by Ronica Black
But what if the woman called while she was in class? She wouldn’t be able to take the call.
The door banged shut behind her as she entered a large lecture hall. All heads turned to face her and she lowered her gaze, refusing to meet their stares as she wound her way to a seat in the middle. She settled in and willed the heat in her face to disperse as she dug out her cell phone and placed it on silent mode.
With her palms on the desktop, she forced herself to calm down and think of nothing but her encounter at Conquest. If the woman called while she was in class, she would quickly excuse herself and leave the room to answer. She was suddenly giddy at the thought of her calling. How quickly hope had come again and it left her feeling sure the woman would call. She would be done with her day job—surely she had a day job—and she would be heading to Conquest for another night of seduction. She’d get Mary’s message and immediately call, having been just as moved by their encounter as Mary had been.
Yes, and then they’d meet and fall into each other’s arms and make love for hours, declaring their need for each other the entire time. They’d confess they never could be apart and that they should live together in a cottage off the lake where they could lie together in front of the fire and make love out in the water under a moonlit sky.
As ridiculous as she knew it was, it didn’t stop her from thoroughly enjoying the fantasy. She nearly sighed as she continued to dream, cheek resting in her hand. Her blissful thoughts were interrupted by a man walking in and placing a book bag on the front desk. He moved quickly, almost too quickly for his small stature. And when he spoke, the words tumbled out just as fast. Mary fished out a notebook and wrote down the info the man had written on the board. His name was something Mary couldn’t even pronounce and this was his first class ever. A few of the students made snide comments, but the man wouldn’t hear of it. He flashed a smile after he finished with the board and then got busy passing out the syllabus. Mary nearly groaned as she read it over and noted all the vocabulary quizzes. She did groan when she came across the oral participation and oral presentations.
She wondered if she could get out of it. Maybe take the course online again. Damn it, no. They didn’t offer one. And the oral participation was probably why.
She had to find a way around it. It was making her throat tighten just imagining it. The vocabulary she could do. Answering a question or two in class she could manage to suffer through. But oral presentations? Oh Jesus—
She couldn’t do this. She’d throw up the second she had to stand to speak. She had to talk to the teacher to find out if this was absolutely mandatory. She glanced at the front of the room, hoping to find him alone and easy to approach. But he wasn’t alone, and her worried heart froze in her chest.
There was a woman. Standing there talking to her teacher. She looked like—was—oh God—she was tall and blond with a similar haircut, and when she turned—oh God, she had the same sharp cheekbones.
Mary gripped the top of her desk, desperate to hang on.
Her teacher stood smiling, nodding his head in a slow and maddening way. Mary couldn’t take it. Her breathing grew quick and sharp, causing the woman next to her to turn and stare.
Mary was dizzy with blood-thrumming excitement, and her teacher finally introduced the woman. Professor something. Mary strained to hear. Goddamn it, speak up! He continued. She was a professor. Professor Jaeger. Head of the foreign language department. He wrote it on the board.
Oh God. Was this happening? Was it really her?
And then she spoke and Mary about fell from her chair as that thick German accent poured out in heavy power and grace. A whimper of sheer passionate recall escaped Mary, and she slapped her hand over her mouth, hoping no one had heard. But it was too late. The entire class was staring at her. Including Professor Jaeger.
Mary tried to look away, her embarrassment demanding it of her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from Professor Jaeger. And for a moment it seemed as though the professor couldn’t look away either. Their eyes were locked, and for the briefest of seconds, just at the initial glance, Mary saw that she recognized her. Her chiseled face went slack and her cheeks tinged slightly. But a half second later she recovered with a stone-like look, taking in Mary just like the others, as if she were merely an observer, wondering what the crazy student in the center of the room was making a fuss about.
Slowly, the class began to look forward again, shaking Mary off like the kind of minor and brief nuisance a car alarm would draw. Her teacher did the same and so did Professor Jaeger, speaking as calmly as she had that night at Conquest, giving instruction and encouraging students to come see the faculty if they were in any way struggling.
