Winter Jacket (7 page)

“Why are you two still up?” Nikole had appeared in the hallway. Her hair was a little wild and her eyes squinted into the overhead lights. “Troi, you have a Skype meeting in the morning with your producer, and Professor Graft, I’m sure you have work to do in the morning, too.”

“Yes, mom,” I cracked, although I did f
eel guilty for keeping her up.  With her landscaping business, Nikole kept some horribly early hours, often getting up before the sun.

I hopped up from my seat.  “I’ll let
myself out,” I called over my shoulder as I walked to the front foyer. I grabbed my still-damp jacket and pulled it on.  “Hey, are we still on for lunch on next Friday?”

“Last Day of School Lunch?” Nikole asked.

“Yup. Although I may need more than just a congratulatory panini after this semester,” I grumbled.

“Maybe Hunter will give you something,” Troian giggled.

I rolled my eyes, but gave my friends a quick wave.  “Thanks for dinner and for the chat.  I’ll see you guy later.”

+++++

CHAPTER three

I looked up from my grading when I heard a knock on my open office door. 
Hunter stood in the doorway, her face impassive.  She wore a fitted tank top and a cotton skirt that fell just below her knees.  Conspicuously absent was her trademark winter jacket.

“
Hi, Hunter.”  I finished making a correction on the sentence I was currently working on.  My days lately consisted of grading one paper after another.  “Come on in,” I said, distracted by a misplaced modifier.  “Let me just finish this paper, and I’ll be right with you.”

Hunter
remained silent and closed the office door behind her.  I looked up questioningly when I heard the sound of the latch. "You can leave that open if you want," I noted.  We weren’t supposed to meet with students behind closed doors for obvious reasons.

Hunter
leaned her back against the door.  Her hands were hidden behind her, clutching at the doorknob.  She shook her head.
"I don't like audiences," she stated throatily, still leaning against the closed door.

I set my pen and the partially graded paper down. I rolled my office chair away from my desk, backing up about a foot. “Is everything okay?”

She bit her lower lip and nodded.  Her body language, however, indicated that she was the opposite of fine. 

I stood from my chair.  “Why don’t you have a seat and you can tell me what’s on your mind?”

“It’s you,” Hunter blurted out in a voice far less reserved than I was accustomed to hearing from her.

I was startled by the outburst. “Me?”

“You.
You’re
on my mind, Professor.”

I shook my head feeling perplexed. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

Hunter pushed herself off the door and lunged in my direction.  I jumped backwards and nearly fell over the wheeled chair situated behind me. Instead of continuing forward, she braced an arm on my desk and released a shuddering sob. “I’m
so
sorry,” she cried. “I just don’t know how to do this anymore.” She brought her hands to her face and her shoulders caved and shook with emotion.

I tried to collect myself, but my heart still raced in my chest.
I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened.  Had she tried to
attack
me?

“
Hunter,” I stated in what I hoped was a soothing voice. “What’s wrong?” I stood back awkwardly, not sure what to do.  I’d had plenty of students break down in tears in my office over the years, but it had always been on account of a bad grade.  Hunter was a solid B+ student, so it couldn’t have been that. “Hunter?” I tried again, slowly inching closer. 

She remained with her hands covering her face.
She wasn’t audibly crying, but her shoulders were visibly tense and quivering. 

“Hey,” I tried again, dropping my voice to a lower register.  “I’m sure everything will be okay.”

Her hands slipped from her face.  Her features were flushed and tear stains trailed down her normally pale complexion.  Without really thinking, I reached out and swept away a few straggling tears on her cheekbone with the pad of my thumb.  She visibly shuddered. “I shouldn’t have come here,” she whimpered.

“
Hunter,” I said, softer this time.  I tentatively brought my hand up to her shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze.  “Tell me what’s wrong.”              

She
looked down to where my hand rested on her shoulder.  She leaned her head closer and my eyes widened when she pressed her lips against the back of my hand.  Her eyes shut and she lessened the pressure until her soft lips just barely grazed the top of my hand.

From there, my body reacted
on its own accord.  It was as if her tentative but brave kiss had awoken something and I now had no control over my right hand.  I trailed my fingertips across her exposed collarbone. She pushed out a sharp breath through her nose and her eyes fluttered shut.  

I leaned closer and unabashedly inhaled. 
My nostrils filled with the light perfume that tormented me for hours after she would leave our one-on-one meetings. She smelled
so
good. I wanted to sink my teeth into her flesh.  I wanted to make my beautiful student squirm on my desk.  I wanted her spread open for me, panting to be touched.

I
slipped my arm around her waist and I maneuvered her until she was perched on the edge of my desk.  She eagerly submitted to me, her body giving no resistance to my advances.  I held onto her hips, pinning her in place before dipping my head and pressing my mouth against her exposed breastplate.  Her pale skin became more and more flushed the longer she sat perched on my desk.  Her skin was warm and soft beneath my slightly parted lips.  

I pressed my mouth harder against her.  She filled her lungs with air and her soft breas
ts rose up, swelling beneath her tank top and providing me with an eyeful of tantalizing cleavage. I dipped my tongue in the v-shaped valley between her pert breasts. She sighed contentedly and arched her back, pushing her breasts more fully into my face. 

