Make Me Bad: Private Lessons

by Vega, W. H.

  I’ve noticed that divorced women, especially in their thirties, seem just a bit on edge. They are about as obnoxious as they come – biological clocks ticking and all. And while Juliette is beautiful, sophisticated and charming, there is just a hint of desperation about her. Some women are afraid to end up alone and I think Juliette sees her days as numbered if she doesn’t find someone soon.

  The last thing I need is to get involved with Juliette and wind up with a whole lot of crazy in my lap. No thank you.

  “How about this?” I suggest. “I go and meet her family since I sort of agreed that I would, and we’ll leave it at that. There’s no reason for me to continue to socialize with her anyway.”

  “That sounds fair.” She finishes her sandwich. “Oh, and there is a possibility that my parents will be coming to Paris to visit for a long weekend, probably in about two to three weeks. Just thought I would give you a heads up.”

  “Okay, I appreciate that. I guess I’ll just have to make do without you for a weekend.”

  “I don’t like that idea.”

  “Neither do I, but I’m certainly not going to be hanging out with you and your parents.”

  “Well, maybe you can at least meet them,” she hedges, “I can introduce you as my music professor, which you are. You are giving me private lessons, after all.”

  “There are plenty of private lessons that I’d like to give you,” I growl.

  Madison giggles, flushing pink. “I like the sound of those lessons.”

  Before I can make another smart-ass comment, her phone starts to vibrate.

  “It’s Cleo,” she says, “I should answer.”

  I nod and wait for her to take the call.

  “Hey,’’ she says and then pauses. “Yeah, we finished early. My group worked pretty quickly.” Another pause. “No, I’m not home yet. I stopped to get a sandwich; I was starving.”

  I sit back in my seat as I watch her. Her hair is different today and I notice her nails are a different color than they were earlier in the week. I think about taking her back to my apartment, slowly undressing her, and spending the rest of the day having that lazy kind of sex where you take your time and nap, and then do it all over again.

  But I have a feeling that isn’t going to happen today.

  “No, don’t worry about it,” Madison says, “I’m just finishing up now so it doesn’t make sense for you to meet me.” She’s quiet again. “Okay. See you at home.”

  She hangs up and gives me an apologetic look. “I’m going to have to go in a few minutes. Cleo is on her way back.”

  “It’s not a problem.” I pull out a few Euros to pay for our meal. “Are there any plans with the study abroad group this weekend?” I ask casually.

  “Nothing I’ve heard of, but I’ll check with Cleo. Why? Would you like to come with us if we do something?”

  “Well, I don’t really care about everyone else, but I do like seeing you.”

  “I’ll text you if I find something out. I imagine some people will try to get together.”

  “It might be weird if you text me,” I point out.

  “Maybe not. I could say that I have your number because of our lessons.”

  She does have a point. “Or, I could invite everyone over to my apartment,” I suggest. I’m not crazy about the idea, but if that means that I get to see her, then it might be worth it.

  “That’s an idea,” she says slowly. “Let me know if you decide to do that and I’ll spread the word.”

  “It’s too late to plan something for tonight,” I say, actually thinking about entertaining. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “I’ll miss you,” Madison says in a small voice as we stand up. “I was hoping to see more of you this afternoon.”

  Her meaning isn’t lost on me.

  “I was hoping for the same thing,” I say in a husky voice. “I could have given you some of those other private lessons that we were talking about.”

  She closes her eyes with anguish. “Another time.”

  “Yes,” I promise. “Another time.”

  We walk out to the street and part ways, purposefully not embracing.

  As I head back to my flat, I wonder what I've just gotten myself into. I’ve knowingly and willingly entered into a relationship with one of my students.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luc

  I spend the rest of Friday night alone in my apartment, and honestly, I don’t mind it. I play some music and get caught up writing a new piece for a couple hours. I hate to admit it, but Madison's on my mind the entire time, and I realize that being with her might be good for my music too. She’s inspired a piece that I feel really proud of, and I have a feeling this might just be the beginning of her influence on my life.

  When I’m satisfied enough with the piece, I make myself some dinner. I’ll go back to a new composition multiple times, but after I first compose something, I need to walk away and let it sit for a few days before I go back to it.

  I’m not usually one for entertaining but I'm excited the prospect of having the study abroad students over. Though, I wonder if it’s the right thing to do. I’m not a social person by nature, but I imagine that other study abroad advisors probably hosted events for their students. I, on the other hand, have met my students out at bars. Maybe I should be organizing some trips around Paris or outside of the city on weekends?

  Shit. I’m a terrible advisor. In fact, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure that I am supposed to be organizing events for the group. I’m going to need to get on that.

  I decide to have the students over tomorrow night, if they don’t have plans, and I’ll come up with a couple of ideas for some activities around the city for the next few weeks. Once I have Madison alone again, I’ll ask her to help me plan a few.

  I send her a quick text around nine in the evening.

  Going to have all the students over for a “Welcome to Paris” night tomorrow evening. I’ll send out an email, but can you and Cleo spread the word?