Mary squirmed and thought about the kind of help she needed.
It brought that hot pressure between her legs. It was a feeling she’d felt for the first time at Conquest, and she knew she’d feel it frequently from here on out. The path had been cleared for it and another rush of it came as she continued to watch Professor Jaeger.
She had on black slacks, black dress shoes, and a tight-fitting pale blouse. Her hair was worn down and over in the front, giving her a softer, more professional look. Small hoop earrings framed her face. She looked good, classy. And still incredibly sexy.
Mary sat there eating Professor Jaeger alive with her eyes as if no one else in the room existed. She almost growled like a hungry dog possessively fastened to a bone. She dared anyone around her to rattle her or to speak to the professor. She’d pounce for sure.
Professor Jaeger. Jaeger. Mary said it over and over again in her mind. She liked the way it flowed, the way it seemed to have a taste to it. She imagined saying it just before taking her into her mouth.
Movement broke her thoughts. Professor Jaeger took a seat near the front desk, crossing her long legs to observe as Mary’s teacher began class.
Mary tried to pay attention, but it was impossible. She could only stare at the back of Professor Jaeger’s head and wait. Time ticked by slowly, painfully. Each second hurt, stabbing anticipation into her gut just like the clicking of a climbing rollercoaster.
Professor Jaeger was motionless, watching their teacher as he went over the synopsis and the first few pages of the textbook. She didn’t seem fazed, didn’t move an inch. How could she be so still? How could she not turn to glance at Mary knowing she was there?
Mary willed the clock onward, but inside she was in turmoil over what she would say when the chance arrived.
Words played through her mind. “Hi? Hello? Remember me? Because I sure as hell remember you. Take me home. Make me yours. I am yours. Completely. Oh God, just touch me again.”
She nearly cried out again as if she’d spoken the words aloud. But more shocking was their meaning and truth, and she worried they would shock Professor Jaeger too.
She sounded crazy and over the top, but she couldn’t help herself. It was like her mind and body were suddenly controlled by someone else. Or something else.
The word lust came to mind as she doodled in her notebook, making the same pressured marks again and again. Time ticked on and she refused to watch the clock. When she did finally look up again, Professor Jaeger was gone. Panicked, Mary stood and searched desperately. She had to be there. Somewhere. The corners. Behind the board. By the door. But she was nowhere to be seen.
The class was repeating vocabulary words in a muted drone, sounding like an old Spanish speaking machine. The professor seemed to have vanished in the drone.
Those around Mary once again craned their heads to stare at her. The teacher, too, stopped speaking and looked at her questioningly.
“Is there a problem?”
Mary felt her blood drop to her feet. “No.” The digital clock showed ten minutes to go. She couldn’t wait that long. She had to find her. “I mean yes. I need to be excused. Please.”
The teacher lowered the book in his hands and gave a quiet, somewhat stunned nod. Mary hurried to gather her things. She left the class as they
began to drone again, one Spanish noun after another.
In the hallway she froze, unsure which way to go. She still didn’t know what she was going to say, but it didn’t seem to matter because her body just kept moving, regardless.
This was all new turf to her. These weren’t the unsure and uneasy feelings about the near future; those were old news. But this unshakable drive was new. This need and urge and ability to push on when the outcome was completely unpredictable. This was definitely new, and she seemed unable and unwilling to stop it. She hurried to her right and nearly sprinted as she searched. A few people were mingling here and there, but there was no sign of Professor Jaeger.
She headed out of the building and into the setting sun. Her breath came in short bursts as she thought. Where could she be? Maybe she’d already left. No. Mary wouldn’t let herself think that way yet. She had to keep looking. The sun glinted off the sign of the next building. It held the faculty offices. With a big inhale, she marched up to the door and entered.
The building was quiet. All she could hear was the gentle circulation of air, like the sound of a silent airplane cabin in mid flight. She grew more nervous, as if everyone in their office had heard her enter. To her relief, no one appeared and she hurried to the directory where she quickly scanned for her name. She found it at once.
