The more it happens, the more my insides flare with heat. It’s a demanding ache that starts in my chest as a flicker of nerves and travels lower until it’s a burning desire for so much more. He scans my body, and to the casual observer, it’s a clinical assessment. Just a professor observing art in progress. To me, though, this is foreplay. Annie may have been right, but I find that I don’t really mind.
He’s teasing me with his constant looks. And that hint of a smile teasing his thick, firm lips? He slays me. I can’t stop the memories of him looking at me like that when he was inside of me.
It’s impossible to miss the desire in his eyes, just as it’s impossible to deny the mounting need in my belly as he moves beyond my peripheral vision. Unable to see him, my breathing grows deeper, heavier, and I have to double my efforts to concentrate on maintaining my pose.
“She’s doing very well,” Mrs. Jackson comments, and my ears perk up.
“I can see that.” Ransom’s voice is soft and husky. Unobtrusive in the otherwise quiet room, but like a pin drop, I hear every word.
“If only all of my models were as poised as this one. I’m tempted to bribe her into dropping your class and joining mine.” There’s a teasing lilt to Mrs. Jackson’s voice, but I suspect she’s partially serious.
“The semester ends in two weeks, Celeste. You’re free to scoop up whoever you want then.”
“Indeed I will.”
“Do you mind if I sit in on the rest of the class? I’d love to see the finished products.”
“Absolutely,” Mrs. Jackson says wholeheartedly. “You can have my chair if you’d like.”
I want so badly to turn and look at him. I can feel Ransom’s eyes on me, staring at the slope of my back, the curve of my butt. The place between my thighs that begs for his attention.
When Mrs. Jackson calls for the final round of sketches to begin, I stand on unsteady legs and try not to focus too much on the moisture pooled between my legs. A fact that becomes impossible to ignore when she draws up a chair and tells me to straddle it.
I’m facing Ransom this time, unable to escape from that penetrating gaze. With as much brazenness as I can muster, I ease down onto the hard wood and prop my arms on the back of the chair, folding them one over the other. The air touches my exposed clit, and with my thighs split open, I am painfully aware of how aroused I am.
Mrs. Jackson artfully arranges my hair over my shoulders, so it cascades down my back, and then she gives me a perfunctory nod, pleased with her work, and disappears to resume her walk around the room.
I am out of my element. Ransom’s eyes study mine, his dark gaze narrowed slightly as if he recognizes this about me. I refuse to look away first. Confidence, that’s the image I want to project. I’m also hoping that my actions will inform him that this thing between us isn’t over. If there were any hope of ending things between us, it ended the moment he walked through that door.
As his eyes drop lower, lingering on my breasts, which have firmed in the air-conditioned room, I don’t think that will be a problem. Ransom doesn’t appear to have given up either. As his gaze lands at the gap created by the chair between my legs, I see his nostrils flare and his lips part and something inside me just…snaps.
Between one breath and the next, I have decided that I won’t be leaving here tonight alone. I made a mistake when I sent him away, and now I fully intend to rectify the situation.
Despite the cool air skating down my spine from overhead, beads of perspiration form around my hairline and under my arms, making me feel damp all over. By the time the class ends and the robe is returned to me, my mouth feels like I’ve stuffed it with cotton balls. It doesn’t matter that I downed an entire bottle of water before coming in here. I’m dehydrated, and it’s all Ransom’s fault.
He makes me crazy. Needy. Desperate.
I’m directed back to the teacher’s lounge, where I change back into my street clothes. When I return the robe to Mrs. Jackson, Ransom is nowhere to be seen.
My shoulders drop and my mood deflates. I can’t deny that I am disappointed by this. I had plans. Plans that involved signaling him to meet me outside. Where the dark sky would provide the perfect backdrop for our reunion. Was I confident that I would win him back? Not even remotely, but sometimes a girl has to lie to herself to find the courage she needs to press forward.
“You did great tonight,” Mrs. Jackson praises as she signs my form and hands it back. Her golden eyes twinkle as she looks up at me from behind her desk. “How did you enjoy the experience?”
I feel my cheeks heat as I think about just how much I enjoyed it once Ransom walked in. “It was different. Once I relaxed, it wasn’t too bad.”
“Good, then I hope you’ll consider coming back. I could always use a few more willing victims.”
I shake her hand, not giving her a response, and she wishes me a good evening. Despite the disappointment I feel, I walk out of the building with my head held high. Tonight I feel like I’ve overcome something. I don’t know what it is, but I feel good, and I’m glad that I chose to see it through.
The path I take is winding and framed by arching utility lights which create a swath of salmon colored light that’s a little hard on the eyes. Because it’s after dark, and I am alone but for a few people off in the distance, the campus takes on an eerie atmosphere. I can almost imagine a serial killer lurking in the shadows.
Kicking up my pace, I hurry to reach the nearly vacant parking lot. My car is one of a handful left, and as I notice the figure standing in wait, my heart skips a beat and my steps falter.
Until I realize who it is.
My heart skips before redoubling its effort and my blood quickens, pounding in my ears as I close the distance between us. When he hears my footsteps approaching, his dark head lifts and he steps into the light.
“Ransom.” My voice is breathy, relieved and excited and so many things I can’t begin to name, and as he meets me halfway and I leap into his waiting arms, into his fervent kiss, everything seems to click into place.
This is where I want to be. Where I should have been all along. None of the problems that faced us are gone, yet they cease to matter anymore. I wrap my arms and legs around his sturdy frame and kiss him with abandon. There is no care for the world around us. At this moment, only the two of us exist.
“You taste so good,” Ransom says against my mouth. His hands cup my butt, squeezing the soft globes and pressing me against his erection.
I lick his lips, wanting to taste him everywhere. There is no time to think, only act, and as I am the one driving this train, I issue the directions. “Keys. In my purse.” That’s all the information I give him, but being the intelligent man he is, Ransom doesn’t need anything more.
In a matter of moments, he has the door open and is shoving our entwined bodies into the spacious backseat of my Camry. My hands dive between our heaving bodies and begin working on his belt as he grasps both halves of my collared polo. With a vicious yank, the fabric tears easily from collar to belly button.
I look at him with what I imagine to be a mix of horror, anger, and lust. The latter emotion wins out. “That’s just about the hottest thing I have ever witnessed.”
He grins, and in the dark, it makes him look sinister. I like it. No, scratch that. I fucking love that.
My hands can’t move fast enough. Once his belt is undone, I shimmy the loose fabric over his firm ass. His cock springs out, standing like an arrow pointing to home base.
The throbbing between my legs increases and I whimper and arch my back as Ransom licks my nipples through my lacy bra. His hands slip between the stretchy waistband on my pants and guide them over my hips along with my underwear. When the material bunches up at my knees, he doesn’t stop to remove my shoes so he can finish the task.