Lost in Light (4 page)

He had looked so different, and so good, in his faded jeans and t-shirt. Not to say that he didn’t look good during class when he wore tailored slacks and button down shirts. I’d had more than one fantasy about loosening his tie and slowly unbuttoning his skin to run my fingers over the warm skin of his chest. But there was something different, almost intimate, about seeing him so relaxed and well, so sexy.

My phone buzzed beside me on the bed, buried somewhere beneath the spill of my textbooks and laptop, and startled me out of another bout of daydreaming about Professor Davis. Fishing out my phone I checked the display and saw that it was a text from Liam saying that he was staying at Patrick’s again tonight, but only if I was okay on my own. Rolling my eyes at the two lovebirds I sent him a reply that I would be fine, and that I hoped he enjoyed himself.

Setting the phone aside I turned back to my books but paused when my stomach growled loudly. Glancing down at the clock I saw that I had wasted my entire afternoon woolgathering, and had completely skipped lunch. As soon as I acknowledged my hunger it clawed painfully at my gut.

Deciding that any more studying would be futile I gathered up my books and laptop, and set them on the small desk in the corner of my room. Snatching up my keys from the dish on the kitchen counter I decided to treat myself to takeout from The House of Kabob down the street. Eagerly stepped out onto the sidewalk I found that the air was still pleasantly warm, with the sun casting a dazzling golden hue on the city. It was my favorite time of day, when everything looked as if it was gilded in gold, and the birds chattered as they flocked to roost in the trees.

Stepping into the dark interior of the restaurant, I smiled at the hostess and moved to take a seat in the bar. The bartender gave me a friendly smile, recognizing me from the many times that Liam and I had been there before. I looked briefly over the menu before ordering my usual – hummus, chicken schwarma, pita bread, with an extra side of Tatziki sauce. Slowly sipping my beer while waiting for my food, I pulled out my phone to check Facebook and play a quick round of Dice with Friends with my brother Corey.

A smooth voice at the other end of the bar drew my attention upwards. My mouth dropped open in disbelief as I watched Professor Davis slide onto a stool and accept a menu from the bartender.

“Professor Davis?” I blurted loudly, instantly wishing that I had kept my mouth shut. His emerald eyes rose to meet mine, widening slightly in surprise.

“Miss Parker,” he greeted, nodding in my direction. “Are you following me?” he added, his voice warm with humor as he arched a brow at me.

“No! I was wondering if
you
were following
me
,” I shot back with a smirk of my own.

“Stalking students is not one of my preferred pastimes, so no. I was at the campus grading papers,” he explained as he slid off of the barstool and approached me, bringing his Jack and Coke with him.

“May I?” he asked, indicating the empty seat beside me.

“I, umm… yes?” I said, abruptly nervous to have him standing so close.

The bartender interrupted briefly to take his order, giving me another chance to appreciate him in his relaxed dress. I idly ran my fingers through the condensation rings from my beer while he ordered, studying his profile from the corner of my eye. As he handed his menu back to the bartender I quickly looked away so he wouldn’t catch me ogling him.

“Alone this evening?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink, my eyes drawn to the movement of his lips.

Moistening my own reflexively, I replied distractedly, “Err… yes. My roommate, Liam, is with his boyfriend.” As his lips began to twist into a smirk, I managed to pull my eyes up to meet his, flushing at the dark glint of heat in their pale depths.

Before I could embarrass myself any further my food arrived and I gratefully accepting the plastic bag from the bartender. Fidgeting awkwardly in my seat, I wasn’t sure if I should keep Professor Davis company while he waited for his own food, or if I was free to run away before I stuck my foot in my mouth. I watched stupefied as he leaned close and inhaled deeply, the thin fabric of his t-shirt stretched tauntingly across his chest, making my mouth simultaneously water and feel as if all the moisture had been sucked out of it.

“Smells good,” he purred, his eyes never leaving mine, his breath fragrant with the sweet and spicy scent of Jack. Settling back in his seat he took another sip, his lips and throat working in that tantalizing way that made my insides twist into knots of desire.

