Hot For Teacher (58 page)

I brush my hands over my jeans for the millionth time. I understand my parent’s worry about me meeting a girl and getting sidetracked from my football goals, but for fucks sake I don’t know how long I can go without at least touching one. I’m the last virgin standing on the football team, and the one I
want
to touch is off limits in every way.

I brush my fingers through my wet hair. After practice I showered and dressed quickly to make it on time for my tutoring session. With only ten minutes to spare, there wasn’t time to get myself looking good.

Fuck, I’m nervous.

I round the corner leading to Ms. Tillman’s class and stop before I go much further. After a few deep breaths, I start walking. When I get to the door, I see her sitting at her desk. She is scribbling something on a piece of paper and biting her lip. Her red full lips.

I can’t bear to interrupt her, so I stand planted on the spot until she lifts her eyes to mine.

“Daniel,” she says with a dazzling smile that lights up the room. “Are you coming in?”

“Afternoon, Ms. Tillman.”  I smile back at her while lowering my head, and enter the room.

Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t really take the seat in the middle of the classroom where I normally sit. But sitting up close to her makes me panicky.

“Let’s move to the table in the back. I want you to feel comfortable with me. Forget I’m your teacher. Okay?”

Forgetting she’s my teacher? There’s no way in hell, but I nod my head and watch as she rises from her chair. She grabs a couple of papers from her desk and smiles up at me.

“How was football practice?”

Her question throws me. It’s casual, like we’re friends. My hands start to sweat even more. I can handle her as my teacher but a friend? That freaks me out and makes me want to run out the door.

“Um, coach went easy on us today at practice, since we have a game tomorrow.”

“Good. Nice to have a break. You seem ready.” Her cheeks turned pink at the words. “ Well, I saw you throwing yesterday when the cheerleaders were practicing on the track.”

She watched me.

I couldn’t suppress my grin if I tired. She smiles back and looks up into my eyes. “You’re kind of hard to miss.” She laughed.

“Everyone watches you. Shouldn’t be a big surprise. You’re a pretty big deal. Let’s get started, Mr. Football.” She walks past me and I smell her perfume’s heavenly scent.

I followed her back to the table and took a seat across from her. Her admission and slight teasing makes my palms less sweaty. Maybe I can endure being with her alone after all without making a complete fool out of myself.

“We don’t have a lot of time to work. So let’s get to it.” She wrestles some papers in front of her. I look at them closer and see that they’re the work I’ve turned into to her. I focus on the red marks and the big letter F written across them.

“Not my finest work.” I have no defense that I’m able to tell her about. I can’t admit that she’s too distracting for me to concentrate. That the dirty locker room talk from the guys about what they want to do with her and to her, also flows through my mind the entire time I sit in her class.

Yeah, I better can that shit.

“No, I don’t believe it is.” I watch her brows come together as she looks across the table at me. “I spoke with Ms. Brown. She said you did great in her class last year, and is surprised you’re having trouble now.”

“I’ll try harder.” I sigh and know I have to do better.

“I’m here to help you in anything I can.” Her words hang in the air and my horny body leads my mind into the gutter. It’s the word anything that gets me dreaming.

Snap out of Daniel.

“Thanks,” I say. “I need to work on concentrating.”

“I’d like for you to redo the work on these.” She taps the papers on the table. “But first I’d like to see if you decided on who your football hero is. Did you think of somebody?

I run my fingers through my still wet hair. How the hell am I going to tell her about my brother? He’s my hero even if he’s dead.

“Well, I have a family member that I grew up watching on the football field. But he’s dead now.” I end that comment without telling her the whole story of my brother’s suicide.

“I’m sorry to hear your relative is gone now. But you’re fortunate to have someone close to you that made a personal impact on your life,” she says in a comforting way.

“Thanks.” Please let this be the last of our conversation on this topic. I should’ve lied and told her about some random pro-player, but I can’t look into her blue eyes and lie. I feel like she’d see right through me.

