So Many Reasons Why (15 page)

"No, actually it hasn't been awhile." I shot back,
instantly regretting my comment. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise. “Fine. Let me
get Cass over here.”
 

“Ok, so you and teach did the deed? Cass shot upright, her
eyes wide with surprise.
            I was
relieved. I had half expected a lecture, but Cass had once again surprised me
and accepted my feelings for Simon. She had even made a comment the other day
about not choosing who you fall for. Once Tom found out I knew I had to tell
Cass. If she found out he'd known before her, well let’s just say that would
not have been pretty.

“It was truly amazing. I've never-it was mind blowing.” The
image of Simon's naked body lying beside me filled my mind.

“This happened yesterday?” I nodded.

“And the day before.” I added sheepishly. Cass widened her
eyes. She picked up coaster and threw it at me. “Ouch!” I complained.

“You waited a whole day to tell me about this?” She threw
another coaster, this time I managed to duck.

“Sorry, I wanted to tell you in person, and I’ve been kind
of busy.”

“Fine, but I’m still pissed.” Cass grunted, frowning. “So
was that the only thing blown?” Cass smirked. I poked my tongue out at her.

“Seriously Cass. I've never come so hard. It was...” I
shivered. For once I had no words. Cass rolled her eyes.
            “Honey, not
to be rude but how many times have you orgasmed? It's not like you have much to
compare him to.” I gasped at her frankness.

“This is you not being rude? Anyway, I've orgasmed before.”
I argued. “I've been known to stroke the entrance every now and then.”
            Cass laughed
hysterically. “The entrance? She sputtered. “Babe you need all the help you can
get.” I threw a pillow at her head. Hard. She shrugged it off and continued her
uncontrollable laughter.
            “So anyway,
your man was acting strange in class yesterday.” She commented, reaching for
her water. I reddened. Her eyes got wide. “You little slut.” She cried.

“Why were you even there?” It wasn’t like she was even in
his class.

“I took the subject last year, and now I’m tutoring a couple
of students.” She shrugged. “Extra credit. Besides, he’s so much nicer now he’s
getting laid.”

This essay was giving me the shits. I'd considered dropping
the class for more than one reason, but it way too late for that. I'd get a
fail on my records. I needed more information on the Landry trial, which was in
the news now. I'd gathered as much as I could from the papers and the news, but
without going to the court case, I was having trouble getting the full story.

The effect on the community was apparent. Newspapers as far
as the UK and Australia were following the story. I could ask Cass to sit in on
the case for me, but I knew her schedule was pretty hectic right now. I threw
my laptop shut in disgust.

Damn you Mr Anderson and your stupid essays. Em xx

I waited until the text had sent through before throwing my
phone on the couch. The vibration altered me to his immediate reply. His
replies were almost always immediate.

Watch your mouth Miss Mancelli, or I will have to
punish you. What's the issue with the essay? I thought you were close to done.
S xx

My essay was finished. Until I realised I needed a decent
mark to move onto honours in my course. I flicked back over his message, the
reference to punishment making me smile.

Punishment? Sounds kinky, Professor. My problem is I
cannot get to the court so I'm having trouble covering both sides of the Landry
case. Em xx

I didn't even bother putting my phone down this time. Sure
enough, not twenty seconds later my phone rang. I answered, surprised. I hadn't
been expecting him to call.

"You watch yourself, Miss Mancelli, or things might
happen." My god, his voice was so sexy, especially when he was playfully
threatening me.
           
"Really, have you seen yourself around me? I make you crazy. You better
watch yourself.” He laughed, I could almost feel him shaking his head.
            "I've
only got two minutes until my next class. I have emailed you two numbers. One
is the number for Peter Landry's mother. The other is for Megan Delanta's
sister. Do not tell them I gave out their numbers, but you should be able to
get enough info. I think they’d both be happy to talk to you."

Wow. I was shocked at how far he'd gone to help me. He could
get into a lot of trouble for this. Then again, he’d be in so much trouble for
what he’d done with me already so what difference did this make?

"I don't know how to thank you." I stammered,
still taking in the essence of his gesture.

