Lost in Light (5 page)

Quickly stuffing my textbook and notebook into my bag I rose to my feet on shaky legs, and made my way unsteadily down the stairs.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look rather flushed,” he said, his voice full of concern though his eyes blazed with heat and dark hunger, making my center spasm with almost painful need. “I hope you’re not getting sick.”

“No, I’m fine. It’s, err… rather hot up there. I think I was right under a vent,” I lied as I practically ran from the room.

I was halfway down the hall when I realized that I had left my sweater draped over the back of the chair. I floundered for a moment in the quiet hallway, torn between my embarrassment and the need for my cardigan. A rumble of thunder overhead accompanied by a brilliant flash of lightning a few seconds later made my decision easy, but no less frustrating.

Hanging my head guiltily and heaving a sigh of irritation I spun on my heel, walking reluctantly back towards the lecture hall. The lights in the room had been dimmed, and for a moment I thought that perhaps fate had decided to smile on me after all, and I would be able to duck into the room, retrieve my sweater, and run away like the frightened little mouse that I was.

Looking up into the rows of seats I was confused when I didn’t see my sweater. Figuring that it had probably slipped off of the back of my chair I trudged up the stairs and began peering under and behind the seats. A soft cough from the doorway brought a fresh surge of heat to my face as I realized that I wasn’t alone after all, and that in my current position of looking under my seat I was effectively sticking my butt up in the air.

“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath as I bolted upright, smacking my head on the edge of the chair in the process. Rubbing the throbbing spot on my forehead I turned to look down at the room’s other occupant.

Professor Davis. Of course
, I thought sullenly as I ducked my head and smiled sheepishly.

“Did you forget something, Miss Parker?”

“I thought I had left my sweater behind, but I can’t find it.”

“I have it here. I assumed that its owner would come looking for it, or ask after it next week,” he said holding up the offending garment. If I never saw the damn thing again it would be too soon.

“It’s raining,” I said lamely. I remained standing beside my seat, unwilling to close the distance between us. I was sure that he would smell the arousal on me and somehow know that I had spent the majority of class fantasizing about him touching me.

What was happening to me? I’d always thought he was hot, had even fantasized about him once or twice in passing, but never anything as graphic or arousing as the thoughts that had been consuming me for the past few days.

“Was there something else?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement as he arched that damned eyebrow at me again, my pulse jumping into my throat just at the sight of it.

“No, I just came to get my sweater,” I prattled inanely, finally finding the power to move my feet, albeit a bit unsteadily. I walked down to the front of the room where he was holding out my cardigan in offering. Reaching to snatch it from his grasp I was barely able to hold back my plea for mercy from the gods when I realized that he was holding it up for me to slip my arms into the sleeves.

“Allow me,” he said in a voice that was as dark and rich as my favorite bittersweet chocolate.

Dropping my bag and purse at my feet I reluctantly turned around and put my arms through the sleeves. His fingers brushed along my shoulders making my skin tingle, while a shiver raced down my spine. I almost choked on my gasp at the touch of his hands on my hair as he pulled it out from under my collar and resettled it around my shoulders. Spinning to face him I found him to be the picture of innocence except for the devious glint in his eye. I would swear that he was toying with me, teasing me. But why would he? Unless...

“I hope you don’t get too wet,” he said in the same smooth voice he had used throughout the lecture.

“W-what?” I stammered, scandalized and humiliated by his words.

Oh God, he knows!

“In the rain. I hope you don’t get too wet walking to your car.”

Although he maintained his air of innocent concern, the smirk curving his lips gave away his true intentions. But what could I do? Tell him to stop flirting with me? Ask him to stop invading my fantasies? Beg him to touch me, and ease the fire burning in my body? Startled by my thoughts I muttered my thanks while mentally scolding myself for my sudden inability to control my hormones.

The cool air was a welcome distraction from my overheated thoughts when I paused in the doorway to watch the rain pounding the concrete outside, the rushing sound of the water helping to calm my frayed nerves. Inhaling deeply I drew the fresh, clean scent of the rain into my lungs, enjoying the purity of it.