“What about this man made an impact on your? Their work ethic and dedication? Or more their talent?” She tilts her head and waits for my answer, and I’m not sure I have one. “I’d really like for you to write about this man. Pretend that you’re him and on the field during a tough game.”

Discussing my brother leads me down a slippery slope that ends with my brother’s death and the disaster it made in my family. Not to mention the reason why my parent’s worries strangles me to this day. But I can’t avoid answering her.

Looking down to avoid her eyes, I begin. “It was my brother.” I hear her gasp and shoot my head up to see her eyes wide.

She
knows
.

His brother! Holy shit! The one that killed himself?

My heart skips a beat after I process his words, and realize Beth left out some very important details in our conversation about his brother.

“You heard, didn’t you?” Daniel asks as he reads the answer on my face.

“I have.” My voice is nothing more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry Daniel. I had no idea he even played football. I promise.”

“I know,” he says back to me, both of us sinking in the lingering tension. “It’s okay. Well it’s not okay, but you know what I mean.” He follows with a nervous laugh.

I make the first mistake of many, and reach across the table taking hold of his hand. I don’t even think about the ramifications, because I feel this overwhelming need to comfort him. My unfamiliar movement startles him and his body jerks to attention. However, his hand remains under mine, unmoving and warm, and our physical connection remains.

“I’m here if you want to talk about it.” Maybe this is what’s troubling him and why he’s struggling in my class. A horrific past has resurfaced to haunt him. I wrap my fingers around his hand and grip them in mine.

The depth of feelings I have for this scarred and beautiful young man overwhelms me, and I make the second biggest mistake of the day. I forget he’s my student. Instead I see a young man who needs a friend, and I willingly transform into one.

“I’ve not talked about what happened with my brother to anyone. My parents won’t let me mention his name. It’s as if my brother never existed and his death never happened. He’s been erased.”

He slumps against the table and begins to unravel before my eyes. The weight on his shoulders disappears with three short sentences as he speaks to me. As if they’ve been on the tip of his tongue waiting to be spoken. Damn, I know it’s wrong, but I want to be the one he leans on and helps him heal.

“But he can’t be erased in your life, because you loved him. That kind of love never stops no matter what. It’s unconditional.” He looks up at me with tears in his eyes. His blurred eyes blur the ethical lines between us even more and I rise out of my chair. I walk around the table and pull the chair out beside him.

“I’m sorry. So sorry, Daniel. You can’t keep this bottled up inside of you. It will keep you from living a real life,” I say.

I place my hand on his shoulder with my body turned toward him as I sit beside him in the chair. I feel him shaking beneath my touch, and I know he’s crying. He buries his face in his hands but there’s no hiding the deep emotions pouring from this sweet young man.

I try to soothe him by rubbing his shoulder and uttering words that tell him everything will be all right. I keep telling myself lies. Ones that say it is okay to comfort him like this, and that I’m just being a “concerned adult.” A laughable term at this point.

My rationalizing ends when he raises his head and looks into my eyes. Tears are flowing from his eyes and begin streaming down his beautiful face. I’ve never seen a person with such raw pain. His pain breaks my heart in half. Splits it down the middle leaving it open and bleeding.

I place the palm of my hands on his tear-stained face to wipe them away. But he brings his large hands up and engulfs mine in his.

We stay in this position for long moments. Dangerous ones like we’re perched on a cliff and one small movement will push us over the edge into a free-fall.

He blinks first and glances at my lips. He inches closer to me. His shallow and fast breaths breeze against my face.

His nearness, the look in his eyes, and the touch of his hands against mine are paralyzing, making me ignore the still small voice that says, “Stop. Move away. This is wrong. So terribly wrong.”

Instead I fall into the black abyss of his eyes. A dark place where wisdom and reason are silent.

Then he brushes his lips against mine with a light touch that burns me whole. My resistance is nowhere to be found, so I close my eyes and submit to the darkness drawing me down.

