The Sex Education of M.E. (31 page)

BOOK: The Sex Education of M.E.
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“Shit,” he said, leaping off of me. I sat upright, taking the sheet with me for coverage.

“Stay,” he demanded, holding out his hands, his naked body standing at the end of his bed. He reached for something on the floor and picked up the white t-shirt that had been under his plaid shirt. Slipping it over his head after stepping into a pair of basketball shorts, Merek turned and exited his room, closing the door behind him.

My heart raced. I didn’t know what to do. Do I dress and climb out the window? My eyes travelled to the one on the left of the room. There didn’t appear to be a tree close enough. I twisted to look at the window over the bed. No tree there either. My arm wrapped over the sheet covering me, I could feel the rapid thud of my heart through my chest.

Shaky fingers combed through my wild hair, and I giggled.

We were caught
.

I covered my mouth with a shaky hand, stifling the growing laughter.

Oh my God, we were caught by his kids
.

My body began to tremble as I suppressed the need to burst out laughing.

Oh my God, we were caught by his kids, and I was still in his bed
.

A squeak leaked from my lips.
Oh my God, we were caught by his kids, I was still in his bed, and I’d have to do a walk of shame to get out of here
.

The need to laugh stopped. Hysteria was taking over. I fell back and cackled.

This could not be happening, I told myself. If I worried about rumors from an old lady, the gossip from his children would be immeasurable.

Neighborhood headline reads:
Mrs. Peters Got Caught Having Sex with Mr. Whittington
. Two neighbors. In the bedroom. With uncontrollable lust. But this wasn’t a game any longer. Merek almost called me his girlfriend. He told the old lady I was going to be his wife.

I sat up again, my heart racing anew.
Could I marry again?
The thought had never crossed my mind. I enjoyed my independence. I was a modern woman. I didn’t need a man to complete me. I could live alone.

The thought stopped me.

While I was all those things, the bottom line was: I didn’t want to be alone. While I was independent, I wanted to be able to lean on someone. While I was a modern woman, I still believed in tradition and romance. While I didn’t need a man to complete me, Merek did fulfill my needs. Allowing these thoughts to consume me, Merek returned. He quickly closed the door again and stepped toward the bed. He climbed over me, knocking me gently backwards and covering my body. He wasn’t only pinning me; it was as if he was holding me down so I couldn’t leave.

“What’s going on?” I asked, shakily.

“It’s late. They wanted to come home. I’d texted them earlier to say we were stopping by the house to have a drink.”

“My girls….” My voice faded with humiliation.

“They know you’re here.”

“How late is it?”

“Two in the morning.” I struggled to sit up, but the size and strength of Merek kept me still.

“I can’t spend the night,” I shrieked quietly. His head lowered so his forehead rested on mine.

“I know,” he exhaled, softly. His forehead rolled over mine before he pulled back. “But Emme, I don’t want you to leave.” His words lingered between us.

“I hate that you have to go. I hate that we each go to bed at night alone. I don’t like that you have to leave after what we’ve done when all I want to do is hold you the rest of the night.”

“Merek, I…” My hand tenderly wiped down his cheek.

“This is messy,” he interrupted me with a tender peck. “But we can work it out, right?” He pulled back, his eyes roaming over my face. His expression hopeful and frightened.

“We…we can,” I offered softly. His mouth twisted, and then curved on one side. That lopsided grin grew until both sides matched and those deep dimples were exposed.

“Yeah?” he questioned.

“Yeah.” I nodded. His mouth came to mine, keeping me hostage for a few more minutes with delicate attention to my lips. Sucking and tracing, it was as if he wanted to memorize my mouth before I had to go.

“Merek,” I eventually giggled. “How am I going to get out of here?” He rested his forehead against mine again. “I sent the kids to their rooms.” He chuckled. His hand wrapped around the nape of my neck.

“I hate this,” he whispered.

“I know.” That intense gaze we had earlier in the night returned. Eyes questioned, trying to read thoughts, and draw out answers, but there wasn’t a need. We’d just have to take things day-by-day, month-by-month. Only this time we were moving forward together, working toward something, not trying to step away from the past.

 

“Professor Peters?” The knock on the door and the soft address made me spin away from my desk. In the doorway of my office stood Grant Mullens, that seductive smile on his lips, but a sheepish expression on his face. In his hand he held a vase of flowers.

“Professor Peters, I wanted to apologize for the other night.” He held out the flowers. It had been years since a man had given me flowers. It was the small things that mattered, and I always wished that Nate would spontaneously bring flowers to me. Instead he felt they would just die anyway, so what was the point.

“Thank you, Grant. This is so sweet of you,” I said, reaching out for the vase.

“Oh, yeah, well, these aren’t from me. I stopped in the English Office to find out your office hours and the secretary asked me to bring these down to you.”

“Oh. Oh,” I said, feeling awkward as I set the arrangement on the corner of my desk. A beautiful array of yellow sunflowers, purple sprigs, and white daisies brightened my little corner of the university. I smiled in spite of myself, even if they weren’t an apology from Grant.

“So, yeah, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about the other night. Levi told me I was out of line, and I don’t want to get kicked out or a bad grade or anything. So I wanted to say I was sorry.” He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Rolling on the balls of his feet, I realized that the man-looking person before me was still barely out of childhood at twenty-something-years old. I could never have slept with someone so young, but it didn’t hurt to take a second look at him. He was a gorgeous man. Hopefully, he was a good man, too.

“I wouldn’t dock your grade, Grant. All in good fun, right? Did you enjoy the bar?” I asked.