“Don’t let me keep you, Miss Parker,” He said as that damned knowing smirk crept across his lips again, making me fight to keep the frown from my face. “My own food will be along shortly.”

“I’ll err… be off then. Goodnight, Professor,” I stammered. Gulping down the rest of my beer I slid off the barstool, and found myself trapped between him and the bar, his thigh a searing line of heat across my belly. My mind swam for a moment, whether from the beer or the nearness of him, I couldn’t be sure. Blushing deeply I glanced up into his face, irresistibly close to mine, and fought against the sudden urge to kiss those smirking lips. As I clumsily extricated myself my hand brushed against his muscled thigh, making my cheeks flame all the more.

His low tone stopped me dead in my tracks, and slid along my skin like heated velvet. “Goodnight, Rachel.”

Bowing my head to hide my raging blush I made a beeline for the door, not sure at all if the rumbling chuckle behind me was real or a figment of my overworked imagination.

Chapter Four

“Nudes,” Professor Davis announced, his eyes pinning me in place as I finished settling into my seat in the lecture hall. Maintaining eye contact with me for a breathless moment longer, he finally broke away and cast his gaze across the rest of the room.

I instantly felt a flush of warmth rise in my cheeks, and I couldn’t help fidgeting as I glanced around at my fellow students to see if anyone else had noticed his attention directed at me. Thankfully, everyone else seemed oblivious, or perhaps I was just delusional. Though I was sure I had seen the beginnings of a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

Nodding at one of the students by the door, Professor Davis waited for him to dim the lights before pressing a button on a remote to bring up the first slide, perhaps one of the most famous nudes of all time – ‘The Birth of Venus’ by Duval. The next click brought a smattering of murmurs and giggles from the class as Duval’s classic rendition of Venus was replaced by an entrancing black and white photograph of a woman. Her eyes were covered by what looked like a black scarf, one hand cupping a full breast while the other lay curled over her privates. It obviously resembled Duval’s Venus, but held a subtle sensuousness that the original couldn’t even begin to touch. I found myself mesmerized by the simple portrait, the stark line of the blindfold bisecting her face tugged at something in the pit my stomach, making me squirm in my seat.

Another click and we were looking at ‘Seated Gladiator’ by Drouais.
Click.
A muscular African American man posed in a chair, one hand draped over his knee while the other rested atop a motorcycle helmet, while the light accentuated each muscle in his chest and stomach. For several minutes Professor Davis cycled through the slides, alternating between classical pieces that many of us easily recognized, and modern nudes that had obviously been shot to resemble their classical inspiration. Once or twice I thought I noticed the same models in some of the photographs but couldn’t be sure as my mind began to swirl with the sensual images.

As class progressed I found myself becoming lost in his voice and the images displayed. Each glance in my direction sent the thrill of excitement down into my core, causing me to shift restlessly in my seat. It had to be obvious that he was staring at me. Each time he advanced the slides to focus on another modern nude he fixed me in place with a penetrating gaze, and yet everyone around me seemed to be as disinterested as usual. Couldn’t they see that he was speaking directly to me when he was telling us to take note of the light hitting the swell of the woman’s breast, or the way that the model was arched in supplication? Couldn’t they tell that his words and the images he was showing us were driving me to distraction?

Shrugging out of my woolen cardigan in an attempt to alleviate the heat pooling in my stomach, I was reaching for the top button of my shirt when his eye caught mine. I felt breathless when the tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. My fingers fumbled with the button as something deep inside me clenched almost painfully, and I felt a sudden surge of warmth and moisture between my legs. The slow arch of his brow ratcheted up the heat coursing through my veins, and sent a spear of arousal straight down into my sex.

Gasping aloud I quickly covered my exhalation with a cough as I glanced around anxiously at my oblivious classmates. Feeling my face heat all the way up to the roots of my equally red hair at his amused smirk, I quickly rebuttoned my shirt, and smoothed the fabric to erase several imaginary wrinkles. Continuing to smile knowingly he went on with the lecture, the smooth cadence of his voice easing my frazzled nerves.