Professor Jude Jaeger. Director of Foreign Language.
Jude. Mary ran her fingertip over the name as her mind played with it. So strong and sexy. She imagined calling it out in the darkest of nights.
Mary lowered her hand and headed toward the proper wing. She was nervous, yes. Now more than ever. But she was more nervous about finding Jude already gone. She’d just found her treasure and to think it might have re-buried itself in an unknown and unmapped land nearly panicked her.
She quickened her step and counted off door number after door number. The closer she got, the more her adrenaline surged, until eventually she was heated and sweating and standing dead center in front of the correct doorway.
Jude was behind her desk, a Styrofoam cup of contents unknown paused mid movement in her hand. She stared at Mary but made no motion to move or react.
“Hi.” The word came out on a shaky exhale and Mary stumbled over her feet as she came to the doorway. The word ridiculous came to mind as she forced a smile and tried to act suave. She ran a hand through her hair and eased a jittery hand in her pocket. “I’m glad I found you.”
Jude took a sip from the cup and set it down. Her eyes had drifted down to her desktop where she began shuffling papers.
“How can I help you?” She didn’t look up.
Mary fought chewing on her bottom lip. She was stumped. “I don’t need any help. I mean, not like you mean. Don’t you remember me?”
“From?”
Was she really doing this? Acting like they’d never met?
Mary took another step. “From Conquest. From the other night. We—”
Jude rose and hurriedly stalked toward her. Mary held her breath as she drew close then leaned over her to push the door closed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it so loud. I just thought—”
“You just thought what?” Jude was holding the doorknob, her face etched in stone.
Mary found herself blinking. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.”
“No, I mean yes. I tried to call you. Left you messages. Why didn’t you call me?”
Jude laughed and Mary felt foolish and frustrated. What the hell was so funny?
“What makes you sure I even got the message?” She released the doorknob and rounded Mary to lean back against the door, arms crossed over her chest. As sexy and domineering as she still was, Mary noticed that she looked tired.
“Because I left a lot of messages and one of them was with a man who said he’d give it to you. I just wanted to talk.”
“Why?”
Mary searched for words. Jude was quicker.
“I don’t talk, Mary.”
“You do remember me.” Her chest swelled and tiny little butterflies batted around her heart at hearing her name.
Jude’s face clouded. “I don’t talk. I don’t date. I don’t play little, what do you call them? Lovey-dovey games.”
“I don’t want to play games. I want you.”
Jude pushed off from the door. Mary stared at her arms, wanting to trace the lines of her veins with her lips, wanting to feel the heavy weight of her breasts again, wanting to kiss away the strained look on her face.
“Go, Mary.”
“But I—”
“Go.”
“Can I see you again? If not here, then at the club?”
Jude looked incredulous. “Have you not heard me? There will be no seeing me.”
“At Conquest. I will go there.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Then you’ll have to have them stop me.” The words just jumped out and into a hurried sentence. Her heart was pounding as if her life depended upon seeing Jude. No meant certain death. And she’d fight like mad to make sure her heart kept beating.
“Why are you doing this?” Jude was watching her, eyes narrowed.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you and the way you made me feel.” Her voice gave and she looked away. Emotion was welling in her chest, causing it to burn. When she looked back up at Jude, it was through tears. “I just can’t stop.”
A heavy silence fell over them. Mary had said her piece and yet the yearning and uncontrollable feelings were still churning inside. With Jude standing there in front of her, so close, she felt like she was going to combust if she didn’t touch her.
Mary stared into her eyes, desperate to reach her. “Tell me you didn’t feel the same. Tell me you haven’t thought of me or that you truly don’t ever want to see me again. Tell me that and I’ll go.” But just saying those words aloud threatened to shatter her. She’d fall to pieces right there in front of Jude with no way of putting herself back together again. The possibility terrified her, but she stood tall, willing to take the risk. If Jude didn’t want to be with her again then she needed to know. But was there any way back from emotional death?
