Study Me: A Student Teacher Romance Page 6

  Like the mountain he lives on, he’s wild and untamed. When he kidnaps me, I’ll do whatever it takes to escape.

  One touch of her body and I had to have her. She can’t escape me. She’s mine.

  Oh my. I think back to Houston’s hands on my body. Do I want to keep letting him touch me?

  I really do. But, I like strings. They make me feel connected. And, I like Houston. A part of me wants to picture a normal relationship with him. The part that grew up believing in fairy tales. The part that wants more.

  But, he says he’s incapable of it. So, do I do it? I laugh a little as I glance at the cover of the book once more. I think I’m already too far in. At this point if Houston wants no-strings, then I will give him anything he wants. I just hope my heart can handle the repercussions.

  After purchasing Kidnapped By The Mountain Man, I leave the shop and wander the city well into the evening. My mind careens over my life. Am I happy with the way things are going? For the most part I am. I’m in one of the biggest cities in the world, achieving my goals, and trying my hardest not to fall for one of the most complicated men I’ve ever known.

  14

  Houston

  March 21st

  The more I’m around Marley the better I feel. I can’t offer her the world, but I can offer her a piece of my world.

  My feet move to her apartment of their own volition. Not even remembering the walk over, I stand on her doorstep. She wasn’t in class today, and I didn’t like the thought she might not be back.

  She opens the door and takes my breath away. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

  “I’m here to help you decide.”

  “Ok,” she whispers. “I’ve decided. Yes.”

  “Marley, are you sure?” I need her to be positive.

  She nods as her tongue swipes at her bottom lip. She doesn’t realize how seductive the action is. How it makes me want to suck her lip into my mouth.

  I hoist her up into my arms, her legs instinctively wrap around my waist, and I storm down the hallway. Flinging the door open, and then doing the same to Marley on the bed, I brace myself above her. Her legs spread for me to fit perfectly between and I shoot a low grin at her.

  “Houston? Should we be…”

  Placing my finger on her lips, I quiet her before she can continue. Her full lips curve into a smile as I lower myself to remove each shoe from her feet with precision and care, then move up to her skirt and slide it down her long legs.

  She’s sex and sweetness all rolled up into a nice little package, and I want to take my time to unwrap her.

  Once she’s completely naked, I step back and run a hand along my jaw before removing my clothes. She’s breathtaking. Which part of her do I want to touch first? Her lips? Her tits? Her fucking pussy? I want it all, like a stark raving lunatic loose from the confines of his own personal agony within his mind.

  I need the release. The bed dips under my weight as I lick a trail up her toned stomach. Her skin is like silk.

  “Fuck, you taste so good,” I say as I press her tits against my face. I suck along her breasts and then pop one nipple into my hungry mouth, encasing it between my teeth. She cries out, and I lick away the sting. Her hips buck against me, and I sit up, stroking my cock just a bit, and stare down to take her all in.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I say as I position my body over her full tits, rubbing the head of my cock between them. Desire fills her eyes and she pushes them together, capturing my cock. Oh fuck. She leans her head forward to lick the tip as I pump between her breasts. My head falls back, my abs clenching from the effort it takes to not come all over her face. When my balls are heavy with need, I reach over and remove a condom from my jeans.

  “Houston, please.”

  No need to beg, this is for sure happening, and I smile as her eyes watch my dick as I roll the condom along it.

  “You want this?” I ask, motioning to my cock in my hands.

  Her tongue dashes out along her lower lip, slow, drawn out. So, fucking sexy.

  I press the head of my cock against her entrance and catch her doe-eyed expression, blindsided by everything they represent—innocence, beauty, intelligence, and a hint of feistiness I find irresistible. I fumble momentarily, entranced by the emotion in her eyes.

  This is just a fuck, nothing more, and I need to remember that. The moment that fact is completely embedded into my brain, I slam inside her as she moans. Fuuuuck. It’s been so long, and she feels so good wrapped around me. Tight. Hot.

