there was. Matt just didn’t know it.
We sat down to dinner and I was pleased that he didn’t mention anything else that would have forced me to plunge my fork into his arm.
“Stephen, you’re not seeing anyone right now, are you?” my mother asked during dessert.
It was a rhetorical question. My mother knew that I had been single for my entire life. Matt perked up across from me, looking like he wanted to add something to the conversation. I shot him what I hoped was a menacing look before turning to our mother.
“No,” I said. “Why?”
“One of my friends has a daughter who’s recently moved here and she doesn’t know that many people in town. Would you like to take her out one night?”
My mother is setting me up on a blind date. How pathetic is my life?
“I don’t know,” I said hesitantly.
“I’ll do it!” Matt piped up.
“No,” Mom said, quite firmly.
“Why not? I’d show her a really good time.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she muttered, giving him a stern look.
Our parents were aware of Matt’s womanizing ways and I’d overheard several conversations between them in which they expressed their worries about both their sons. One was a regular Lothario and one was basically a monk. I didn’t know which they thought was worse.
“Stephen, this woman is just right for you,” my mother coaxed. “She’s thirty-one, she teaches high school, and she’s very down to earth.”
“Boring,” Matt mouthed across from me.
“What’s her name?” I asked.
“Lily. Should I give her your number so that she can call you?”
“Sure, I suppose that would be all right,” I answered with a shrug.
“Wait, you’re not even going to ask what she looks like?” Matt asked.
I rolled my eyes at him. As long as she wore decent clothes and knew how to apply her makeup without the use of a paintbrush, I didn’t care. In my opinion, common values and interests trumped physical appearance when it came to dating. I didn’t think I was that much to look at myself, so I never expected to end up with a stunner, so to speak, nor had I ever attempted to pursue one.
At least, not since becoming an adult. Now I knew better than to think physical beauty equaled a good heart, but it was a lesson I had learned the hard way.
“Wonderful,” my mother said. “I’ll tell her to give you a call, then.”
I nodded and dove into my cheesecake although I’d lost my appetite. I hated meeting someone new and all the anxiety and nervousness that came with it. I didn’t know how my brother did it, dating a new woman every week and feeling perfectly at ease with all of them.
* * *
The second we left the house, Matt pounced.
“You’re not really going to go out with that boring chick when you have a hot piece like Ms. Wilde, are you?”
“First of all, Lily sounds like a perfectly lovely woman, and second, I don’t have Ms. Wilde. She’s just my student.”
“If you say so,” he muttered. “I just want you to have a little fun, Stevie. Not always focus so much on work.”
“I do have fun,” I defended myself. “We’re still on for the gym and lunch afterward on Sunday, right?”
“Yeah. I have a date tomorrow night, but I plan on going to bed early.”
“Really?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“Oh, yeah, I should have her between the sheets before ten!” he guffawed.
“I thought you were devoted to getting to know Ms. Wilde’s friend. You said that you liked her.”
“I do. But since you won’t get me her number and I can’t find her online, there’s not a lot I can do.”
“Oh.” I snickered. “Her last name is actually Wilson, not Bilson. I guess I forgot to tell you.”
“What? I spent like an hour looking for Megan Bilson!”
I just grinned at him and shrugged.
“Well played, bro,” he said, looking rather impressed. “Now you’re starting to have a little fun, even if it’s at my expense.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“No worries, just remember payback’s a bitch,” he said, grinning. “Do you want to come over to the bar for a little while and have a beer?”
“I don’t really feel like going out,” I started, noting Matt’s disappointment.“But we can go back to my place. Maybe watch a movie?”
“OK, but none of that artsy stuff with subtitles,” he answered with a grin, jumping into his flashy sports car.
Chapter 8
I woke up with a headache, still not sure what I should do about Ms. Wilde’s invitation to come by her apartment later. I tried to get some work done but ended up watching movies instead, in an effort to distract myself. I checked the Facebook around dinnertime and saw that she’d updated her status.
Fan-fucking-tastic concert!!
One of her friends had commented, asking if she wanted to come to a party, and my mouth went dry.
Would she forget about asking me over?
I scrolled down, reading her answer to her friend’s query.
Thanks, but I’m looking forward to a night at home
She’d added another one of her smiley faces.