“You’d better make a run for it, I don’t think it’s going to let up any time soon,” Professor Davis said from beside me, his sudden appearance causing my heart to thump in my chest, erasing what little calm I had managed to win back. He had donned a light leather jacket over his blue buttoned shirt. A grey scarf wrapped loosely around his neck and a brown leather messenger bag was slung over his shoulder. Fumbling in my purse for my keys I took one last look at him standing beside me, his eyes fixed on the rain, reflecting the calm fascination I had felt moments ago.

“See you next week, Professor.”

“Goodnight, Miss Parker.”

Darting out into the rain I couldn’t hold back the shriek that bubbled over my lips as the rain soaked me almost instantly. Glancing back at him I saw his wide smile and sparkling eyes, my shriek turning to laughter as I dashed through the rain to my Jeep. Opening the door I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and climbed up into the old Wrangler, quickly starting the engine and turning the heater on full blast while pushing my wet hair back from my face. Looking up through the windshield I could see the rain-sodden shape of Professor Davis darting towards his own car, a sleek, black two-door that chirped as he approached.

***

Liam and Patrick were entwined on the couch watching reruns of Friends when I got home. Shivering and soaked through to the skin, I undoubtedly looked like a water-logged Irish Setter. Kicking the door shut behind me I dropped my keys in the dish on the counter and shuffled through the living room, giving the boys a lackluster wave on my way through.

“You okay, Rache?” Liam called after me, his head popping up over the back of the couch like a prairie dog.

“I’m fine. Just want to take a long hot shower.”

Dropping my backpack and purse off in my bedroom I paused beside my bed to scratch Ansel behind the ears, earning a low and rumbling purr of bliss.

“Hey buddy,” I crooned, smiling as he arched up into my touch. “How was your day? A lot less confusing than mine I bet.”

My fingers moved absently over his soft fur and silken ears as I reflected on the day, a swelling of mortification, and something far more primal and hungry, growing in my gut. I couldn’t believe that I had been daydreaming in class, and was almost caught doing it.

Be honest with yourself, Rache,
that
wasn’t daydreaming, that was fantasizing! There’s no sugarcoating the things you were imaging him doing to you
.

Roused from my traitorous thoughts by the patter of water dripping from my hair onto the carpet, I left Ansel purring contentedly on the bed and gathered up my fleece pajama bottoms and a cozy t-shirt.

The shower warmed up quickly and I gladly shrugged off my wet clothes and stepped into the hot spray, sucking in a sharp breath of both pleasure and pain as the water sluiced over me, chasing away the cold that prickled my skin. Standing directly under the spray I let my head fall back, delighting in the heat as it slowly soaked in, seeming to warm me all the way down to my bones. The steady drumming of the water on my scalp reminded me of the hum of the rain and the man who had stood beside me watching it fall, and I was struck by how powerfully he had been affecting me since he had witnessed the ugliness between Jake and I. My initial reaction was to dismiss it as simple girlish fancy, but I couldn’t help wondering if it was something more.

I’d had crushes before. What girl doesn’t make it through adolescence and into adulthood without developing at least a crush or two?

But this was different from my previous infatuations, he was inspiring sensations and thoughts in me that no one ever had before. The mere thought of him rekindled the heat that had swelled so deep and heavy in my center earlier in the day, the intensity of it making my thoughts swim dizzily.

God, what’s gotten into me?

Jake never made me feel this way. Hell,
no one
has ever made me feel this way! I can’t stop thinking about him and how much I just want him to touch me.

It was as if the last hour hadn’t passed, the mere thought of his touch transported me back to the lecture hall, and the fantasy that had so overwhelmed me.

The vent overhead kicked on, blowing hot air down onto me, making me sweat and stirring up the musky scent of my own arousal. The smooth cadence of his voice filled my ears, soothing my swirling thoughts and rousing my pulse all at the same time. I unbuttoned my blouse with brazen and teasing slowness, baring my breasts to him. His hungry gaze fixed on me with a heat that made me shudder and tighten in places that I didn’t even know existed. Matching his gaze with my own, I licked my lips with deliberate slowness. Plucking my already taunt nipples in tandem I drew a long and low breath over my lips.