  “Oh God, Houston,” she cries as I relentlessly pick up momentum. Every thrust becomes more powerful than the last. She clings to me as I plunge deep into her pussy. If I could only fuck her hard enough, rough enough, maybe for one goddamn minute I could forget the past.

  I fist my hand into her chestnut hair.

  My rhythm picks up, my speed unmasked. I feel like a fucking beast on fire. She bucks beneath me as I fuck her mouth with my tongue. God, she tastes like cherries and cream. Thoughts of her being my student enter my mind, but the demons deep within chase them away immediately.

  “Damn, you’re so tight.”

  “Houston, I’m going to come.”

  “That’s right, baby. Come on my cock.”

  My own orgasm isn’t far away, and I want to hold off a bit longer. I don’t ever want to stop fucking this girl. Visions of her, tempting and teasing me every day in class, fire off in my mind as I slam inside her, nice and deep.

  Her body trembles as the first signs of her orgasm shakes her. Through hooded eyes, I lean back a bit to catch the curve of her lip as she moans. Her back arches off the bed, and her nails dig so deep into my back, I know she left marks.

  “Fuck, yeah.” I need it, my own personal vice to take away the pain of the past two years.

  “Houston, Oh God,” she wails, her eyes squeezing tight.

  “That’s right, baby, come all over me.”

  The moment her tight little pussy clamps down around me, my own release shoots from me. I can’t control it. Can’t contain it any longer. Her orgasm causes my own to explode from me.

  When we both crash down together, we lie in bed. She wraps her arms around me, and my mind fills with the darkness that resides there.

  She hums a little sigh of satisfaction, and I try to relax. I kiss her head and then roll away to clean up.

  When I enter back into the bedroom, she’s fast asleep. I watch her for a long while, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Leaning against the doorframe, I cross my arms and wish I could give her what she deserves.

  A happy life. A man who can make her happy. That’s not me.

  15

  Marley

  Heuristic-adj-enabling a person to discover or learn something for themselves.

  The empty spot in my bed doesn’t surprise me when I wake up and stretch my sore body. This is what no strings means. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that Houston and I would have sex. Alright, maybe in my wildest dreams, but nothing I thought would actually happen. It was by far the most amazing sex I ever had. The way my body reacted to his touch, needy and greedy. The way he moved with such practice and knowledge. It was clear not only did he know what he was doing, but what he wanted. And he wanted me. And damn, it was fucking hot.

  After we had sex, my body felt more relaxed than I could remember, and I fell asleep. I don’t know how long Houston stayed, but with school this morning, I’m not shocked to see him missing.

  School. I jolt up, in a panic. “Oh fuck,” I whisper to myself. With everything that happened last night, I didn’t finish my Anatomy assignment.

  After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, and yes, spending a bit more time than normal on my hair and makeup, I decide the truth is best with Houston about why I didn’t finish—I was fucking him. And it’s not like this is an ordinary occurrence with me; I’m very studious.

  For the first time, I’m actually excited to get to Houston’s class.

 
; When I arrive at the Anatomy building, I rush into the classroom, hoping I’m the first so I can tell Houston without other ears around why I didn’t get my assignment done. What a relief the classroom is empty when I enter. Houston’s back is to me as he writes on the dry erase board. My nails scraped down that muscular back last night. I’m realizing Houston likes a bit of dark in his sex, and I was a little shocked at how much I like it too.

  “Good morning, Houston,” I say with a smile.

  He spins around, looking me up and down, before crossing his arms. Not really the reaction I expected. But, when does he ever give me what I expect.

  I close the distance between us. “I wasn’t able to get my assignment done last night, but I’ll have it to you first thing tomorrow.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “Don’t bother, it’s an F.”

  Seconds tick by as I let his comment sink in. “What? Obviously, you know why I didn’t get it done, Houston,” I tell him in disbelief.

  “Professor Dale,” he reminds me. “I don’t know why you didn’t do it, Miss Murphy, and I honestly don’t give a shit. Take your seat,” he commands before looking down at the papers on his desk.

