Study Me: A Student Teacher Romance Page 5

  Study? Yeah, right. As if I could focus on anything. I stare at the text, and my mind wanders…and wanders.

  Class ends and I gather my things and head for the exit.

  “Miss Murphy.”

  Stepping out of the jostle of students leaving, I glance over my shoulder at Houston. Making my way over to his desk, I brace myself for the inevitable. He watches me, not speaking. My heartbeat hammers as his stare burns through me. When the only space between us is his desk, I blurt out, “What Professor Dale? I have another class.”

  By this point, the room is empty and he rolls his chair back, stretching his legs. “That’s one hell of an attitude you have,” he says, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “Attitude? What you think you’re the only one who can be commanding, and I’ll bend to your will?” I ask, my confidence coming to surface.

  “Oh, you think I’m commanding?” He leans back further in his chair, and I decide I’ve had enough.

  “Sit up straight, Professor. I’m in charge now.” I grab the pointer off his dry-erase board and pull it open, snapping it down on the desk with a loud whack.

  He grins and complies. “Sorry.”

  “That’s what I thought. Now, what is your problem with me today? Why are you being so cold?” I stalk toward him, circling his chair with the pointer resting on my shoulder. “Stand up, and bend over the desk.”

  “What?” he scoffs.

  “You’ll listen to me and do as I say,” I whisper near his ear, right before I slap the pointer down on the desk for a second time.

  He surprises me by slowly standing. He doesn’t bend over, so I slap the pointer along his ass. He growls, loud. I rake the pointer down his chest. My other hand grabs his tie, fisting it in my tiny hand, and I yank him closer. “You going to be a good boy for me?” I ask him.

  He swallows hard, and I lick the tip of his nose. “Yeah, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

  “Very good.” I can’t believe how turned on I’m getting.

  Releasing him, I climb the desk, crawling along the top on my hands and knees. Houston breathes deep as I glance over my shoulder at him. “You like spanking me, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” he breathes.

  “Do it. Do it hard.” I stick my ass in the air, my short skirt riding up my skin, baring my cheeks for him. “Do it.”

  “Miss Murphy, did you have a question?” Houston stands at the front of the class, his arms folded across his chest. His dark eyes stare at me. Along with everyone else in the room.

  “What? No,” I mutter, my cheeks blushing.

  “Stop daydreaming, Miss Murphy.”

  What? It takes me a moment to register where I am. My thoughts of spanking him with his pointer fade.

  “You’re supposed to be using this time to study. Not daydream,” he barks out.

  I stiffen in my chair. Did I moan out loud?

  “Yeah, she’s daydreaming about me,” a red-haired guy a few seats over says. He laughs with his friends for a moment, and Houston’s anger multiplies.

  “I have no doubt you would like that.” His eyes glance at the guy, then back at me. “Marley, whoever you’re daydreaming about, you need to stop right now. Are you going to daydream when you’re operating on a patient?”

  “No,” I deny.

  He really does need that pointer across his ass. If I could give him the finger, I would. Since I’m not quite that brave, reaching down, I grab my bag, put away my things, and walk out.

  12

  Houston

  March 20th

  A hard Monday.

  Some days get harder than the last. I don’t know if I can keep doing this. The anger inside is too much to bear.

  After my long day at NYU, I head to the sanctuary of my home. I need to brood in silence and take out my frustrations over a bottle of Jack.

  As soon as I walk inside, I grab a highball from the counter and watch as the two ice cubes clank against the glass. The amber liquid runs over, and, for a moment, I get lost in the tranquility of the motion.

  This day was not how I envisioned. Marley infuriated me. Her daydreaming, probably about the asshole she was with yesterday, upset me.

  Fuck. Pouring another glass of Jack Daniels, I fall onto the couch with a loud thump, the liquor sloshing on me. Shit. I need to get my act together. Fooling around with a student was never on the agenda. But neither was what led me to this situation. And for some fucked up reason, she tampers it down.

