Page 54 of Broken Romeo

Five Years Ago…

Even though I kept my eyes focused straight ahead on Professor McCay in class, I could feel Kate’s presence behind me. Though it was quiet, I heard every little sip of hot tea she took from the to-go cup clasped in her hands. And her light, rose-flower scent drifted toward me each time she shifted in her seat.

And fuck my life, I knew what color panties she was wearing every time she rubbed those pretty little thighs together.

It had taken me only an hour and half to find her listing on Craigslist selling her panties. 90 fucking minutes and a location search. Even though the photo she posted didn’t show her face or any distinguishing mark or clothes, I knew it was her.

I could tell from the counter in the shot behind her. The shitty laminate and stainless steel sink behind her was in her particular dorm rooms. The suites that were usually only available to upperclassmen. It was the only picture that I recognized to be on campus.

And hers was the only picture that could have been her body type. It was Katherine. I had no doubt.

And I needed those fucking panties in the picture.

There was a little birthmark on her ass in the picture that had my mouth watering. I wanted to nibble that birthmark. See my teeth marks surrounding it. Smack it and watch the pink palm print fade.

The thought of any other man owning that pair of panties made me nuts. I literally couldn’t think straight all day.

She was asking $50 for the pair. I would have paid $500.

So I created a fake email and made her an offer I hoped she couldn’t refuse. $500 for six pairs of panties.

And she had to email me a picture of her wearing the panty every day.

It took all day, but finally Sunday night, she accepted my offer. And twenty minutes ago, just before class started, the first image hit my inbox.

It literally made me skid to a stop mid-step.

It took the fucking breath from my lungs.

It was that space where innocence and depravity collide and I was so fucking hard from that photo, I could hardly concentrate as Professor McCay waved her copy of Romeo and Juliet in the air.

The picture had been cropped again, but she was sitting here. In this very fucking theater. I could see part of the armrests in her picture.

Literally Kate had snapped that naughty picture of her pretty pink lacy panty moments before the rest of the class came in.

And now I had to sit here for the next two hours, hard as a fucking rock knowing that fact.

I adjusted myself, grateful for the fact that I didn’t go commando today.

Focus Holden, I told myself. Think about the homework. This stupid fucking play about star-crossed lovers that I skimmed through over the weekend.

“By now,” Professor McCay said. “You all should have at least finished an initial read through of what is most likely the most famous love story in history.”

I snorted, shaking my head while bending my own copy of the play in my hands.

“Mr. Dorsey, you seem to have strong feelings that you’re unable to suppress. Care to share with the rest of us?”

I really didn’t feel like making my jaded case to a room full of bleeding-heart actors.

Especially not when I currently had a raging boner for my classmate.

I slouched deeper in my seat and pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head.

“Pass,” I grunted.

The professor scoffed. “You can’t pass. I called on you. Answer the question or get a zero for the day.”

I muttered a curse. The threat of a zero: the one threat I was powerless against. Fuck my life if I had to take another elective course next semester or, God forbid, not graduate on time because some professor had it out for me because I found her playing squeeze the salami in a janitor’s closet.

---