In a flash he was at my side, looming over me. One hand gripped the back of my chair while the other slid up the inside of my thigh, pushing my legs apart and moving my skirt aside to grant him an unrestricted view. The cotton was already soaked through with the evidence of my desire; even my thighs were moist and sticky. My orgasm was already within reach and he hadn’t even touched me there yet.

Electricity zinged through my body at the touch of his fingers against my mound through my damp underwear, tracing the contours of my slit before coming to rest against the swollen pearl of my clit. My hips flexed of their own volition, urging him to rub me and deliver the delicious friction I so desperately needed. With a wicked grin curving his mouth and his eyes to shining with mischief, he obligingly rubbed small circles over my clit, the pressure, just this side of painful, making me squirm and pant.

It didn’t take long for his skilled fingers to bring me to point of no return, and before I knew it I was soaring high, my body trembling and shuddering with the ferocity of the climax that swept through me like wildfire. My cries rang out in the empty lecture hall, his heavy breaths a soft accompaniment lapping at the edge of my consciousness.

Reality began to seep back into my thoughts, his heavy breaths replaced by the steady rush of the water and my own labored breathing. The tile was shockingly cool against my skin as I sank back against the wall and waited for my racing pulse to return to normal.

A giggle bubbled uncontrollably out of me before I could clamp my hand over my mouth. I remained leaning against the cold tile, my legs trembling and my breaths finally beginning to slow. Freezing in the sudden silence I listened intently for any sign that Liam and Patrick had heard me, only to exhale in relief several moments later when all I heard coming from the living room was the canned laughter from the TV. Allowing myself to relax and bask in the lingering glow of my orgasm I couldn’t keep the Cheshire cat grin off my face.

If fantasies about him are this good, what would it be like to actually be touched by him?
I wondered as I rinsed off in a daze before switching off the water and stepping out of the tub.

Wrapping my hair up in a towel I began drying off while continuing to wonder what it would be like to have his lips and hands on my body. Gradually I became aware of the fact that my thoughts had shifted from the realm of fantasy to devising a way to make it happen. Could I really be thinking about this? Could I seriously be planning to seduce my teacher?

Staring at my wide-eyed reflection in the foggy mirror I knew without a doubt that it was precisely what I was going to do.

Chapter Five

As I left Penrose Library I paused to bask in the last light of the day, the sun barely visible above the surrounding buildings. Closing my eyes I drew in a deep breath of the early evening air that still held a hint of freshly cut grass.

Exhaling deeply I opened my eyes and looked around. Except for a couple of guys playing Frisbee on the commons in the dwindling light, the only other people in view were a couple walking hand-in-hand out of Nagel Hall, no doubt having just left the cafeteria. I was always surprised by how quickly the campus emptied before a holiday weekend.

Resettling my backpack I jogged across Evans Avenue, cutting in front of the law building as I made my way to my Jeep. I fished out my keys out of my backpack, but then paused as I looked up at the nearby art building, my stomach knotting in sudden apprehension. The proposition I had in mind sounded insane, and maybe it was, but I had to do something before my hormones drove me to do something really crazy.

Although there were lights blazing in the windows of the Shwayder Art Building, it looked otherwise deserted. I wasn’t even sure that Professor Davis would be in his office, but according to the time on my phone he was supposed to be there for another fifteen minutes. Drawing a deep breath and pushing my nervousness aside I dropped my keys back into my bag and headed to the main door.

My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as I made my way towards Professor Davis’s art room. Nearing his room I heard the faint strains of music filtering out into the hallway through the partially open door and I smiled at the soulful sound of Kenny Wayne Shepherd’s “Blue on Black.” Memories of warm summer evenings spent watching my dad and his Blues band practicing in our garage rose in my mind.

The song came to an end, and with it, my trip down memory lane. As the first few notes of Robert Cray’s “Right Next Door” filled the air I pushed the door all the way open and raised my hand to knock before I froze at the sight that greeted me.