Harry
This is supposed to be the stuff of every incumbent male college student’s wet dream, a chance campus run-in leading to an invitation to pussy town. And with a teacher? Even better.
Except that’s not what I’ve ever fantasized about. I’m in school to earn an education — and a ticket up in the world for myself and my mom.
I mean, I’m no prude. Nor am I a virgin. I had my first time my sophomore year, with a girl named Becca. She was on the woman’s crew team and we met at a spring sports banquet. We’d had the chemistry but not the heart connection, so we’d ended up enjoying a friends-with-benefits sort of situation. It ended when she decided to study abroad in Japan.
It was fun — but it’s nothing compared to my pull to Kate.
Becca was sweet candy and beer, and Kate is filet mignon paired with a glass of rich pinot noir. Kate is the sun to my earth, and I expect that I’ll feel cold and gray without her light shining on me.
I wanted Becca.
But I need Kate.
At least, I need to try to make her mine, to claim her heart and body for my own.
And, judging by her invitation, she feels the same. About me claiming her body, at least.
I can work with that.
Not wanting to let her out of my sight, fearing that she’ll evaporate like a dream, I offer to drive her to my place. She hesitates, and I’d bet good money that she’s imagining the stereotypical undergrad guy’s dump of a place. Not that I blame her — that’s the stereotype for a reason. But she nods, and I grin to myself, knowing that she’ll be pleasantly surprised when she sees my digs.
The ride across the town of Shotgun feels both brief and interminable. I want more time because hell, I’m about to get intimate with the most exquisite woman I’ve ever seen, and I’m nervous. At the same time, my hands demand to touch her, and now.
We don’t speak, but I notice Kate picking and bending the corners of the manila folders resting on her lap. She’s nervous too.
I reach across to take her hand in mine. “Hey,” I say, squeezing. I’m watching the road, but I can feel her eyes snap to me. “We don’t have to do anything more than talk. Or I can drop you anywhere you’d like to go.”
She squeezes my hand in return. “I want to do this. I want you. I — I’ve just never done anything like this before.”
“Me neither. It’s not something I ever thought I’d do. But for some reason this feels right.” My heart’s hammering as I speak so vulnerably. I’m a truthful guy, but I’m not used to putting my heart out there for a woman I feel so deeply bonded with to accept or reject me.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way — I’d rather be spurned by Kate than never try to win her in the first place. She’s worth the risk. It turns out Shakespeare was right, it really is better to have loved and lost than to never have gotten in the damn game at all.
“It feels right to me too.” She pauses, and when she speaks, humor with an edge of worry has again entered her tone. “You sure you’re not taking me to a bachelor pad littered with dirty laundry and empty chip bags that you share with six other guys?”
I snort. “If I lived in a place like that, I’d be reserving a hotel room right about now.”
She doesn’t respond, but now anticipation is dousing my nerves, calming me. Because I’m about to surprise the shit out of Kate, and not just because I intend to make love to every inch of her body like the goddess she is.
What she doesn’t know is that no only do I not live in stereotypical undergrad style, but that my place is pretty damn upscale. I force myself to not step on the accelerator and to drive the speed limit for the last few blocks to my home.
I turn onto a quiet street lined with magnificent oak trees and impeccably kept historical homes. This district of Shotgun was part of the original settlement when westward expansion was happening in the eighteen hundreds, and its been lovingly preserved like the artifact that it is.
It’s also where all the rich people live. These homes are all worth at least a half a million dollars, and many of them are valued much higher. Like, much higher.
I watch Kate’s face out of the corner of my eye as I pull into a long driveway that curves along a lush lawn past a slate-colored Victorian home sporting white trim and latticework circling the front porch. It’s modest, as Victorian houses go, with a small footprint and two understated stories.
Her mouth slowly drops wide, jaw dangling, eyes taking in every detail of the property.
“This . . . this is yours?” she breathes.
I chuckle, enjoying myself. “No. But that is.” I point through the front windshield at the garage I’m pulling next to. I put my car into park and kill the engine. “I live in the loft above the garage.”
“This is a garage?” Kate’s skepticism isn’t unfounded. The garage is really a renovated carriage house that’s just as beautiful as the main house, white-painted carved flourishes curving at the eaves, a stained glass accent window above the two vehicle entries.
“That’s what I’m told.” I turn to her, grinning. “Want to come inside?”
“Hell yeah I do, and not just because you’re going to fuck me good.” Her eyes dance with mischief, and her words make the erection I’m struggling to control throb. But she hesitates a beat, head cocked as if she’s taking in the words that just emerged from her mouth, and her cheeks redden. “I mean, like, if you want to do that.”
“Fuck you good?”
She buries her face in her hands with a groan. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Hey.” Gently, I cover her hands in mine and peel them from her face. “I liked it. I like you. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“I’ve never said anything like that.”
“Maybe,” I say with a shrug, “it’s because you’ve never met the right person to say something like that to.”
The crease of concern between her eyebrows smooths. “Until now.” She leans forward and kisses me. Her lips are feather-light against mine, and I shiver.
“Damn straight,” I growl. “And I do intend to fuck you good.”
She grins and kisses me again, harder this time. “Excellent.”
Her tongue snakes along my bottom lip, and I open my mouth for her. She tastes me, flicking her tongue over mine. I tease her with my tongue, trying to draw her into my mouth. She retreats and advances until I can’t stand it anymore. I wrap my arms around her and crush her to me, invading her mouth, devouring her moans.
“God, you’re perfect,” I rasp. “No one’s ever turned me on like this. I could take you right here.”
Her heavy-lidded eyes roam my face, lips parted, chest quick in its rise and fall. “But then I wouldn’t see the inside of your apartment. And I need to.”
“I need to be inside you,” I say, but I’m already out of the car and loping around to the other side to help her out. I glance around to see if my landlord, Gary, is around to see how tented my jeans are. Thankfully, he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Come on,” I say, clasping one of Kate’s hands and pulling her up the exterior stairs on the south side of the building that lead up to my loft. I make quick work of the lock and tug her inside after me.