  Screw the fact he’s now my ‘no strings’ lover or that’s he’s sexy or any of that. “I can not get an F,” I state.

  He looks up at me, and I see a flash of something in his eyes that disappears quickly. “Are you telling me what grade you get, Miss Murphy?”

  We are in the battle of all stares. “I’m telling you, due to unforeseen circumstances, my assignment wasn’t completed. And I can not get an F.”

  He nods. “Yes, you’re telling me.” He cocks a brow at me, driving his point home. “You need to understand, you get no special treatment inside this classroom. Why don’t you reword your request before I spank your pretty ass?”

  Well he should’ve said that in the first place. “Professor Dale, would you be so kind as to allow me to give you my assignment tomorrow?” He smiles. Sort of. It’s just enough to make my heart slam against the cage holding it back.

  “Good girl,” he says. The door opens, and our moment dissipates. “Take your seat.”

  After I settle in my seat, my phone vibrates. I fish it out of my bag and read the text.

  I think I’ll spank you anyways tonight.

  The past few weeks have been exciting and fun. You heard me right, fun. Being with Houston relieves all the stress built from medical school.

  During spring break, we spent most nights having wild sex by the moonlight. Now, being back to school, my mind is still on that break mentality.

  I need more Houston. This no-strings thing has really been a godsend, but there have been moments where I catch a glimpse of something from him. A caress after his orgasm, a look of longing during mine. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part. Shh, I promise I’m not developing feelings for the man.

  Sitting in the library, I go over my patient notes in a quiet corner. Papers line my table, and I highlight questions for a patient study I’m working on.

  The chair next to me slides across the wood floor, and I look up as Houston takes a seat.

  “What are you doing here?” I whisper. I’ve become hyper paranoid that our secret relationship is obvious. Realistically, I know it’s not. We don’t fuckernize in public.

  “Saw you sitting here,” he says, leaning in to look at my papers, “so, I thought I’d see how you’re getting along with the assignment I handed out.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, you could have picked something easier. But, I think I’m almost done.”

  A few eyes glance to us, but no alarming stares are cast our way. I am his assistant, after all, and we aren’t doing anything wrong.

  Houston leans back in his seat, a smile on his face. “Let me have ‘em.”

  I tilt my head. “What? My patient questions?”

  He gave us all a project to complete: design a comprehensive case study of a patient, and ask the patient questions to successfully diagnose. After spending my whole day in the library, my eyes are ready to turn cross-eyed.

  I smile, leaning over to whisper. “You really want me to ask you my questions?”

  “Sure, I’ll be patient X. Ask away.” He sits up, leaning closer to me. His voice is louder than a whisper, and my instinct is to shush him.

  “Shhh. Okay, I’ll ask you.”

  He cocks a brow. “Did you just shush me, again? You know how I feel about that, Miss Murphy.”

  I tap my textbook with the tip of my pen. “Yes, I know, but you really need a lesson in library etiquette.” Amusement crosses his face. “This is a whisper,” I tell him, lowering my voice. “This is not,” I say, my voice rising. A grin lights up his face. “Ok, ready?”

  He leans forward, getting closer to me than he should in public. “Ready,” he whispers.

  It sends shivers up my spine, and I shake them off as I grab the papers in front of me. “Question one: State your full name and date of birth.”

  “Skip those questions. Get to the good stuff.”

  He’s back to not whispering, and I glance around the library, but no one is really taking much notice of us tucked away back here.

  I blow out a breath. Reading the first question, my eyes go wide. I can’t ask him this. Fuck. “Um, do you have difficulty urinating?” My face heats bright red, I just know it. I can’t even look him in the eyes.

  He laughs, and the rich sound is something special. “No.”

  Focusing back on the pages in my hand, I clear my throat. Oh, my God, who wrote these questions. Oh, right I did. I should have really thought through them better. “Are you sexually active?”

  He smiles again. Speaking in a low voice, he says, “Yes, but only recently.”