  After a few shots of Jack, I pace my apartment, fueling my anger. Who does Marley think she is? It’s her fault. She tempted me with her sexy body, and I was helpless to control myself. My anger gets the best of me as I fist both hands along my sides. I won’t let her get away with the spell she’s trying to cast on me.

  Somehow, in my drunken stupor, I make it to her apartment building and pound against her door until she opens it.

  “Houston? I…uh,” she says, her hair mussed from sleep.

  I smash my lips to hers to shut her up. She’s not allowed to talk until I’m good and ready to listen to what she has to say. And right now, I need silence.

  I move her into the living room with our lips still connected. She tastes sweet. My hands move through her silky hair as her fingers dig into my back. I want her to dig deeper, cut me open and let all the ghosts bleed out.

  Her eyes are wild with desire when I break the kiss to tell her, “Don’t ever tease me during class again, got it?”

  “Don’t ever treat me like a second-class hooker, and I won’t,” she bites back, sharp and ferocious.

  By the looks of it, her heart beats just as fast as mine.

  “What do you want from me, Marley?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know. I don’t like the way you treated me today. You treated me like a …,” she trails off.

  “Slut?” I finish for her.

  “Yeah.”

  No longer drunk from the liquor, but intoxicated by her raw beauty, I stalk closer, pulling her chin closer to my mouth.

  “You’re nobody’s slut but mine.”

  Her eyes widen at my words, and her tight-lipped expression fills with fury. She wiggles free from my hold.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “No,” I retort.

  “I can taste the liquor on your tongue.” She steps back two paces, and I follow her. Stealthy and determined.

  “So. Who was that man you were with?” I’m angry at what she may say and I wrap my fingers around her tiny neck.

  “What?” She tries to wiggle free, but my grip tightens.

  “The man at the Tasty Bean?” Answer me.

  She stares right through me. “That was my brother, Erik.”

  Relief floods me and I draw closer, releasing my grip. “Do I frighten you?”

  “Right now, a little.” She crosses her arms over her chest and the action causes her shirt to bunch around her breasts and showcase her cleavage.

  “Good, Marley. Be very afraid.”

  A spark ignites in her eyes. “And what are you going to do?” she challenges.

  “Test me and find out,” I demand. All the emotions that have been bottled up for so long claw beneath my skin, trying to tear themselves free.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it almost sounds like you want me to.”

  “I do.” I want her to run. To fight me. Claw me. Mark me. Make me hurt more than I already do. Give me a new pain, so I know I’m alive. “Help me, Marley.”

  Her eyes flit over my face and then something flickers in her eyes, recognition of what I need from her right now, and she gives it to me, willingly. “You sure?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  She licks her lips, determination flaring in her eyes. She thinks she can fix me. She can’t. A few seconds’ pass before she gives a little nod and then says, “Fuck you.”

  In a flash, she runs from me. Good girl. My blood heats. Even half drunk, I’m faster. She lets out a squeal, elbowing me, when I grab her aroun
d the waist and haul her over my shoulder. The harsh slap of my hand on her ass causes her to claw at my back. She’s perfect at this.

  Carrying her to the bedroom, I toss her onto the bed. Our panting fills the quiet room. There is no fear in her eyes, only lust. Lust that matches my own. Her pink pajama pants are removed in a quick pull.

  “Yes,” she screams when my hungry mouth connects with her panty-covered pussy. The damp material moves along my lips, the lace tickling my chin as I push my face further into her, my fingers clenching her thighs.

  Her hands fly into my hair and she tugs, hard. Hard enough to sting, and it feels so fucking good. That’s what I need.

  “Give me your hate, Marley,” I growl against her pussy. “Show me how much you hate me.” She can’t hate me more than I already do.

  Sitting up, I trail my fingers along the contours of her thighs and when I reach the black lace of her panties, I yank them down her smooth legs. Her body arches beneath me as she closes her legs together.

  “Don’t hide from me.”