  She texts back almost instantly.

  Sure! That sounds great! Cleo is excited too. What time? And I will need your address ;)

  Hmm. I wonder if she’s told Cleo about us yet. And she’s right; I need to give her a time. And what the hell is that weird smiley face? Is it winking at me? She knows my address, but I guess she’s playing as if she doesn’t know.

  Let’s say 7:30. I’ll have wine, beer and food.

  I text her my address since technically, she shouldn’t know it and shift my focus to tomorrow night.

  I look around my apartment and realize that it doesn’t really need to be cleaned; it feels hardly lived in. I make a plan for the day and then go to sleep, unable to stop thinking about Madison.

  I wake somewhat early the next morning, and feel more rested than I have since arriving in Paris. I shower, get dressed, head out for coffee and buy groceries for the evening. I am by no means a chef, so I stick to simple things such as bread, bakery goods, meats, olives and some fruits and vegetables. I drop the food off at the apartment and head back out to pick up alcohol and a few other drinks. That should be good enough.

  I hear from Madison later in the morning. She informs me that she and Cleo contacted everyone and most were coming.

  As I finish wiping my counters down, my phone rings. I see that it’s Juliette calling and I don’t answer. It can’t be a good sign that she is calling only twenty-four hours after our lunch. I wasn’t expecting such immediate contact from her; I hoped that I could push her off longer.

  I’m more concerned after listening to her voicemail. She chirps about how lovely it was to see me, and that she could easily make an extra trip to Paris this week so we could get together again. She then says that her ex-husband has the girls this coming weekend, but if I'm able to make it out on Thursday evening, she could make dinner for all of us. She also lets it slip that I’m more than welcome to come visit over the weekend while she has t
he place to herself.

  Right.

  I decide not to respond for a few days. I would prefer to just ignore it, but I know that would make me look like a complete asshole.

  The rest of the day passes quickly and soon, it’s almost time for the students to arrive. I have a trip idea for next weekend, and decide to worry about subsequent trips later.

  The first to arrive are Ava and Grace.

  “Hi!” Grace says cheerfully as they enter. She’s carrying a bottle of white wine and seems completely at ease. Ava checks me out, and I try not to pay notice to ways she’s looking me up and down. I’ve gotten a weird vibe from Ava before but I’ve just ignored it.

  “Cleo and Maddie told us that you would have wine, but we thought we would still bring a bottle just in case,” Grace says, slinging her bag and coat down on one of the chairs and putting the bottle next to the others.

  “No, that’s fine,” I say, “Thanks for bringing it.”

  “This is really nice of you,” Ava remarks, looking around.

  I shrug modestly. “I probably should have done this earlier. I haven’t been the best advisor.”

  “I think you’re doing just fine,” Ava says somewhat coyly.

  A few moments later there’s another knock at the door and three more students show up. They begin chatting with Ava and Grace and I slip back into the kitchen to get out the wine glasses.

  I hear more voices enter through the front door and when I turn around I see Madison standing in the center of the room, smiling happily at me. She’s dressed in a long plum shirt with leggings and boots and her hair is hanging down her back.

  I smile back at her and go over to say hi to her and Cleo. I take their coats and come back to find her looking out the window, craning her neck to see the Eiffel Tower.

  “I love the Eiffel Tower,” she sighs as I come closer. “Is that cliché of me?”

  “Not at all.”

  I’m called away before I can say any more and soon there are ten students hanging out in my small living room. The wine is flowing and everyone seems to be in a good mood. My idea of organizing a trip to Versailles the following weekend is met with enthusiasm, and I promise to send out details at the start of the week.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Madison slip into my bedroom to use the bathroom. Everyone is listening to one of the guys, Jeff, who’s telling a funny story about trying to speak to the locals in French. I slip into the hall and enter my bedroom, softly shutting and locking the door behind me. I grab her as she comes out of the bathroom.

  She gasps as I push her up against the wall.

  “What are you doing?” she whispers, her eyes bright with alarm and desire.

  “I can’t see you like this without touching you.”

  I push her against the door and crush my lips to hers.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Madison

  I groan softly as Luc kisses me, but I know we can’t do this now.

  “Luc,” I moan, “We can’t.”

  “Just for a minute,” he breathes, sliding his hands up my shirt, and into the cups of my bra.

  “Ohh,” I groan as he squeezes at my breasts, and my nipples harden under his touch.

  “You have no idea how much I want you now,” Luc says in a dark voice, bucking his hips against me so that his erection rubs against my sex.

  “Mmm, I want you, too, but I need to get back out there.” I force myself to push him away, but he softly pulls me back. He looks at me with dark eyes and then drops to his knees.

  “What are you doing?” I squeal.

  He looks up at me seductively. “Just a taste.”

  He then yanks my leggings down.

  Oh. My. God.

  His hands grip my thighs, squeezing at my flesh, and then he greedily yanks my underwear down and pushes my legs further apart. Before I can protest, he pushes his face up between my thighs and then I feel his hot breath and his warm, wet tongue.