After a while my mind began to wander and I found myself pondering what would have happened if I had left my shirt unbuttoned, or had even more daringly released another button. Would he have watched my trembling fingers with unabashed fascination and hunger as I slowly revealed my breasts? A thread of excitement shot through me as I imagined those cool green eyes watching me intently, his tongue licking his lips slowly as I opened my shirt for him, exposing my naked breasts while my nipples stiffened under his watchful gaze.

I leaned back in my seat as I let my shirt fall open, my knees parting just enough to grant him an unrestricted view of the inside of my thighs beneath the fall of my skirt. I could smell the musky scent of my own arousal rising from between my legs, intensified by the eddying air currents when the heating system kicked on. Warm air flowed across my bare breasts, erasing the chill from my skin but doing nothing to ease the tautness of my nipples.

The rest of the room melted away into a hazy fog. Nothing existed but the few empty seats around me, and Professor Davis at the front of the class. The projector continued to click through the slides, each one now showing a woman in various states of undress and ecstasy. Raising my hands to my chest I cupped both of my breasts, rolling the stiff peaks of my nipples between my fingers as I pressed my breasts together. Arching in my seat I moaned low and deep at the sensations my own fingers were rousing in my flesh, my eyes fluttering closed as my head rolled against the back of the seat.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice impossibly close, low and rough with arousal. Smiling to myself I kept my eyes closed and continued to tease my nipples, letting my knees fall farther apart to expose my panty-clad sex. Each brush of my fingers made my heart beat faster, a shock of pleasure spreading out from the erect buds to radiate throughout my body.

The first touch of his fingers against my knee almost made me come out of my skin, my breath rushing between my parted lips and my eyelashes fluttering against my cheeks. His fingers ghosted along the curve of my inner thigh, becoming more confident as they neared the heat of my moist center. Sliding down in my seat I spread my legs wantonly, the movement drawing my skirt upwards to bare my thighs and give his questing fingers better access.

“I want to touch you,” he whispered, his hot breath against my cheeks forcing me to open my eyes. I looked directly into his eyes, so close that his eyelashes were almost intertwined with my own. He loomed over me, one hand resting on the seat behind my head while the other continued to move up my thigh beneath my skirt. I’d never felt such rampant arousal, my lips feeling slick beneath the cotton of my panties that were surely soaked through.

“Yesss,” I moaned, flexing my hips towards him. Begging him to touch me, to ease the ache between my legs.

Even through the wetness of my panties his fingers were hot as they stroked my mound, tracing the outline of my swollen lips through the thin fabric. An electrifying zing of feeling shot through me at that simple touch, spiraling through my core before spreading out into my limbs. My toes curled and my fingers clenched on my nipples. Tracing my slit he easily found the little hooded nub of my clit, pinching it lightly to bring a gasp from my lips before soothing it with a languid stroke of his fingers.

My heartbeat had risen to a dull roar in my ears, the world immaterial beyond the touch of his hand on my core, the thumb that was slowly circling my clit, and the two fingers that teased my entrance. It wasn’t penetration by any means, but I felt myself teetering on the edge of pleasure, my insides tightening with my pending orgasm as my entire body flooded with heat. So close. I was so close, just a little longer and I knew I would fall over the edge of ecstasy.

The sharp clang of the bell shattered my daydream, and I jolted upright. My eyes darted around the room in panic at the sudden intrusion upon my inner wanton thoughts, my heart thumping painfully in my chest. Breathing deeply in relief I sagged in my chair as the room filled with the shuffling sounds of a few dozen students gathering their belongings. As they filed out of the room I ran a trembling hand through my hair, noting the thin layer of sweat at my temple and the low ache in my nipples as they rubbed against the lace of my bra.

“Is everything okay, Miss Parker?” Professor Davis called from the front of the class, his foot on the first step as if he intended to move up the stairs towards me. Glancing around the room I was both relieved and unnerved to see that all the other students had left.

“Oh yes, I’m fine Professor!” I replied quickly, embarrassment flooding my cheeks with heat. I had just been fantasizing about my teacher touching me, in class, with more than two dozen other people around me, and judging by the sodden state of my panties, I had been as close to orgasm in real life as I had been in my daydream.