Page 5 of Valentine's Kisses
I chuckle. “Hard for me to believe, Ms. Wexler, since the dean begged me to come here, but you’re welcome to try. If you feel like leaving that’s also fine, but you’ll be marked incomplete for this project.” I sound unfazed because I am. This school wanted me to teach here. Yes, my name may be fairly new to the art world, but in the sports world I’m still a superstar. My name would hopefully draw more high clout students here, and the university would think twice about risking that, even for the powerful Wexler family.
Monica sputters, “You, you…”
Her friend next to her speaks up in a worried tone, “Remember what your dad said, Mon. Control your temper. Let it go.”
“You would be wise to listen to your friend, Ms. Wexler,” I say and send a grateful look to the student sitting beside her.
Monica finally heaves a heavy sigh and flips her long brown hair over her shoulder. “Ugh, whatever. I’ll stay, but you should watch what you say to me.” She narrows her eyes. “I see more than you think I see.” She looks back and forth between Gabrielle and I and sends me a perceptive glance.
“I’m sure you think you do,” I murmur. Inside, I’m suddenly struck by all that could happen if I act on my feelings. I could care less about getting fired, but what about my girl? What about my sweet Gabrielle? What would the consequences be for her?
I glance over at Gabrielle again. She still has her head down and appears embarrassed. I ache to touch her, to give her comfort. But what will happen when I give into all these needs and desires? What will the fallout be?
Chapter Five
The Flirtations of a Wallflower
How am I supposed to study art with a masterpiece of masculinity walking around instructing us? -Gabrielle
Gabrielle
My armpits are sweating. Literally sweating. Beads of sweat threaten to fall down my face from my hairline. I know my face is bright red.
Today, we’re drawing a man. To be particular, only a man’s chest. The man in front of us still has his jeans on. His chest is muscled and sprinkled with dark smatterings of chest hair. It’s a perfectly nice male chest. But I can’t seem to draw it. In fact, for the first time in my life, drawing is not coming so natural to me. From the time I was a little girl, I’ve been able to sketch anything and everything around me. I always ache to capture the essence of whatever I’m drawing, especially people. My sister always said I could make her feel the emotion of any person I drew. But she’s not here…and I’m so out of element. That thought makes me so incredibly sad.
I gulp, hard. Monica and Bridget, the girls next to me, giggle and draw away, but I’m nervous as hell. Sure, I’ve seen half naked men before, but I still feel uncomfortable. I remember the way the football players in high school made fun of me for myround figure and how the quarterback, Mason, would pitch the pudge on my stomach, when he was teasing me. Back then, my sister was always there to take care of me and to defend me. She was only a year older, but she was ever the protector and defender.
She was the one who was good with the boys. She was the one they fawned over. I was the one they ignored or persecuted. I never even kissed a boy before my friend Billy. Billy told me he wanted to be my first kiss and sweetly kissed me on the lips. We never even touched tongues. It wasn’t a romantic kiss. It was a kiss of friendship, a kiss of closeness. I wasn’t surprised when Billy told me he was gay right after.
My hands shake as I bring the pencil to the paper again. I look over at the male model and he happens to catch my gaze. He winks.
“Remember, Mr. Duncan, you can’t move a muscle while you’re modeling for my class,” Professor Michaels says sternly.
I glance over at Professor Michaels. He’s almost as tense as I am. He has been ever since the model got here. He also keeps sneaking looks at me, almost as if to gauge my reaction to the model.
I glance at my paper again. I have the start of his upper chest. It’s not horrible, but it’s not great either. There’s no detail, no life. It’s just flat.
I feel Professor Michaels presence before I see him. His delicious masculine scent always makes me a little heady.
“Is everything okay, Gabrielle?” he asks in a gentle voice.
I nod eagerly. “I’m fine. Just trying to get it right,” I respond in an overly cheerful voice.
He comes closer to me, and I fight a shiver as his warm breath hits my neck. “You seem more nervous about this assignment than the others. Any particular reason why?”
I glance around the room. For once, no one is watching us. Monica and Bridget are giggling and trying to flirt with the model. Everyone else is completely concentrated on their own easels.
“I…I just haven’t seen that man…many half-naked men I guess, Professor,” I stutter shyly.Fuck, why am I so completely inexperienced when it comes to the opposite sex? This is so totally embarrassing.
When I finally muster up the courage to look behind me at Professor Michaels, he’s watching me with a satisfied glint in his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with that Gabrielle.” He comes just a little closer, his eyes darkening with a need that’s as old as the story of Adam and Eve. I can’t mistake it for anything other than lust.
“I like the fact that you’ve never been with another man, Gabrielle. I like it very much.”
His husky voice washes over me, and I do shiver this time. My panties are instantly wet and the desire in me is almost painful. I look down at his hand that is lightly touching my shoulder. That touch sends heat spiraling down to my core. I can feel that touch everywhere.
I can barely catch my breath. “You…you like that?” I ask softly.
He nods and his blue eyes communicate the same desire I feel.
