Make Me Bad: Private Lessons (24 page)

I shower and dress and head towards
the train station.  The sun is late to rise, and just a glow hangs over the old
city. Our train leaves at half past seven, and we are supposed to meet at the
gate twenty minutes prior. When I arrive, a handful of students are already
there, including Maddie and Cleo.

Maddie gives me a happy, though
fleeting, smile and she seems to be radiating happiness. She’s dressed in
jeans, with a dark sweater peeking out from her gray coat. Her hair is long and
loose down her back and I can’t help thinking of the contrast of between her
dark hair and milky skin of her back.

Focus.

The others quickly join us, and we
all board the train in high spirits. I sit in the row in front of Maddie, and I
turn around to speak to her occasionally, our conversations focusing on music.
Eventually, the conversation broadens and the others get involved, and we begin
to plan what we all want to do in the city.

Everyone definitely wants to
sightsee and a few people have some specific destinations they want to visit so
some of us will break off. It isn’t long before we arrive in London, and we
head straight down to Big Ben, Parliament, the London Eye and Tower Bridge. The
mood is light and joyful, despite the cold, and I can’t hope everything will
turn out fine in the end.

I end up sitting next to Maddie on
the tube as we head away from downtown London and north towards Covent Garden
and Piccadilly Circus.

“Having fun?” I ask.

She nods.

“Me too.”

She’s quiet for a moment and then
she looks over at me. “Want to write a piece of music together?”

The question catches me off guard.

“Sure,” I say slowly. “Did you just
get the idea?”

“No. I’ve actually been thinking
about it for a week or so, but I wasn’t sure how you would respond. I have this
one melody bouncing around in my head, and I think it could work really well, but
I wanted your input and I thought that maybe we could write it together.” She
looks hopefully at me.

Is she crazy? Not only is she extremely
talented, I love spending time with her. I can think of nothing else more
appealing than composing a piece of music with Maddie. It’s a win-win
situation.

“Let’s start this week,” I suggest.

She smiles, her blue eyes lighting
up. “Perfect.”

Unfortunately, the semester begins
to wrap up and with the all of the end-of-semester advisor duties, I don’t have
as many opportunities to see Maddie during the week, as I would like. I see her
for class on Tuesday, and we have our private lesson, but I’m too wrapped up in
work to see her again until Friday night.

On Friday I take her to a small
bistro in Montmartre, one that is hidden from tourists but frequented by
locals. It is one of the only places where I remember dining with my mother. I
decide not to tell this to Maddie. I don’t want to make the mood melancholy.

“This place is amazing,” she gushes
as we sit at our small, candlelit table.

“It’s one of the few places that I
remember from when I used to visit. I love how tourists rarely find it.”

Our waiter approaches, and I speak
to him in rapid French, ordering us a bottle of wine and some appetizers.

“I’ve missed you this week,” she
says forlornly.

I reach out and take her hand. It’s
a relief to not have to hide right now. “I missed you too. I’m sorry I was so
busy. I didn’t realize how much work I would have to complete with the semester
drawing to an end. I knew I would have grades to submit, but I wasn’t counting
on the other stuff.”

“I understand. I know I can’t have
all your time,” she teases.

“I’m sure you’ve had fun with
Cleo,” I point out.

“I have, but she’s also trying to
get the most of her remaining time with Philippe.”

“Ah yes, her
lover.
”

“Mmhmm,” Maddie murmurs, dropping
her eyes.

Suddenly, my desire for her is so
strong it catches me off guard. I want Maddie in a carnal way. “Maddie,” I say
in a husky voice, “tell me you’re going to come back home with me tonight.”

Her eyes widen as if she’s
surprised that I asked such a question.

“Of course.” She pauses. “I’ve been
thinking about it all day.”

I still find it strange that Maddie
thinks about me all day. What can I possibly offer her? But I’ve told myself to
stop asking such stupid questions. I’m no longer going to wrestle with the idea
that she wants to be with me.

“What will you do for Christmas?”
she suddenly asks me, her eyes full of concern.

It takes a moment for my mind to
switch gears. Then I shrug. “Probably the same thing that I usually do.”

She waits. “Which is?” she prods
when I don’t respond.

“Hang by myself, or meet up with
some other family-less friends in the city.” I give her a rueful smile, trying
to lighten the mood. It sounds depressing when I say it out loud.

“You – you won’t see any family?”

“No. I don’t really have any
family. And the people who were like a family to me live in San Diego. I’ve
lost touch with all of my relatives over here.”

She looks sad at the thought.

“Don’t be sad for me,” I tell her,
“I have plenty of friends in the city who don’t have family nearby or can’t
afford to travel.” I laugh. “Some prefer to stay away from their family during
the holidays. We usually have a get together or two. It’s not lonely, I
promise.”

She sticks out her lower lip; a
gesture both childish and sexy. “It sounds lonely,” she pouts.

“I assure you, it’s not.”

“So, tell me then. What kind of
things have you done in the past?”

“Sometimes on Christmas Eve a few
of us have gotten together and played music at someone’s house or somewhere in
the city. The best night we played in one of the subway stations.”

Maddie smiles. “I bet people loved
that.”

“They did. It was wonderful. Other
times, people have hosted Christmas Eve parties. Once, we even made a Christmas
Eve drinking game. We found
It’s a Wonderful Life
playing on TV all
night and had to take a shot every time someone said the name
George.
”

Maddie laughs out loud.

“See? I told you. Not depressing at
all. I’ve gone to midnight mass on Christmas Eve. One time it snowed and some
friends and I went to Central Park and had a snowball fight.”