“Oh don't worry, you'll thank me tomorrow night on your
knees."

"With pleasure, Mr Anderson." I giggled. Simon was
right.

Both Megan and Landry's mother were more than happy to talk.
I’d been so terrified they would ask how I got their numbers that I’d crafted a
whole story about tracking them down on Facebook and then searching the
internet until I found their details.
            "That
bastard should rot in jail for what he did to my sister." Megan hadn't
even attempted to hide her disgust of the criminal justice system for finding
Landry guilty of only manslaughter. "He kidnapped, raped and murdered my
sister and argues it was an accident? How do you accidentally rape and murder
someone?"

Mrs Landry, on the other hand had been grateful at the
decision.

"My husband committed suicide last year, and peters
brother died in a car accident early this year. Peters all I have left."
She had whispered tearfully. "I know he did a bad thing, but I also know
when he is on his medication he is a different boy. He wouldn't hurt a
fly."

I spent much of the afternoon thinking. Not about my essay.
Or Simon. But about
him.
His parole hearing was coming up.

Two days.

Two days and I would know if he was being released. I had
tried so hard not to think about it. I couldn't think about it. Not without
breaking down.

Talking to the people hurt most in the Landry case had made
me realise I wasn't the only victim in my situation. I'd never considered his
family. How had his mother felt, knowing she'd raised a son capable of doing
what he’d done? Did he have brothers or sisters? They must have gone through
hell after his conviction. His name was in no way concealed through any of the
trial. Everyone knew who he was, and people can be cruel to relatives of
offenders. I took a deep breath. I needed to stop.

I took a long shower, forcing every thought out of my mind.
Simon had texted he was on his way over. Stepping out of the shower, the
doorbell rang. Shit. I had expected more time. I quickly dried myself and threw
on a sun dress. Finally. I threw the door open and smiled at him. It suddenly
occurred to me how much better I’d become at the simplest thing like opening
the front door. Gone were the heart palpitations, knots of anxiety, and
feelings of terror. In replace were feelings of excitement. Speaking of which,
god he looked good, the last few days apart somehow made him seem even more
attractive, if that was possible. He eyed my dress appreciatively.

“You look pretty.” He wet his lips, my eyes drawn to them,
so soft, so moist. I leaned in and kissed him. Wow that felt good. I felt his
hand graze my ass.

“No underpants?” He raised an eyebrow. I swatted away his
hand as it tried to work its way under my skirt.

“I was hot. And in a hurry” I said defensively. He shook his
head, amused. His fingers raised the skirt of my dress again so his hand
touched my bare bottom. I bit my lip. It took all my willpower not to throw
myself at him. As much as I wanted him now, I wanted him to want me more. I
groaned inwardly. How old was I, six?

No, that would be weird. I laughed aloud, earning myself an
odd look from Simon.

“Do you often laugh at nothing?” He teased, slapping my
bottom. I jumped, not expecting that. It tingled where he had struck me.

“Yes.” I answered honestly. “I'm kind of weird sometimes. I
thought you would have figured that out by now.” I confessed, smiling like an
idiot.

“I have noticed.” He laughed, kissing my nose.  He
began to fiddle with the buttons on the front of my dress. “That's one of the
things I love about you.”

“That I'm weird?” I replied, crinkling up my nose. Usually
people hated that. People being my family. My family meaning my mother.

“That you are who you are.” His hand roamed over my upper
back. “No bra either.” He said approvingly. I giggled as he slid the dress off
my shoulders. Soon, I stood in front of him, completely naked.

“Turn around.” He instructed. I did. I breathed in as his
hands began to work their way over my body. He reached around my stomach,
lifting his hands over my breasts. They rested there while he kissed my neck.
He spun me back so I faced him. He grabbed hold of my thighs and hoisted me
onto his hips.

He pushed my back against the wall, his erection very
obvious. He continued to kiss me as he led me to my room. He threw me onto my
bed, literally. I laughed, my body bouncing at the force I was thrown with. I
self-consciously grabbed hold of my breasts which were also jiggling about with
the movement.

