Two
MICHAEL
From the moment I set my eyes on Professor Betty Graham, I've always had the most erotic and scandalous imaginations about her. I've created sick scenarios in my head, with her as my muse. I've dreamt of the day she'll touch me.
I never thought it'd be today. I never thought it'd come as a resounding slap. Seconds pass and I'm still in a mild shock. My cheeks burn but you wanna know what's burning more?
My fucking heart. It's leaping in dangerous excitement. She looks so furious, it's making me fucking excited. Knowing I can get under that numb, cold skin of hers. Knowing I can ignite such a reaction from her. I don't know, but this moment feels like a damn win.
“I…I…didn't mean to do that,” she mutters quickly, picking up her bag. “Please don't tell the principal.”
That's one lame-ass apology. It's obvious she's not apologizing because she regrets what she did. She just doesn't want me telling the principal.
She's just scared of losing her job. Good to see she's scared of something. She's usually too cold, I almost thought nothing bothers her.
Again she tries leaving. I step in front of her, forcing her to move backwards until her ass pins on the table. She's panting and glaring at me.
“Michael…”
“Tell me the truth, Professor Betty. You love it when I push you like this, don't you? You love it when I get under your skin…When I make you blush. You try so hard to hide it…” I lower my height in front of her, pinning my hands on both sides of the table. She's so shaken, it's fucking cute.
“...but I see it all, Professor Betty. I see what happens between your thighs when I taunt you.” I grin, licking my lips.
She breathes out a curse and lands me a harder slap. But this time, she gasps, covering her face in shock. Like she didn't mean to do it. What's with hitting me and regretting it a second later?
My face burns harder. But there's the sick excitement again, knowing she just touched me the second time.
I look at her, hungrily. She already hit me, I got nothing left to lose. I run my eyes over her body, lingering at the cleavage between her open buttons. If only she knows how many wet dreams I've had over these big, succulent boobs of hers.
“Do it again,” I grunt out.
Her eyes widen. “You're sick.”
“Yes. You've got no idea.” I breathe out.
“Then go get treated. And stay away from me!” She snaps, giving me a very firm push. She storms out of the class.
I watch her until she's out of sight. It's just me and an empty hall. And a boner. And a stinging cheek.
I suck it all in and head to my next class. But it's futile because all I'm thinking about is her chocolate mix perfume. Our proximity back there. Her fiery eyes that were mixed with anger and arousal. Her cleavage…HER.
“Mind telling me where your mind's at, Mr. Bolton?” Mr. Preston, the geography professor asks, distracting me from my thoughts.
I'm lazily twirling my pen between my fingers. “Why? You wanna provide a map on how to get there?” I chortle. The whole class laughs.
He folds in shame and goes back to teaching. I'm sitting here thinking…Professor Betty wouldn't have folded so fast. She would have clapped back even harder
It's one of the things that I find attractive about her. That pouty, but blunt mouth of hers.
Very audacious of me to thoroughly sexualize a professor. But I can't help it. Not when she looks so fucking hot.
“Mr. Bolton?”
I look at the window. It's Mr. Gabriel, the principal's aide.
“The Principal's asking for you.”
My brows crease. Why? But I don't ask that out loud. I just grab my stuff and leave the class.
Getting towards his office, I spot the guys lingering. They all notice me at once and run towards me. It's Link, Matty, and Noah.
“Dude.”
“What's going on?” I ask, but my heart stops beating as I spot Heather, Dad's P.A.-slash-mistress sitting at a corner of the hallway.
“Your Dad's here, man.” Link tells me.
Yeah, because she goes everywhere he goes. A bloody homewrecker. She looks up and our eyes meet. I'm scowling at her so hard. If eyes could kill, she'd be rotten in the ground.
She looks away quickly, fidgeting.
“He's furious about your F,” Noah adds.
“My F?” I ask in shock. Again, Dad's knowing about my mess up before they even cool off. It's clear he has someone keeping a close eye on me in school. The guys have sworn it isn't them. But it has to be someone…a student.
“He's furious at the principal and at Professor Betty.”
That part gets my brain jogging. I don't wait a second before dashing into the principal's office.
Principal Charles is on his mahogany seat, with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His fingers are intertwined as he watches the drama unfold.
My Dad's standing and yelling. Professor Betty is at the other end of the office, looking every bit her rigid self. Back straight, head held high.
“...you know my son can't afford an F right now. He's about to leave college. He needs a perfect final year record to be able to take over my damn company. Giving him an F is ridiculous!”
“It's not ridiculous if he makes jokes with his projects and says inappropriate stuff. He got what he deserved.” Professor Betty fires back.
“Talking about appropriate when you're dressed in such a tight skirt, flashing us your cleavage, and with that impeccable make-up. Lady, please, with all due respect, shut the fuck up!”
Professor Betty grows even more rigid. I can't get involved. This is beyond me. A furious Dad and a furious professor Betty. I'll be burned if I dare get involved.
“Your son does nothing but engage in shenanigans. He's a complete ass with no respect for his professors. He thinks life revolves around him and his little parties and minions and their little basketball hoops but it doesn't. There's so much more than being a college bully!”
“Those professors get paid all fucking thanks to the charity I provide to this damn school!” Dad blasts back. “He has no reason to give them any fucking respect. You, included.”
“Oh, great!” Professor Betty laughs sarcastically. “Now I see where he got his jackass attitude from. I should have known it's a family trait. Then maybe I wouldn't be so hard on him. I would have understood he just can't help himself.”
“You better watch your mouth, lady,” Dad warns through clenched teeth.
“Or what?!” Professor Betty backfires. “That kid is mannerless. He's a damn misogynist who thinks women should be sexualized. He's a threat to society and so are you, Mr. Senior Bolton!”
“I said, that's enough!” Dad yells harder, making her flinch. He turns to the principal. “I don't care if you think she's the best literature professor in the city, I want her fired.”
“What?” I blurt out, and all three of them dart their gazes towards me.