Page 48 of Love is Strange
Dan leans down, then kisses me gently. A soft moan slips between my lips as he deepens it. Reaching up, my fingers curl into his shaggy brown hair. I feel his hands slide down my back, then wrap around my legs as he lifts me up and begins to carry me out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. I guess dinner can wait a little while longer.
Dan pushes the door open with his foot, then walks briskly over to the bed before laying me down and dropping to his knees. His hands work my pajama bottoms off, then my panties.
“Dan,” I whisper breathlessly into the silent air as he kisses my inner thigh. My head rolls to the side and my gaze falls on the hamper.
“I like this black leotard on you.”
I close my eyes, trying to rid my head of the echo. Focusing on my husband, I wrap my fingers into his hair again as he feasts on me like I’m his last meal. My chest rises and falls heavily as I breath; inhaling desire, exhaling the fire that’s growing inside of me. When I open my eyes, I look at the hamper again and the echo of his smooth voice fills my head, causing that familiar build in the pit of my stomach to come faster than normal. Ryan's face crosses my mind. His dimples and intoxicating brandy colored eyes. His scent fills my senses even though he is nowhere near me.
My breathing begins to quicken as Dan slides his finger inside of me, knowing I’m close. I swallow hard, knowing that my thoughts should be here and not where they are. Not with some raucous teenage boy I know nothing about. Not with some child who could cost me everything. Not with—fuck! My fingers tighten their grip in his hair as I come hard with the image of Ryan’s smirking face in my head.
When Dan looks up at me with a passionate fire in his eyes because of me, guilt floods through me.What is wrong with me?
F I V E
RYAN
I wonderwhat would happen if I stole the dean’s car? Or I could set the counselors office on fire. I’m sure that would warrant for strikes two and three to happen. And the grand possibility of being arrested again.
I don’t know why she is trying so hard to get me on this so-called right path, but it won't work. It’s too late for that bullshit. The counselors in elementary had their chance when I cried to them about being lonely. The middle school staff could have done something after I told them I’m always home alone and have to fend for myself. The second I got to high school, I stopped talking. I stopped caring. I didn’t give a shit because no one else seemed to either. So, I set myself on a path that would either get their attention or show them how they fucked up. A cry for help comes in many forms and I had plans of showing them every single one.
“Mister Styles.”
“Fuck!” I say, grabbing my chest. “You scared the piss out of me.”
Mrs. Welch raises a perfectly penciled brow at me, “Language.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, walking away from her and the pretty white Porsche that belongs to the dean.
“You’re quite early today. Any particular reason why?” She asks, walking beside me. Her heels hit the pavement angrily. The sound makes it seems like she really is trying to crack the world in half.
“Just being a good student is all.” I reply sarcastically, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
“Good. I’ll walk you to class. I’m sure Coach William will be pleased to see you in his class for the first time. Seeing how you haven’t been to any class, except dance.”
“I guess dance is more exciting than history and math.” I deadpan.
I have one good reason why dance class appeals to me more than any other class and she likes to act as if my presence doesn’t bother her. I know it does. I can see it in the way she looks at me when I pin her in a corner she can easily weasel her way out of. Yet she stands there like a dear in headlights, acting like she can't move. I like that particular look on her, but I know I’ll like the look on her face when I slide my cock inside of her for the first time even better.
“Mister Styles, I get that you don't want to be here, but you have no choice. While you’re here, you can at least go to class instead of wasting time wandering the halls.” She says before she leaves me standing in hall alone. I roll my eyes again, which seems to be the main reaction she gets out of me.Ah, the ever tyrant teen with the fuck you attitude,I think to myself,gotta love it, right?
I stand by the door, waiting for her to disappear down the white hallway. Once I can’t see her anymore, I wander off toward the dance hall, curious if the pretty face I’m looking for is here yet or not. She seems to be the only reason I want to be here. Her big doe eyes and plump lips are begging me to look at them like I want to devour every inch of them, which I do. I would love to see what positions that pretty dancer can bend into.
If I can get her to strip out of that tight little leotard, then I will have something rather delicious under my belt. My one-way ticket out of here because infidelity with a superior is the ultimate no-no and I am down to play that game.
When I make it to her classroom door, I peek inside of the little rectangular glass window and see exactly what I came to see. Her tight, round ass bent over, stretching in the leotard I like. The black one.I wonder if she wore that because of me, I think to myself as I bite my bottom lip, trying to adjust the hard on that’s coming on.
My fingers touch the door handle lightly. A slight tingle trails up my arm from my fingertips, and for a split second, I hesitate on opening the door and barging in like I own the place. But then I think of why exactly I’m doing this, and the hesitation disappears. Twisting the handle down, I open the door quietly.
“I could get used to this view!” I say loudly, startling her. She spins around with that scowl of hers on her pretty face. I smirk, “Hello, Pretty Dancer. How is your morning?”
“It just turned a bit sour.” She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why are you here?”
“Math didn’t appeal to me. That teacher doesn’t look as fuckable as you.” I reply, striding over to her. My boots squeaking against the floor turn into the only sound in the room. The air seems to thicken the closer I get to her. Her arms drop as she steps back, getting as close to the wall as possible.
“You need to leave. You aren’t supposed to be here until two.”
I stop right in front of her, her back against the bar. Each breath she takes cause her tits to brush against my chest. I part my lips, looking down at her and trying my hardest not to lean down and devour her entirely.