Does that mean that she’s expecting me? What am I going to do?
I paced back and forth and skipped dinner entirely, too wound up to eat. I was still no closer to a decision. As much as I hate
d to admit it, I wanted to sleep with her again. I wanted to feel her lips on mine, her tongue in my mouth, her soft breasts in my hands. The dreams that had plagued me nightly since our encounter only added to the burning need I felt to be inside her again. Just thinking about it made me ache.
But I knew that it was wrong. The university had strict rules outlawing fraternization. If I got caught, it would be the end of my job and my credibility. My reputation would be forever ruined in academic circles, which would be detrimental for someone like me, who was still trying to make a name for myself in the world of academia. Could I really risk everything I’d worked for, merely to spend an hour or two with a girl I didn’t even like?
The answer was staring me in the face. No, I couldn’t do that.
I practically fell onto the couch and breathed out a sigh of relief. Now that the decision had been made, I could finally relax. I wouldn’t be accepting her strange offer and my life could return to normal, just as hers would when she realized that I wasn’t coming over.
I wondered, though…would she be upset? I was standing her up, wasn’t I? It had happened to me once in college when a blind date never showed up, and I certainly hadn’t liked it. Doing the same thing to Ms. Wilde made me feel guilty. She hadn’t done anything to deserve such a harsh rejection. Perhaps I should just go over there and explain that we couldn’t see each other again outside the classroom.
That sounded reasonable enough. Afterward, she could attend the party that she’d been invited to and I could go home with a clear conscience. For a moment, I contemplated if it was better to simply send her a message on the Facebook, but decided against it. If I did that, she would know that I’d been perusing her profile like some sort of internet stalker, and I really didn’t want her to think of me that way. A personal appearance was much better, plus it seemed prudent not to put any mention of our illicit encounter in writing. Feeling firm in my resolve, I went out to my car, anxious for this temporary insanity to be over and done with.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, I found myself outside Ms. Wilde’s apartment, where I hadn’t moved a muscle since parking five minutes earlier.
This is ridiculous! Just go up there and tell her “thanks, but no thanks.”
I breathed in deeply and let it out again, hoping that it would calm my erratic heartbeat. I knew that I wasn’t technically breaking up with Ms. Wilde, but I still found myself worrying what her reaction would be when I told her that I didn’t want to sleep with her again. I was also concerned that she would see through my lie. I did want to sleep with her again and I felt certain that if she touched me, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I couldn’t let that happen.
I will just stay outside, politely thank her for the invitation, and then decline. No touching necessary.
Finally, I exited the car and walked up the stairs to her door. The mere knowledge that she was on the other side, waiting for me, made me jittery and lightheaded.
It’ll be fine. You’re a grown man, and no matter how great the sex was, you’re perfectly capable of resisting her. Just stay outside her apartment and give her the message quickly.
I took another calming breath and knocked on her door. After a few seconds, it flew open and Ms. Wilde appeared.
“Stephen, thank the fucking Lord, you’re here!” she exclaimed.
I opened my mouth to begin my practiced speech when she grabbed hold of my jacket collar and pulled me inside her apartment, slamming the door behind me.
That wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“I’m so glad that you’re here!” she said, ushering me toward her bathroom while I wondered what was going on.
“There’s a huge, and I mean fucking humongous spider in there and I need you to kill it!”
“Err, OK?” I said, scratching my neck.
“I mean it, Stephen!” she said, looking deadly serious. “You go Kill Bill on its ass, all right?”
“Bill who?”
“Fucking hell,” she said, flashing me one of her lopsided grins. “How old are you, anyway?”
I didn’t have time to give her an answer before she spoke again.
“OK, go all Rambo on it. You do know who Rambo is, right?” she teased.
I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, of course. I read the novel,” I said. “I’ll kill it good and proper, I swear.”
Inside the small bathroom I saw the offending arachnid, which really wasn’t as big as she had led me to believe, and squashed it with a piece of toilet paper before flushing it. Bugs didn’t scare me. Being alone with this strange girl right on the other side of the door, however, was terrifying.
“All gone,” I said as I walked back out.
“You sure it’s dead?” she asked, peeking into the bathroom. “It won’t jump up on my ass the second I sit down?”
“Positive. I crushed it. It was very brutal, I promise,” I said, smiling.