  “Oh god, Luc, you can’t,” I pant; fisting my hands in his hair and leaning my head back against the door for support.

  “Try to stop me,” he threatens, and I let out a little moan of pleasure. His tongue laps at me again and again, and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.

  Abruptly, he stops and stands up. “That’s enough for now,” he says, giving me a sexy smile.

  “You’re such a tease! I can’t believe you just did that!”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “No.”

  “I’m going to head out there. Fix yourself up and come out a minute later.”

  Before I can say anything else, he slips out the door.

  I stand there for a moment unable to move. I can’t believe he’s just going back out to the party, acting as if nothing happened after he just buried his face between my legs.

  “Holy shit,” I breathe, trying to gather my thoughts. I open the bathroom door, and quickly fix myself up. I then hurry out of the bedroom door, wiping my face blank so no one suspects anything.

  Luc is in the kitchen, cutting up more baguette, and everyone else is sitting on the floor and couches, now talking about Versailles.

  “Hey!” Cleo says as I approach, “Versailles is going to be amazing, isn’t it?”

  I don’t say that I’ve been before with my parents. “Yes! Definitely.” I ease onto the floor, still feeling the burning heat between my legs, and force myself to participate in the discussion about what other sights we can visit while in Paris. I want to volunteer that if anyone knows best it’s Luc because he’s spent so much time here, but I can’t since that would give us away.

  “You know what else we could consider?” Luc says, coming back to the group with a plate of fresh baguette slices and softened butter. “We could consider doing a day trip to London.”

  “London?” Grace asks, skeptically.

  I smile enthusiastically. I love London and it’s actually a great idea. “Yeah! It’s only a couple hours if we take the Eurostar.”

  Luc nods. “Maddie’s right. We could head over in the morning, spend the day and then come back in the evening. We don’t have to go together. Or we could all go over together but break up to do separate things. It’s a very easy day trip.”

  The group is excited, and everyone starts suggesting different times we could go. More wine is consumed as the night goes on, though I notice that Luc is careful not to drink too much.

  I do the same.

  The group starts a ridiculous game of charades and I watch with amusement. Luc sits down on the couch next to me.

  “Enjoying yourself?” he whispers.

  “Sure.”

  He keeps his voice low. “Have you told Cleo?”

  “Not yet. I thought it would be easier if I waited until after tonight. I didn’t want her to be watching us like a hawk.”

  He nods, randomly calling out a guess to the game going on.

  “I’m surprised. I thought you would have told her right away.”

  “Nope.”

  “Can I see you during the week?”

  I smile. “I’d like that.”

  “How about a real dinner? Just you, me and a nice restaurant?”

  My insides get all jumpy and I feel warm all over. I nod, suddenly feeling shy.

  “How about Monday night? Should be a quiet night in the city and then I’ll get to see you the next day for lessons.”

  “I’d like that.” I take a sip of my wine, feeling giddy.

  “Will you tell Cleo before then? If so, I’ll come get you at your apartment.”

  “Yes, I’ll tell her by Monday.”

  “Good. Text me your address and then I’ll come by at seven.”

  Wow! Luc and I were going to have a real date!

  He’s quiet for a moment, and I turn my attention back to the game. Cleo is trying to act out a movie and failing miserably.

  “Have you been photographed here in Paris?” Luc whispers. “Does the media know who you are? Are you even bothered by th
e press?”

  “I’m not really bothered by the press – that is one of the great things about my parents having kept me out of the limelight. And definitely not bothered here. I don’t think anyone knows me here.”

  Luc nods, taking in what I’ve said. “Have you found out if your parents are visiting?”

  “No, not yet. I’ll probably check in with my parents tomorrow.”

  “Seriously, Jeff? You’re falling asleep!” someone laughs and everyone looks over. Sure enough, Jeff’s head bobs up and he grins sheepishly.

  Ava looks at her phone. “It’s after midnight,” she says, stretching her arms up above her head.

  “We should probably go,” Grace adds, slowly standing and taking her wine glass with her.

  Everyone starts to rise and gather things to clean up. Luc jumps up and starts taking glasses from everyone and tells us not to worry.

  “Oh stop,” Ava says, “Don’t be silly.” She picks up a few plates and takes them over to the sink.

  A few people say goodbye and leave as the rest of us gather our things and finish picking up the plates. Out of the corner of my eye I see Grace nudge Ava and I hear Ava whisper, “Walk home with Cleo and Maddie.”

  What the hell?

  I catch Luc’s eye – he’s also happened to see the exchange, and he grimaces, giving me a quick shake of his head.

  The rest of the guys leave and it’s just Cleo, Grace, Ava and I left.

  “Alright girls,” Cleo says in a loud voice, “Let’s go.”

  “Go ahead,” Ava says, “I don’t mind staying to help Luc finish cleaning up. Look at all these dishes!”

  “Not a big deal, Ava,” he says dismissively. “I’m tired so I’ll just get them in the morning.”

  “But they will be a bitch to rinse in the morning,” she says matter-of-factly, “I’ll help you now and then you can relax in the morning.”