A
low growl bubbled up in my throat.  I tightened my grip on her hips, pulling a quiet gasp from her.  I could feel her quiver beneath me. I traveled my hands up naked thighs, bunching up the material of her skirt as I went. My breath caught in my throat when Hunter's underwear came into view, teal and lacy. I ran my fingertips along the elastic band that hugged her right hipbone.  I hadn’t even kissed her mouth yet.

A small
noise, a discernable whimper, spilled from her tense mouth. "Professor," she panted. "Please."

I dipped further
beneath the delicate material and my fingertips ran over warm, smooth skin that contrasted deliciously with the stability of her jutting hipbone.  My fingers curled around the elastic edge, and I began to pull down.

I jolted upright in bed.  My body was damp with sweat and my legs were tangled up in the sheets.
It had only been a dream. I rolled over in bed to reach for the water glass I kept on the bedside table. The glass was drained, however. With a disgruntled sigh, I flipped the comforter off and stormed towards the kitchen downstairs. 

My preoccupation with Hunter had become so overwhelming in waking hours that it now infiltrated my sleep as well. I was fortunate that the semester was nearly over.  I could only hope that I wouldn’t think about her so much when I didn’t see her four times a week for class.

I didn’t bother turning on the
overhead lights.  Just enough moonlight spilled in through the windows that I was able to make my way downstairs.  I filled a glass with water from the tap and stared out the window over the sink. 

The leaves on the maple tree in my backyard had just started to fill out.  I made a mental note
for Nikole to get me a quote for some new landscaping.  The previous homeowners had planted hostas in the backyard, and they’d grown so much since I’d first moved in that they were starting to take over the yard.  I didn’t mind the plant, but I’d always wanted a flower garden of my own. 

I didn’t have a green thumb
, but with practice I’d managed to keep some houseplants alive.  I found that when I named them I was more invested in keeping them alive.  It hadn’t gotten to the point where I talked to them or confided in them, but that kind of craziness wasn’t above me. 

I made another mental note to drop by the
Humane Society in the morning.  Maybe it was because I’d just woken up from an unconventional dream, but it suddenly felt very lonely in my two-story home. I was a serial monogamist, never feeling quite whole without being part of a couple.  Maybe it was time for me to branch out and get a proper pet that wasn’t a spider plant.  Or maybe I was finally ready to start dating again.

+++++

On the last day of the semester, I was in my faculty office waiting for students to pick up their final graded analysis.  Because I taught writing, my students rarely had final exams.  Instead, they wrote research papers and reflection essays on how their skills had improved (or not) over the duration of the semester. I often joked with colleagues that teaching writing would have been the perfect job if not for having to actually grade student writing.

As one student after the next stopped by my office to pick up their paper, t
ime passed quickly between the goodbyes, and soon it was almost time to go. 11:57am.  I had told students I'd only be around until noon; after that I had plans to meet up with Nikole for lunch. Normally Troian joined us to help me celebrate the end of another semester, but she was currently busy working on revising her screenplay and had a hard deadline to meet. I rarely saw her during these stretches; she'd bury herself in work and emerge a few weeks later, bleary eyed and blinking at the sun.

I stared at the clock display in the corner of my computer monitor and frowned.
 11:59am. I hadn’t wanted to hold out hope that Hunter would be one of the few students who showed up to pick up their final paper, but every time I heard footsteps in the hallway outside of my office, my heart had leapt into my throat.  Few students ever came to pick up their final paper. As soon as exams were over most bolted off campus as fast as they could to start enjoying their summers. I had a few more obligations to attend to, but soon enough I would be enjoying summer as well.  I knew it had been foolish to hope that I would see her one last time.

I
started to pack up, putting some library books I needed to return into my book bag.  I paused, however, when I heard shoes pounding up stairs and running down the corridor outside my office door.

Hunter
’s face appeared inside my doorway.  “Am I too late?”  Her normally alabaster skin looked flushed and she was breathing heavier than usual as if she’d just run a great distance.

Her sudden appearance startled me.  Normally I needed time to mentally prepare for her; I’d all but given up hope that I’d see her one last time.
  To add insult to injury, the last time I'd seen her was in my dreams, seated on top of my desk, with me between her thighs.

“You made it just in time
,” I greeted without stumbling over my words too obviously.  I handed her the folder that contained her final paper and her reflection letter. Unlike most of my other students, she didn't immediately tear into the folder in front of me like a savage animal to look at her grade.

"I'm so sorry if I made you wait," she apologized, still looking slightly disheveled. "I wanted to get here earlier, but time got away from me this morning." If possible, her flushed features made her look even more attractive than u
sual.  She always looked so put-together.  It reminded me of the day she forgot her umbrella and I had given her a ride home. When she was fallible, she became more real. She wasn't just the quirky student who sat in the left corner of the classroom.  She wasn't just some taboo teacher-student fantasy.

I watch
ed a delicate line of sweat trickle down the hollow of her throat and disappear beneath the neckline of her t-shirt.  She must have literally ran all the way here. I'd never seen her sweat, not even in the classroom when she’d kept her jacket on.  My heart hammered loudly in my head, and her next words muffled in my ears.

"Hmmm?"