“Yeah, but we left early. Might have had too much fun, if you know what I mean.” He winked and the playful, flirtatious side of my student returned.

“I know what you mean.”

“You okay, Professor Peters? You seemed like you were running from something the other night.”

I stared at this young man. I was running the other night. Running from the past. Running from the history of being cheated on and the fear that it could happen again. Running from the past of a man who played the field, but was ready to settle at home plate. No more running away, though. We needed to face things as they happened, together.

“I’m fine, Grant. Thanks for asking.” I was fine. I was better than fine, actually. “Thanks for bringing down the flowers.” I nodded in the direction of the arrangement.

“Sure. Okay, see ya in class,” he said with a feeble wave. After he left my doorway, I pulled the card from the bouquet.

 

Thanks for the ride.

 

I smiled to myself. Merek. Reaching for a flower, I stroked the delicate petal. I had a few minutes before class so I texted him.

- Thank you for the flowers.
- Yeah? You’re welcome, darlin’
- They’re beautiful.
- So are you.
- I lck you, too.

I smiled to myself then did a double take.
Wait, what?

- You lick me?

Shit, where was autocorrect when you needed it? I’m typing my correction when he responds.

- I like you.

Smiling, I laughed. Out loud. Then another message appeared.

- But if you want me to lick you, I can do that, too.

Suddenly, another body part smiled.

- Maybe soon. I need to get to class.

There was no response after that and I gathered my things for my short story course with a cheesy grin on my face and the potential for a wet problem between my legs. I walked briskly to the classroom hoping to ward off the sudden ache with some stimulating conversation about short stories.

“Ew,” Jonathan Martinez shivers in his seat as we finished a passage with an older couple. “Old love,” he muttered, loud enough he grabbed the room’s attention. Looking up from the story, I questioned him.

“What’s ‘old love’?” Air-quotes emphasized the phrase.

“You know, when old people are all cutesy with each other and stuff.”

I blinked in utter surprise.

“What’s ‘and stuff’?”

“You know, when they’re all kissy and say cute things to each other. They’re silly over each other.” He shivered exaggeratedly from his seat.

“OTP,” Andrea said next to him. “I think it’s adorable.”

“What’s ‘OTP’?” I asked, feeling older and older by the minute. I worried I was about to get an inappropriate education.

“OTP. One true pair, Professor,” Andrea explained, like I was a child. “The grandfather and the nurse.” She waved her hand over the short story. I laughed. I was certainly learning a lot today in my own class.

“Okay, back to Jonathan for a moment. What’s your definition of old? Remember this is the 1700s. The grandfather isn’t as old as yours might be, considering we live almost double the amount of time.” Holding my breath, I awaited his answer, expecting what he was about to say.

“Over forty,” he squeaked, shifting his eyes from me to the girl sitting next to him. I laughed, shaking my head.

“I’m over forty,” I stated, still smiling.

“Yeah, well, you’re different. You don’t seem that old,” Andrea assured me.

Out of the mouths of twenty-year-olds.

Class eventually ended on that note, and I couldn’t contain my excitement to see the flowers sitting on my desk. They were thoughtful and a true novelty for me. Considering it had only been two days since Merek and I decided we were going to work at building something more, it was a sweet gesture. Romantic even.

I entered my small space, which had one window, one desk, an extra chair and a large messy bookcase, to stare at the flower arrangement. Standing before my computer, I jumped when I heard a voice.

“So this is where you work?”

Merek’s voice filled the cozy space, and I spun to face him. I couldn’t contain the beaming smile on my face.

“Hey! What brings you here?”

Stepping into my office, he closed my door, and leaned against it.

“Cassie had some medical forms that needed to be handed in because she started a week late. Thought it was easiest just to bring them here myself.” The comment brought the excitement of seeing him down a notch. Things would be raw for a little while as we wove our way through how a relationship might work.

“But I had another matter to discuss with you.” His hand slid up the door and flicked the lock. “You don’t have another class yet, right?” His listening skills were unbelievable. It appeared he had my class schedule memorized from a conversation.

“Nope. Nothing until one. Why?” I smiled slowly, the tension between us rising, but it didn’t have to do with the issue of Cassie and her late start. This was something else, and that mischievous grin of his began to spread. Those dimples appeared under his salt-and-pepper stubble.

“Licking,” he stated definitively, his mouth still tweaked upward. My underwear nearly melted. For some reason, I backed up against my desk, as if he was going to attack me. In many ways, I wanted him to pounce. His hand flipped the light switch. My office grew darker, but not too dark, as the one window had open blinds. Lights off signaled my office was closed, and that was good enough. Merek stalked toward me.

“Don’t you have to work?” I questioned, just filling the silence as those dark eyes sparked.

“I do, but there was a small emergency. A flame was started and I’ve come to put it out.”

“A fire,” I smirked, swallowing hard as his body came up against mine. “Good thing you’re a fireman.”

“That’s commander to you,” he teased.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered. His eyes closed and his hands tugged on my hips.

“You have no idea what that just did to me,” he grinned, opening his eyes to reveal darkness ablaze with desire. The material of my pencil skirt rose. My bare legs were exposed. Impulsively, my feet spread apart.

“Are we really going to do this here?” My voice came out strangled, but thrilled and paranoid.

“Yes,” he confirmed as he knelt on one knee and then the other. My underwear came down to my ankles. My skirt pushed up to my hips. Merek’s mouth came to my center. I gripped the edge of my desk, holding myself upright with the lip assault on my lower region.

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