Page 6 of Valentine's Kisses
I imagine his strong hand gliding down my arm, lifting the hem of my shirt. I imagine those beautiful, talented hands pulling up my shirt and taking it off. I think of how those hands would feel over my bare breasts, tweaking my nipples, making me want…I clench my legs together in response.
Professor Michaels smirks, “I’ll let you get back to your work, Gabrielle.” He pulls back, but then leans close again, “butI’ll be thinking of you, my beautiful girl,” he says in the softest whisper, “always thinking of you.”
I close my eyes as he walks away, feeling a slight tremor rock through my body.Fuck what is this uncontrollable need that aches to take over?I watch him walk away, watching his ass in the khakis he always wears, and realize something.I would give anything to have him touch me again. I would sacrifice everything.
Chapter Six
Shakespeare Does It Better…
From the very first time she sat down in my class; I knew she was going to be trouble. Mainly trouble to my peace of mind. -Flynn
Flynn
“Have you ever had a crush on a student before?” I ask quietly as I take another gulp from my beer bottle. My hands then nervously pick at the bottle label while I wait for my friend’s answer.
From across the table, Charles smirks and calmly takes another sip of his white wine. “Considering that Mary Anne was my student, yes, I have.”
I lay my beer bottle down on the hard wooden table with a thud. “Mary Anne was your what?” I stare at the older man in awe.
Charles St. John is the quintessential stuffy old man. He’s also a friend of my father’s which is why we occasionally meet for a drink. That and his biting English humor. I think of the gentle, gray-haired Mary Ann and the balding man sitting across from me. A torrid affair between teacher and student for them? I shake my head. Totally not believable.
Charles chuckles. “If you could see your face right now, good fellow.” See, this is why Charles isn’t capable of a forbidden relationship. He says things like good fellow.
I cock my head and study the dowdy old man with horn-rimmed glasses. “Are you pulling my chain, Chuck?” Occasionally, I call him that to rile him up. What can I say? It’s fun.
His smooth smile morphs into a frown. “I told you not to call me that, young man,” he murmurs. “But no, I am not, as you say it, yanking your chain. Mary Anne was my student in the early eighties. Caused quite a scandal at Crestwood back in the day, let me tell you.” He says that last part with a small, satisfied smile on his face as if causing a scandal made him proud as a peacock.
I picture my own father in the starched suit he wears every day. My old man has always been so by-the-book just like his friends. Or at least how I thought his friends were. My father was not amused by the many scandals I caused in my hockey days. “I can imagine,” I reply dryly.
Charles’s grey eyes glaze over as if remembering. Another small smile appears on his face. “My Mary Anne has always been a beautiful woman. Walked into my Theory of Shakespeare Studies class and nearly knocked me off my feet. I knew the first time that I saw her that any sacrifice would be worth it. I knew that she was meant to be my wife. Of course, there were some obstacles to conquer, as it were.” He lifts the glass of wine to his lips primly and then sets it down. “Have you, perhaps, found your own Mary Anne?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
I glance down at the table and then around us. O’Shea’s is crowded with students and teachers alike tonight. It’s the nearest bar to campus and very popular with everyone around here. “What if I have?” I ask solemnly.
Charles rubs his chin slowly and then gives me a look of intense perception. “Then I would say, “The course of true love never did run smooth,” my fine fellow and wish you good luck with your endeavor.” He raises his glass to me, and I scowl back at him.
“That doesn’t help, Chuck. I need real answers about what to do, not a half-assed Shakespeare quote.”
Charles chuckles and for once doesn’t reprimand me for calling him Chuck. “Ah, young, sweet love. There’s nothing better than it, except for maybe the seasoned love I have with my own lovely wife. Have you found out how your “crush” as you call her feels about you?”
I drum my fingers on the table and then take another long swig of my beer. “Not really. I mean, I’ve seen how she looks at me. That’s probably enough, right?”
I think of Gabrielle’s sweet blushes and her nervousness around me. She must feel something, right?
Charles gives a full bellied laugh then. “That’s lust, my friend, not love. Why don’t you get to know her? See if her heart feels the same? Or is it merely lust on your part also?”
I shake my head emphatically. “No, it’s more than that. It’s…” I trail off and look into my friend’s understanding eyes, “it’s like she’s a part of me that I didn’t know was out there. It’s like I’ve found something I never even knew I was looking for.”
I swear old Charles’s eyes glass over with tears. “Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you. Did my heart fly at your service!” he mutters softly.
I find myself oddly struck mute by The Tempest quote from Shakespeare. I make fun of Charles all the time for his quotes, but for the first time I see the sense in them. I do feel like my soul spoke when I first met Gabriele. She was meant to be mine from that very first moment.
“Thanks, Charles. I think I needed to hear that.”
He tips his wine glass towards me. “A Shakespeare quote always helps,” he says with a grin.
“So, how did you and Mary Anne finally get together? Did you wait until after she finished your class?”
His face reddens instantly. “Um, no we were not that wise or that patient. We got caught, um, in flagrante, you might say by another student, and I had to go to the dean.” He shudders. “I’m not sure you could get away with that now. Mary Anne took an incomplete and I took a letter of censure on my file.” He sends me a shrewd look. “In this day and time, you would be fired, especially with the reputation of the school online with social media and the like. Back then, everything was kept very hush hush.”