She stared at me.
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile before,” she said. “You should do it more often.”
“OK,” I said dumbly.
Her eyes traveled over me and a slow smile formed on her lips. I suddenly noticed how little clothing she was wearing: another silk robe, this one white. Her hair appeared to be slightly damp and there wasn’t a trace of makeup on her face. She looked sweet and natural, yet her eyes shone with mischief. She was so attractive like this, without the horrible clothes, hair, and makeup. I had to leave now.
Without warning, she stepped forward, stood up on her toes, and wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her soft little body against mine.
Oh, no. Touching is definitely off limits!
But God, she felt good. I placed my hands on her hips and literally couldn’t push her away. Instead, I pulled her closer.
“My hero.” She grinned. “How can I reward you for your bravery?”
This is not the way this was supposed to go.
I swallowed when she lifted her face to mine.
“Maybe with a kiss?” she whispered against my lips.
My head bopped up and down as though I was a puppet and she was the puppeteer, pulling my strings. I closed my eyes, preparing for the feel of her soft mouth against mine, when suddenly I felt her hands undoing my belt instead. My eyes flew open and I saw her kneeling in front of me, opening my pants with eager, experienced hands.
“W-wait,” I stammered. “What are you doing?”
“I didn’t specify where I wanted to kiss you,” she answered, smiling flirtatiously.
Tell her to stop, tell her to stop.
“Oh! Oh my God,” I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut when her warm lips slid over me.
She pushed my pants to the floor and ran her hands up and down my thighs. My hands moved of their own accord and I buried them in her hair, tugging it gently. The sound and feel of her moaning made me open my eyes to look her. My breath hitched when I saw that she had seemingly been watching me the entire time. I met her eyes for a second before I dropped my gaze to her pretty mouth. The sight of her lips wrapped around my length caused me to groan loudly and I felt myself hardening further. It was so beautifully erotic. Even with my lack of experience, I knew that it was a common male fantasy to have a woman like this, and I found myself no different from the rest of my gender. I did have those kinds of inclinations, no matter how much I’d tried to convince myself otherwise. I wanted this. It was too good to deny my sex-starved body, and I threw myself into the sensations, captivated by the image of her kneeling in front of me, practically worshipping me. Her hands ran up my legs and gently kneaded my buttocks. She moaned again and then I felt her push my hips forward, which made me slide deeper into her mouth.
Does she want me to move? It’s just like my dream!
I thrust forward gently and looked into her eyes. She hummed and caressed me with her wicked, talented tongue. My hands gripped her hair a little tighter as I began moving in and out of her mouth
, faster and faster. This wouldn’t take long at all.
“Oh, I’m going to…come,” I panted, moments later. “Is that…oh, God, is that OK?”
She hummed around me, and that was all it took. Moaning, panting, and shivering with my release, I couldn’t for the life of me remember why I’d ever considered rejecting her. Nothing had ever felt this good. I stroked her hair, opened my eyes, and looked at her. She smiled widely and pulled herself up, using my forearms as leverage.
“Why did you do that?” I asked, drawing a deep breath.
She smirked and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Thank you for killing the eight-legged monster.”
“I didn’t do it because I wanted you to do, um, that,” I assured her, motioning to the floor.
“I know,” she said simply.
My stomach growled and I realized that I was completely ravenous.
“Hmm, I guess I’m not the only one who gets hungry from fucking,” she chuckled. “I’ll order us some pizza, OK?”
I nodded and put my clothes back in place, all the while trying to figure out what the protocol was in this type of situation. I had shown up at her door intent on telling her that I didn’t want a physical relationship, and not even ten minutes later, she had performed oral sex on me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I watched as she grabbed her phone and started poking at the screen.
“What do you want on your half?” she asked.
“You’re texting the pizza place?”
She laughed. “No, I’m using their app. How do you order your pizza?”
“Um, with a menu and a phone call,” I said, feeling ancient.
She laughed again and gave me a smile. “You’re funny. What did you want on your half?”
I’m funny? I’ve never been told that before.
“Whatever you’re having, I’m not picky,” I said, sitting down in her beat-up armchair.
I looked around her small apartment and cringed inwardly. I had forgotten about the clutter and tried to focus on something besides the urge to start organizing her books and papers, which I was sure would offend her.