“Tell me.”
Jude returned her stare, her face rock hard, showing no sign of what she was thinking or feeling. The pulse in her neck jumped, and Mary reached out to touch it. Jude caught her by the wrist and held her.
“Let me touch you,” Mary said softly.
“I cannot.” But Jude’s voice, too, had changed, like a link in her strong chain of control had given.
Mary reached up with her other hand and brushed her hot cheek. Jude shuddered and caught her again by the wrist. Mary saw it then. The look she’d been dreaming about. It nearly melted her.
“Jude—”
But her words were muffled by a sudden move on Jude’s part. Jude had turned and pressed her against the door, holding her hands captive over her head. After locking the door, she stared into Mary’s eyes while struggling for breath.
“You want me,” Jude said.
“Yes. More than anything. I—”
Jude smothered her mouth with her own, her lips so blissfully hot Mary nearly melted beneath her. She moaned at the contact, completely overwhelmed and surprised. This was what she’d dreamt of, longed for, and now that she had it she could hardly keep from fainting under Jude’s kiss. “Jude,” she said, sighing into her, wanting so much more.
Jude met her wish and granted it, pressing into her further and thrusting forward with her agile tongue. Mary returned the kiss and Jude took control again at once, capturing Mary’s tongue and sucking on it, letting it slide in and out of her warm mouth. Then her own tongue came again, stronger than ever, exploring Mary with a vengeance, as if she and not Mary was the one clinging to life, completely dependent on their fiery physicality. Jude plunged back into her and released her wrist to shove her hand between her legs. Wearing a skirt, Mary opened her legs
to allow her easier entry. Jude rubbed her fingers against Mary’s aching flesh, touching her through her panties. Mary moaned into Jude’s mouth, desperate for more. Jude answered by releasing her completely to hurriedly shove her skirt upward. Then, pulling away from the kiss, Jude eased her hand into Mary’s panties.
“Wet,” Jude said.
Mary cried out, loud and loaded with coiled erotic energy. Jude tensed and covered her mouth, then stuck her fingers over Mary’s bottom teeth to rest on her tongue.
“Suck them,” she whispered, staring into Mary’s eyes. “Suck them while I touch you.” And she rubbed her quicker, gliding her fingers along her clit, which was slick and coated with her wetness. Mary could feel it saturating, feel it pooling and touching her upper thighs. Each stroke seemed to milk more of it, and it was out of her control, coming forth in hot wave after wave. It was the same feeling she’d had at Conquest. Like her flesh needed Jude, wanted to consume her by wrapping itself around her. Mary’s knees bent and her hips began to buck on their own accord. She groaned as she sucked on Jude’s fingers.
“This is what you want?” Jude asked, her eyes fierce and beautiful.
Mary nodded.
Mary tried to groan and tried to speak, but Jude stopped her by pulling her fingers from her mouth. They were wet as they pressed against Mary’s lips, silencing her.
“Shh. You must be quiet.” She said this as her fingers slid inside Mary, hinging her. Mary shut her eyes while the fingers against her lips muffled her cry.
“Here,” Jude said. “Like this.” She lowered her hand from her mouth to grab Mary’s. Then she pressed Mary’s fingers to her lips where hers had just been. Mary opened her eyes and watched as Jude leaned in and licked her lips through her fingers, her other hand sliding up into her hole, again and again. Jude continued to kiss her, sucking her mouth in bits and pieces, lining Mary’s fingers with her tongue. All the while the fucking continued, up and hard and slick until the small noises from Mary could no longer come, eaten up by the roughness of her pleasure-plowed throat.
“There it is,” Jude said. “Take what you came for. Take it, Mary.” She shoved upward with each word then engulfed Mary’s mouth with her own. Harder and harder until Mary, losing all control of herself, grabbed Jude’s head and held her to her as she came, coming in her mouth with a desperate, hungry tongue and struggling breaths.