Page 25 of Folds
I want to fuck you.
No, I can’t say that, but I didn’t think this far ahead. I never think far enough ahead. Not when planning out an art piece or my future, and certainly not how to seduce my teacher…ex-teacher. I don’t know how I’m going to do this.
“Stop biting your nails,” Professor Kane interrupts my careening thoughts.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was.” My body relaxes just the tiniest bit at her command, and I release my hand back to my side.
Still I can’t answer her question; I don’t have a good enough response. Instead, I shift my weight from foot to foot.
“You’re making me nervous, Ms. Anderston—Lucy” she says, placing the long pointer on the desk behind her. "Don't just stand there in the doorway. If it’ll help, you can sit down, and then tell me why you’re here.”
Movement is easier when she demands it. Hands straight at my sides to keep from playing with the hem of my skirt or biting my nails, I walk down the stairs. Front row, center, I sit down with not one single idea of how to get my teacher to fuck me.
“Now speak, Lucy.”
There isn’t enough room to cross my legs, and I have to sit with my knees apart, short skirt riding up. I’m not sure what to do with my hands. I still don’t have a plan.
“Lucy!” Professor Kane practically barks out my name.
“I don’t know what to do next year,” I stammer, unsure of what I’m saying, but I keep talking. “I have these two opportunities, both good. One is an artist in residence position that would let me get to work right away, the other this really amazing painting program where I could learn from masters and really focus on honing my style. I mean, I jump around so much… Maybe that makes sense, but maybe just doing it makes more sense. I don’t know… I…I thought you might be able to help.”
“You came to ask for career advice?” Her frown returns, stronger and deeper than ever, her arms tightening under her chest and straining the fabric over her cleavage.
If I really pissed her off, would the button pop? Focus!
“Um…yes. I thought you’d be the right person to ask.” It’s true. I have no idea what I’m going to do in the next couple months, or even tomorrow, but I’m not here for that.
“You are an artist, and I’m a historian. What advice do you expect from me?” Suspicion deepens her already husky voice, the shirt pulling tighter…
“Well,ah…” Clasping my hands on the desk in front of me, I nervously jiggle my legs, my knees swaying back and forth.
How do I tell her I’ve been obsessed with her from the moment I stepped into her class?
How do I tell her I’ve memorized every inch of the strong, soft curve of her neck, and I know where all the freckles are?
I barely passed her class to begin with. Why the hell did I think I could pull this off?
I’d been hopped up on the success of graduating. I’d gotten cocky, and now, I can’t back it up.
Professor Kane’s gaze drops to my knees. Immediately, my shaking legs still under her attention. Red flashes in her dark brown eyes as she stares between my thighs.
Look at me. Please. It’s all for you.I want to beg. Slowly, I inch my feet even further apart.
She presses her fingertips to her temples. Her nails are longer and sharper than I ever remember seeing them. They divot her lightly tanned white skin, and a few more curls fall loose as she shakes her head.
Staring at her mouth, her lips part, and her teeth glisten in the moonlight, her canines long and pointed.
“Never mind, Ms. Anderson,” she huffs, the muscles in her forearms impossibly tensed beneath her shirt sleeves. “Stand up.”
I jump to stand, but the desk is small, and my ass is big. I move slower than I want, my skirt stuck on the arm of the chair.
“Gods almighty, just go stand in the corner until I think of what to do with you,” she commands, exasperated.
Her demand might not be a serious one, but I’ve never been so happy to obey. Following her gaze, I hurry to the front corner of the room, the one closest to the large windows. Butt against the wall, I face her.
She’s pacing now, long nails casually brushing over the pointer stick as she moves back and forth in front of her desk.
Please grab it again. Please!