  I clear my throat. My cheeks are on fire. “Do you have any difficulty,” fuck, how could I have written out these questions, “getting your penis to…um…”

  He cuts in, “Yes, Miss Murphy? Do I have any difficulty getting my dick to…” He’s mocking me.

  My mind goes blank. My eyes can’t even focus on the page in front of me. “Boner,” I blurt out.

  He laughs, then shushes me. “Oh Marley, you’re going to pay for that one.”

  “Erection was the word I meant, not boner.” This interview is a disaster. “I’m sorry, Professor.”

  He reaches his hand across the tiny table, and brushes my arm. “It’s fine. Any more questions?”

  I feel defeated. “No.” How can I read him anymore of these dreadful things.

  “Diagnosis?” he asks.

  I smile. “Horny?”

  “Very. How would you go about treating that?”

  I lean closer, running the tip of my pencil along his arm. “I can show you tonight.”

  He growls, low and deep. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Releasing a breath, I smile. “Ok, I like that.”

  “Hi, Doctor Dale,” a student says as he walks by our table.

  Houston straightens his posture and pushes his chair back. “Very well, Miss Murphy. Carry on.” He winks to me as he walks away. Trying to push away the embarrassment, I continue on with my studies well into the night. I’ve not forgotten my lesson about no special treatment. And I would never expect any.

  Hours later, I’m awakened, my face lying in a pile of papers, by someone touching my arm.

  “Marley. Marley.” Houston’s voice sounds far away as he tries to get me to sit up. He packs my things into my bag while I stand and stretch. It’s late, and the library’s empty as he ushers me through the front door.

  “I can’t believe I fell asleep.” I’m tired, groggy, as he leads me to a waiting Uber. He opens the door, and I slide into the back seat.

  He walks around to the other side and nestles in next to me. “Here,” he says, spreading his arm across the back of the seat. I lean my head against his solid chest and close my eyes.

  “Marley?” Houston lifts me from the car, into his strong arms. He carries me into my building
and into the elevator. I’m so exhausted I can barely register what’s going on. Since Houston and I made our agreement, my already full days and nights are bursting at the seams. Sleep is all I had left to sacrifice.

  He stands me by my door, and I lean my head on the cool concrete of the wall. He fishes out my keys, opening the lock and helps me inside.

  We’ve been together intimately a few times over the past weeks, but having him bring me to bed is something new. I almost want to ask him to stay. But, I won’t do that.

  He helps me into bed, kissing the top of my head after he pulls my shoes off. “Good night, Marley. Sleep well.”

  16

  Houston

  April 10th

  No strings is supposed to be easy. No strings. No feelings. Right? Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to work? So, why am I feeling this way?

  My days are an endless onslaught of errands and menial busywork, leading me back to the one place I want to be. In the evening, I knock on Marley’s door.

  Her breath catches as she steps aside, letting me in. Her body calls to me, and I want to obey. I want to touch her in ways I never have before. I need this release.

  My pent-up emotions directly correlate to my body’s need for an orgasm.

  It’s as if my mind and dick are at war with one another. The pleasure I seek from her should be just that…pleasure. Nothing more.

  She’s pure and wholesome. And, there’s nothing I want more than to corrupt her, bend her to my will, and tutor her in the craft of satisfying me.

  I grab the back of her neck, my fingers digging into the base of her scalp as I claim her lips. She melts into me. Soft, sweet skin heats up under my coarse fingertips.

  Her shirt is over her head as soon as I break the kiss.

  “Houston, wait,” she moans, pushing me back against the wall.

  “Shh. Don’t speak,” I instruct her. I teach her.

  Our bodies move together to her bedroom. The curtains sway, leaking soft moonlight in. It fills the room, highlighting Marley’s body. The soft curves turn me on. Her striking green eyes, gazing at me like I’m the only man on Earth, make my heart heavy.

  I’m one step closer, one moment nearer to feeling everything. I push her back, and she falls to the bed under my touch. “Remove your clothes,” I whisper.