“Mmm…” she hummed when I rocked my erection against her bottom. “I think that ship has sailed, Reed.” She was being flirty. Jesus, I loved her flirty. I could just picture the naughty glint in her eye, coupled with hushed, breathy moans. God personified sin when he made Auburn.
I turned her in my arms, pressed her to my body, hard planes against soft curves, and thrust my hand into her dark hair, giving it a tug and making my dick jump in my jeans. “Watch them, look at them. You should be with one of them.” I watched the shiver that coursed through her body at my words as we watched a half a dozen people partying around the dancing orange flames.
They collapsed in laughter, and a guy, someone I recognized as the homecoming king Auburn’s senior year of school, called out for her. “Auburn!” he bellowed as the group laughed. He took a long swig of his beer and called again, “Auburn! You’re needed!” The group howled and then closed in once again, on to another topic presumedly.
“Why?” She spun to face me.
“I'm bad for you.” I murmured before kissing the soft flesh where neck met collarbone. “I want to do bad things to you.” I trailed my tongue along her cool skin.
“What if I want you to do bad things to me?” She arched her neck, allowing me more intimate access.
“That's not the right answer.” My hands were working up her body now, caressing the soft curves beneath thin cotton. She succumbed to the physical onslaught and pushed her hands through the threads of my hair.
“I happen to believe being right isn't always the most important thing.”
“Jesus Christ, Auburn. We're playing with fire.” I grunted, my hands clutching and kneading, as the fine gossamer threads that held my control started a slow and methodical unravelling. Her gaze averted and her lips pressed together in a razor thin line. “What are you thinking?”
With those words her dark eyes slammed into mine. “That I want you to fuck me.”
Each word was like an electric charge to my balls. She nearly toppled me. “That’s the last thing I’m going to do.” I growled as my nose dusted the shell of her ear, still teasing, still taunting.
“Why?” She murmured as her fingers clutched at my shoulder blades. I grunted as she squirmed and shifted between me and the fallen tree.
“I want to be sure you’re fucking me, not the teacher you’ve been masturbating to since you were sixteen.” The only audible sound was the ragged inhale she took, as if all the air had deflated from her lungs and she was desperate for more.
Her eyes held mine, sparkling, angry, sexy, dangerous. “You're an asshole.” She shoved me off of her. “How could you ever, ever think I didn’t like you for you?!”
“Keep it down.” My eyes darted to the crowd beyond the trees.
“Fuck you.” She grit.
“I plan to, if you behave,” I snapped.
“You are a moody, arrogant asshole.” She seethed. “You know? You're right. We shouldn’t be doing any of this. Whatever this is could never work.”
“Auburn.” I reached a hand out to comfort her.
“No. I'm already too wrapped up in you.” She shook her head. “I just need to get beyond it.”
“Wait!” I reached for her arm as she brushed by me to leave.
“No.” She spun, her eyes landing on my hand gripping her forearm before she looked up to me. “We connect, we have chemistry, we have something. But that's all it is.” She looked down before taking a step back with a shake of her head. “You and I don't make sense, Reed.”
I swallowed the aching lump in my throat. “What about the class?” I didn't know if I could stand going to class every day and looking at her empty seat, only left to imagine the soft contours of her face and the wavy hair that cascaded over one shoulder while I lectured.
“I…I don’t know. After all of this...” she paused and wiped at one eye with the back of her hand, before spinning and hurrying down the path. In a sudden flip of events, I was left feeling empty. I had no idea what had just happened, but it burned my fucking insides. Just when I was getting used to Auburn in my life, I was left standing bereft and watching her walk away.
six
I went a week without seeing Auburn. I'd sent her an email after she missed the first class, and then the second, without response. Maybe I'd missed the mark. I'd always known Auburn and I couldn't have a future, but maybe we'd ended far sooner than I'd anticipated.
I stepped into the classroom Thursday afternoon hoping beyond hope that she'd be there. I did a double take when I found her seated at her normal desk, part way back and to my right. My chest ached as I watched her chat so casually with the student next to her, her face so relaxed and inviting as she chuckled about something. She was stunning and set my heart on fire like no one ever had, but the relief that had coursed through my veins at seeing that she was here, safe and healthy, was short-lived.