Page 11 of Hot For Teacher
If anyone was a bad spouse, it was me. I married a man to have a place to call home—andto be closer to his son. Our final summer together before I married Stefan was so special to me. Brenden never asked me out or made any moves that made me think it was special to him.
Now I know what a huge mistake I made.
What Brenden said was true. People all knew we wanted to go to prom together. They teased us about it. Teased me about being a popular cheerleader slumming it with the weird drama nerd. None of the teasing bothered me because I had gone crazy for that drama nerd that summer.
If I could go back, I would say yes. I would go to prom with him. How could I ever think he just wanted to get laid? Even if he did, didn’t I want that too? We had never kissed that special summer, but we barely kept our hands off one another.
Now, it is no different. What happened earlier was always waiting to happen. I told the truth about touching myself while thinking of him. I laid in his bed last summer, spread my legs, and got myself off imagining it was him touching me.
“Well nowit willbe him,” I declare as I shoot to my feet.
After we fooled around earlier, I was floating on cloud nine. It was better than I ever thought it could be. His hands on me, his body between my thighs, his mouth. God, what he did with his mouth! I blame the mess he made of me for my bailing like a total airhead when Bobbi showed up.
Going back to the bathroom, I take another shower. The entire joint smells of strawberries by the time I have scrubbed and waxed every inch of my body. It is almost dark by the time I hear him stumble in the front door.
We both blew off classes today to be together. And I almost blew it. It should not matter what anyone, not even Bobbi, thinks of us together. If we want to be together, then we can be together. I always wanted him, and I think he always wanted me.
“Blair?” his voice echoes down the hall, making my heart thud.
Staying silent, I hold my breath. He was right to be upset earlier. I was heinous. Blowing him off after he had blown my mind. Hiding from Bobbi.
I sit in the dark, waiting for him to find me, my heart thumping. Every step closer he takes, another thump. Thump, thump. I just catch my breath and thump, thump.
By the time I see his shadow beneath the door, I am shaking. Doubting myself. Wondering if I am about to make a fool of myself. I don’t move. I barely breathe as his door creaks open.
“Holy God,” his voice trembles just a little, showing he is as uncertain as I am.
Lying in the middle of his bed, I wait for him. My long, bare legs cross at the knee, a casual pose. This scene is anything but casual.
Beneath his favorite tattered Go-Go's shirt, I am naked. I was there when he got this shirt at the mall. It smells like him, the worn fabric soft against my bare breasts.
“Blair?”
“Come here,” I whisper timidly, sitting back against his headboard. “I think both of us imagined this, just like this, enough times. Didn’t you?”
Standing in the door, soft buttery light glowing behind him, he nods. He shrugs off his jean jacket, the denim crumbling at his feet.
The dark Adidas tracksuit cannot hide how big and hard he is. And I don’t hide that I notice. I can hear his breathing speed up before he takes a few steps towards the bed.
“Yeah. Yeah, I imagined this before. Plenty of times. Don’t take that shirt off. I bought it for you, did you know that? You loved that album so when we saw it…I was too scared to give it to you.”
Letting my legs fall open, I heave a sigh that hikes the shirt higher up my thighs. My hands wrap around the posts of his headboard as he lifts a knee on the bed. Jerking his head, he swipes his tongue over his lips slowly.
“More. Show me more, but don’t you take that off. It’s yours babe,” his voice is deep, raw, hypnotic.
Biting my lip, I nod, sliding a bit lower on the bed. This bunches the shirt up, just beneath my breasts. He stuns me, pulling off his top, showing off the lean, muscular body that always drove me crazy. Moving forward, he grasps my thighs, shoving them wide.
Brenden lies down, head at my stomach, lips pressed to my thigh. The contact sends slow pulses of pleasure between my thighs. I comb my fingers through his mussed hair, sighing as he works his lips up my thigh.
“He left you,” he rasps against my skin. “I won’t.”
His big hands slide beneath me, pulling me beneath him. Without hesitation, my legs spread to fit him, hiking up at his ribs. Head ducked, he presses slow, teasing kisses over my stomach, across my ribs, the underside of my breasts.
When his hands push the shirt up to my shoulders, I gasp. His mouth closes on my nipple, turning the gasp to a moan as pleasure ripples through me.
“Oh, yes,” I whimper shamelessly, arcing to his magic mouth.
His teeth scrape against the stiff nipple and fire coils between my legs. When his hand palms the other breast, making sure that nipple gets attention, I begin quivering beneath him.