  “You want more?” she whispers, her pants making the sound of her question so fucking sexy.

  “Give it to me,” I answer. “Resist me.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” Her small foot connects with my chest, sending me back. She scrambles, but I’m still faster. Grabbing her ankle, I pull her back and spread her legs.

  “Open for me.”

  “Fuck, this is so hot,” she says.

  Her pussy glistens with her arousal. She’s a perfect student for this fucked up lesson in what I need from her right now. She reaches out to stroke my cock, and my head falls back as I let out a groan.

  She knows just how to drive me insane. Push me to the edge, and then pull me back from the fall. Removing her hand, I seek the refuge only she can offer me. A moment of reprieve where I don’t need to think about the hell my life has been. The only thing that matters right now is making her come all over my tongue.

  Sliding down between her legs, I bite the inside of her thigh and then lap at her wetness as she cries out for more. My tongue dips inside her, and I fucking love the way she throws her legs over my shoulders, grinding her cunt against my face as my hands reach under to cup her ass.

  “Oh fuck, Houston don’t stop,” she wails. And, I don’t plan on it. Circling her clit with my tongue, I draw a finger through her pussy, then slip it inside her, making her squirm even faster.

  Her fingernails deepen in my scalp as her body loses control, and the taste of her orgasm coats my tongue. As soon as her body calms, I rise.

  My cock is in my hands within a second, pumping roughly as she watches.

  “You make me so fucking hard, Marley,” I groan as her eyes watch my hand squeezing my dick.

  I lift her shirt and grab at her tits with my free hand. Her nipples pebble, and I clench my teeth.

  The moment my orgasm takes over my body, I slam my eyes shut. “Fuck, baby. I’m going to come all over you.”

  “Do it,” she pleads.

  Scooting up higher, so my cock is positioned right above her tits, I gaze into her eyes. She bites her lip and it’s my undoing. My orgasm shoots through me, and I release myself all over her round tits. She moans, her hands smearing it over her nipples. So fucking hot.

  As soon as my orgasm fades, Marley smiles and I turn my head away. I can’t look at her sweet smile.

  “Fuck,” I murmur, the guilt hitting me with a force so fierce I can’t hide from it any longer.

  Tucking myself back into my pants, I get off the bed and walk out of the bedroom.

  “Houston?” Marley calls out, trailing behind me.

  As I move from her living room toward the front door, she grabs my arm. “Will you talk to me?” she pleads. “What was this?”

  “This was a huge mistake,” I say, slamming the door behind me.

  13

  Marley

  Delirium-noun-wild excitement or ecstasy.

  What the fuck just happened? I plop down on the couch, letting out a sigh, and run my hands into my hair. This man has serious issues. You don’t have to be a board-certified psychologist to figure that out. One minute he’s making me come, the next he’s slamming the door in my face. Actually, I may be the one with the issues. I’m letting it happen.

  Well, no more. This push and pull with him has gone on long enough. So, I decide to do what I should’ve done when he got here—I’m going to confront him. I dress quickly in yoga pants and a hoodie, throw on some sneakers and head out. When I reach the street, I find his address in the directory on my phone. Oh. Well this won’t take long, he’s right next door in the building next to mine. I cross the marble tiled lobby in his building and take the elevator to the second floor. When the doors slide open, I grip the handrail and let them close. And ride back down. I didn’t say this would be easy to confront him. At least I’m making an effort, trying to be an adult about this. Which is more than I can say for him. The elevator doors open, and I close them and ride back up. Fuck. I ride back down. Maybe I’ll be an adult tomorrow. When the doors swoosh open, Houston stands before me.

  “What are you doing, Marley?” he asks, holding back a grin.

  “What are you doing in the lobby and not in your apartment?”

  He holds up a bunch of white envelopes. “Checking my mail. Now what are you doing, Marley?”

  All my courage evaporates when I step out. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve been watching you ride up and down the elevator for the last five minutes.” And then it happens. I get a full smile, and it’s dazzling.