“Don't cover them, they're so sexy.” He protested,
restraining my arms either side of my head as he took in my body. He kneeled at
the edge of my bed, parting one leg and placing the other over his shoulder. He
was face to face with my sex. He gently blew on my opening. I gasped, thrusting
at the sheets, I grabbed a handful of pink and blue floral duvet and clenched
my body as he began to lick my opening.

“Oh my lord.” I gasped, groaning loudly. He held my legs in
his firm grip, my squirming getting me nowhere.  His tongue moved in
circles, hitting the right notes, like he was a musician in an orchestra.
Occasionally he'd nibble gently sending ripples of ecstasy through my body.

“Holy fuck!” I groaned. In the distance I heard the faintest
of voices respond to my calls.

“Emma? Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” That was
so not the voice I wanted to hear while my boyfriend was going down on me.

Ever.

I sat bolt upright, my eyes wide. Simon noticed my panic and
let go of my legs.

“It's my fucking mother.” I gritted my teeth. I stumbled
around the bed looking for my dress. My sex ached for Simon's tongue to finish
me off. So, so close. I was throbbing. Throbbing!

I finally spotted my dress and threw it on, just as mom
walked into the bedroom. Simon sat on the edge of the bed, he at least had the
decency to look embarrassed.

“Mom, hi.” I said breathless. I prayed my dress was not
inside out or back to front. Mom looked back and forth suspiciously. I managed
a smile and glanced at Simon, who was eyeing the floor sheepishly. “What a
surprise.”

“I'll put coffee on, shall I?” She said with a raised
eyebrow. She knew, oh god she knew. I glanced over at Simon. His shoulders
shook uncontrollably with silent laughter as she left the room. I glared at
him, failing to see how this was in any way funny. That just made things worse.
He covered his mouth, trying to disguise the odd choke of laughter as a cough.
He was not a convincing liar.

“I haven't been caught with a girlfriend by her mother since
I was sixteen.” He gasped, still laughing. I shot him a look.

Still not funny.

Mom set the coffee in front of me. After a quick
introduction, Simon had made excuses about having to leave. I took the cup,
paying too much attention to the ribbons circling the cup. Anything to avoid
the conversation I knew mom and I were about to have.

“How's Tom?” Mom asked pointedly. There it was. Mom's subtle
way of prying into my love life.

“Tom and I are just friends. We have always been just
friends.” I steadied myself for the usual barrage of unwanted love advice.

“Well that's not true. You two used to be joined at the
hip.” Mom argued, her frown firmly in place with no intention of leaving. I
sighed. This was going to be much harder than I thought. Mom loved Tom.
Everyone loved Tom it seemed.

“Tom and I have only ever been friends.” I repeated. Slower
this time. I don't know if mom noted the frustration in my voice, but she moved
on.

“And your new friend? Simon?” I hated the way she said his
name, like she'd just eaten a bad olive.  “How does he fit into the
picture?”

Oh god.

“He is a friend.” My palms lay flat on the couch. I pressed
my hands down, as if trying to keep my composure. “A good friend, mom.”

“Right.” Mom nodded, pursing her lips. Finally, she got it.
She looked stared hard at the window, as if taking great interest in the blue
grey curtains that hung on either side. I hoped they weren't dusty.

She looked at me. She had the same expression Carol always
gave me. Disapproval.

“I think I see what's going on here. How old is your new
friend, exactly?” I took a breath. Here we go. I knew the age difference was
going to be a problem for my mother. More of a problem than him being my
teacher, not that she'd admit that.

“He’s thirty-eight, mom.” I said, shifting my feet under the
chair. I hadn't realised how uncomfortable these chairs were. I thought about
lying. He could pass for late thirties quite easily. Mom let out a horrified
gasp.

“Emma, he is eighteen years older than you!” Mom was
shouting by this point. I resisted the urge to cover my ears. Her voice was
grating on my nerves. I could feel a headache forming in my temporal lobe. I
gently rubbed at it, wishing I could somehow stop this entire conversation.

Why should I have to apologise for his age? I am an adult,
capable of making my own decisions. “Did I mention he has a four year old
daughter?” I said sweetly. I was viciously rubbing salt into the wound, but at
this point I didn't care.