He brings his hands to my waist, and pulls me to him as we kiss. I taste his precious tears as I glide my lips along the shadowy skin of his cheek. Wrapping my arms around him tighter, I feel his shaking hands cup my breast.

I whisper a moan of surrender as he presses my hard nipples between his strong fingers. The pain radiates through me as a punishment I deserve. I whisper “more” to him. In a wave of motion, I find myself on his lap with my legs straddling him. Our position is deadly. One that could end and destroy me, but I’ve never felt so alive and willing to submit to what I know is wrong.

I’ve walked through my life numb for so long, and lived only for my parents. My focus was being their perfect football-playing son. The one that might redeem our family from my brother’s scandal and shameful death.

But instead I have my hands all over a woman that could fuck up our family even more. Headlines again would scream the mistake their son made. How a woman pushed him over the edge and took advantage of him. Fear of exposure should stop me, but only a gun to her head would get me to move my hands from her body.

I’ll gladly accept the punishment of my crimes, because with her hot breath against my skin and legs wrapped around me, I don’t care about anything else right now. Right and wrong can go to hell, because the thoughts I’ve buried, the lust I’ve fed my mind for her can’t be stilled. It’s out of control.

She starts to move against my dick. We may have layers of fabric between us, but I feel the warmth of her pussy pressed against me and want more. Cupping her ass, I force her harder against me, wishing the heat between us would melt away all the clothes.

She breaks away from my lips and I want to push her back against them. “We,” she says in between pants. “Need to stop this.”

“It’s too late.” My words are final. The line has been crossed. There’s no reason to retreat and step behind it again. A safer place can’t erase what we’ve shared and will continue to share if I have my way.

She must agree with me, because she continues to swirl her hips in my lap. My dick hardens beyond what I thought was even possible.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” she asks while moving in my lap.

“No,” I say and look away from her exposing stare, because I bet she knew the answer before she asking. 

“Don’t be ashamed to admit the truth.” She lifts my chin up with a delicate finger.

“Okay,” I mutter and find her eyes again. Their look burns me. Scalds my skin, and tell me to continue.

I slide my hands up her body and grasp her tits. They’re soft but firm. I’m amazed at the feel. I take the hard nipples peaking at me between my thumb and forefinger, and pinch them to a point.

I watch her eyes close and her mouth open in a silent sigh as she throws her head back. It’s an invitation to me. I lean forward and kiss along the length of her throat, feeling her quiet moans vibrate against my lips.

“Where did you learn to do this?” She asks while raising her head. Her body presses against my dick. I meet her with an upward thrust, again and again, as I curse our clothes.

“Long hours alone on my computer.” There’s no need to mention my porn watching focuses on blondes with blue eyes.

“We shouldn’t….” I silence her lips with mine.

I don’t want to hear the truth. Rules that are manmade when I know any man sitting where I am, feeling this woman in his arms, would deny them too.

Each thrust and desperate moan from her brings me close to coming. I don’t know what to do, so I decide to ask her.

“I’m going to…”

“Me too,” she says before I can finish.

I’m aching to get my hands underneath her shirt and touch the softness of her skin. Her legs and arms are covered. Her neck and hands are the only parts of her exposed.

I inch my hand underneath her tight sweater, but she grabs my wrist. It’s the first movement she’s made to stop me.

“Nothing under our clothes. It helps me lie to myself that this isn’t wrong.”

I pull my hand away but do so in a slow motion across her skin. Her stomach flinches and her breath hitches while I take my time.

Her movements speed up as she keeps her hands on my shoulders. Round and round she swivels her hips over me. I push her against me and meet each turn.

All talking ceases since we are nearly breathless. I am so close to exploding that my body begins to shake like a rocket before takeoff. All the momentum is building.

“Ohmyg…” She covers my mouth with hers and bites my lip to keep me from shouting. The force of coming raises me a few inches off the chair.

As I finish and collapse back into my seat, she arches away from me. I wrap my arms around her waist to hold her tight and watch her come apart in my hands.