  “You just used five muscles,” I whisper. “I didn’t think yours worked fully.”

  And then something else happens. He laughs. Well, more of a chuckle, but the transformation is stunning. I’ve never heard him laugh before. What is going on in that gorgeous head of his that keeps him closed off?

  Thinking back to our trip to Chicago, I remember his bad dream and the terrified look in his eyes. What demons is he hiding underneath his cold exterior?

  “They’re only rusty,” he says. “Why are you riding my elevator, Marley?” His voice lowers, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  And then I give the most honest answer I can, “Not physically.”

  “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He looks up at the ceiling, briefly closing his eyes, then back at me. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. I was drinking and…”

  “Stop,” I cut him off. “No more excuses, ok? You need to tell me what you want from me, because this back and forth is getting on my last nerve.”

  He pushes the elevator button and ushers me inside when the doors open. “Let’s go to my apartment and talk in private.”

  “Ok, but just so you know,” I tell him on the short ride, “I’m not letting you escape this time.”

  The doors open. “Noted,” he says, leading me down the hallway to his apartment.

  When he lets me inside, I’m not surprised by what I see. His apartment is sterile, no warm decor or pictures lining the walls. It’s large and airy and spotless.

  He gestures to the leather sofa, dropping his mail in a square white box on the counter, and I shake my head. “Listen, I’m not sure what’s going on between us,” I pause, “but you said it was a mistake. And I didn’t like being referred to as a mistake.”

  He scrubs his hand across his jaw. Obviously, I’m making him uncomfortable with my directness but too bad. “Marley, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m not a conventional man, I can’t give you the things you want.”

  My eyes narrow on him. “And what is it you think I want?”

  “I don’t know. Dates? Girly stuff?” He shakes his head. “I’m your fucking professor, Marley. I can’t do those things with you.”

  “I know.” I look down at the oak floor and then back up to him. “I never said I wanted those things.”

  “Eventually you’re going to want them.” His teeth rake across his bottom lip. “Somehow you’ve infi
ltrated my head.” He steps a little closer. “You drive me fucking insane with lust, but I can’t offer you more than sex.”

  Lust. I’m in like. He’s in lust. The middle ground there is heartbreak. “You mean like no-strings?” My stomach flips. I’m so not a no-strings type of girl. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Every sexual relationship I’ve had had enough strings to make a rope. He’s right, I will want more eventually. That’s how most girls work, unable to separate the act of fucking with making love. And then my brain does that funny thing where it scrambles to make this work anyways. It finds all the denial tools it can, grasping onto his offer.

  Well this would work, because I really don’t have time for anything more.

  Maybe it’s time to grow up and stop equating sex with love.

  Those spanks destress me.

  He’s hot.

  He’s one of the smartest men in his field, and that’s sexy.

  His laugh was magical.

  Silence fills the room as we stare at each other. I turn to leave and give him my answer before I walk out, “I’ll think about it.”

  The next morning, I do the unthinkable. I skip classes and head off down the busy streets of Murray Hill. I haven’t ventured out much since I’ve moved here, and the nice weather makes me want to explore. Just being out in the city is exciting.

  A bookstore catches my eye, and I cross the street to head inside. The door jingles as I step over the threshold, and the smell of new books tickles my nose.

  “Hello, dear,” the older gray-haired store clerk says. Her smile is bright and infectious, and it makes me feel not so alone.

  “Hi,” I respond as I spot the romance section.

  Wow, so many abs. Rectus abdominus in anatomy terms. See, this is like being in class.

  One book catches my interest, and I pull it from the shelves. A young woman and older man with his shirt open, his abdominal muscles on full display. He even has a nice set of obliques. Total learning experience. Looking at him, my mind goes immediately to Houston. He’s a few years older than me, ok maybe quite a few. Thirty-two to my twenty-four. I read the blurb…

  I thought I could tame him. I was wrong.