“So who are these friends of
yours?” she asks, and I can tell she’s genuinely curious. That’s the thing
about our relationship in Paris. We’re removed from our real lives and our
normal day-to-day routines. I don’t know much about her New York life and she
knows next to nothing about mine.

“Just other artists that I’ve met
along the way: some musicians, a few friends from my early years in New York.
We’re a bit of a Motley Crew.”

We finish our appetizers, and our
main course arrives. We eat our food slowly, savoring the evening.

“Alright, so you’ve told me about
Christmas Eve, now tell me about Christmas.”

I roll my eyes teasingly.
“Sometimes, I’ve been asked to play music. I’ve been invited over to the homes
of my friends’ families. I’ve eaten Chinese food and gone to the movies with my
Jewish friends. It’s a new adventure every year.”

“And this year?”

“Nothing planned yet. I guess when
I get back to the city, I’ll find out what people are doing.”

I think back to the years I had to
spend the holidays with Vera’s family. The sad thing is, I had enjoyed Vera’s
family more than I had enjoyed Vera. Those holidays felt like the holidays that
people were meant to have – houses bustling with noisy people, delicious aromas
wafting through the air, children laughing and fighting over new presents. It was
like the movies.

Vera hated it.

She hated how happy everyone was,
how
normal
everything felt. She always wanted a heated argument to take
place between family members. She dreamed of someone coming out and admitting
they were gay at the dinner table: any kind of drama to take away from the
comforting coziness of it all.

“Tell me about your holidays,” I
say, changing the subject. I imagine they are much like the ones that Vera’s
family celebrated. I always wondered how Vera acquired all her hardness when
she came from such a sweet and loving family.

“You know,” Maddie says, slightly
embarrassed, “They are pretty cookie-cutter. Everyone gets together and bakes
and cooks and there is way too much delicious food. It’s loud and boisterous.
Someone usually gets too drunk. And the gatherings last forever. They start a
day or two before Christmas, and then there is just party after party. All the
way up until New Year’s usually.” She’s quiet for a moment, chewing her dinner.
“You think it would be exhausting, but it’s not. It’s pretty great.” She
smiles. “Sound stupid?”

I shake my head. “Sounds
wonderful.”

“Part of the reason there are so
many parties is because two of my grandparents remarried when I was really
little. And then my parents have become friends with some pretty big Nashville
people, so usually we get invited to a really great party or two that way.”

“Will you head home once we get
back to New York?”

“Yep. I fly out to Nashville the
next day. Just enough time to pack a new bag.” She laughs.

I try to picture Maddie at home in
Nashville. She has just the slightest hint of a twang, and only when she talks
very quickly. I imagine it comes out more at home. I can see her blending right
in, laughing and having a good time with everyone.

The conversation makes its way back
to music before we wrap up dinner and start to head back to my apartment.

“Gosh, it’s cold!” Maddie gasps,
pulling her coat tightly around her. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling
her close. “Mmmm,” she sighs, burying her face into my chest.

I can hardly contain my desire for
her, and once we’re back in my apartment, I have to stop myself from pouncing
on her. She smiles coyly at me as she unbuttons her jacket and drapes it across
my couch.

“Not going to push me up against
the door?” she teases.

“Don’t tempt me,” I growl. “I’ve
been trying to control myself all evening.”

Then she winks at me and crosses
the room over to where I’m standing. She gives me a light shove, and stunned, I
fall back onto the couch.

That is her intention.

She saunters into the middle of the
room and gives me a devilish look.

Then very slowly she begins to
unbutton her silky black blouse.

Holy shit.

Madison is doing a strip tease.

I cough and squirm on the couch. My
dick has just risen to the occasion, and it’s pressing against my pants,
begging for release.

“Maddie,” I groan.

But she looks at me through her
eyelashes and brings one finger to her mouth to silence me.

At last her shirt is unbuttoned,
and she teases it open before letting the material slide off her arms and then
fall to a puddle on the ground. She’s wearing a plunging black lace bra with
red trim.

If she’s self-conscious she doesn’t
show it as she runs her hands over her breasts and across her taut stomach,
closing her eyes in pleasure.

Holy fuck. I can’t even believe I’m
watching this.

But I am not complaining.

Her hands slide down to her black
skirt, and she turns away from me. I watch her hands move to the back of the
skirt, and slowly drag the zipper down along its teeth. The skirt opens, revealing
a peek of skin against her lacy thong.

She grins and turns back around,
sliding the skirt over her thighs and letting it fall to the ground with a
gentle
whoosh.
 She smiles knowingly and steps out of the skirt before
kicking it off to the side of the room.

Maddie stands before me in just her
bra, panties and black boots. For a moment she looks unsure, as if she’s
suddenly lost her courage, but the look quickly vanishes and she moves towards
me.

She straddles my lap and I groan, my
hands gravitating to her thighs, running up and down her silky skin.

“What do you want?” she breathes in
my ear, gently gyrating on me. “Want me to take off more?”

I groan again. I love Maddie naked,
but there’s something incredibly sexy about her being dressed in only her
undergarments and boots.

Instead of responding, I wrap my
hands around her midsection and then up to the back of her bra before popping
it open.

She lets out a small gasp of
pleasure, and I pull her bra over her arms, releasing her heavy breasts. Her nipples
are already pink with arousal, and I waste no time squeezing them between my
hands and taking them into my mouth.

I moan with my own pleasure as I
taste her, and she pulses harder against my body, unable to hide her own need
for me.

“Stay like this,” I instruct her
and she cries out quietly as I gently bite down on one of her nipples.