AllFreeNovel
Share Us
YOU CAN HAVE IT ALL
PAST
Abraham: Meet me in my office after your last class.
I’ve read the text half a dozen times, and each time, a shot of adrenaline passes through me, pooling between my thighs. A few fucking words, beckoning me to him, and I’m a horny mess. The mental finger crook has me fidgeting in the seat of my last class, wondering how he’s handling waiting for me.
Is he as nervous as I am? As turned on?
I cross my bare legs, glancing down at my black wrap skirt. Paired with my black fitted shirt, I feel like I’m some kind of ballerina.
I’m not paying attention when students start standing around me, getting their things together to leave.
Just as I step outside, my phone rings. When I see Miley’s name on my screen, I grin before answering.
“What’s up?” I ask, holding my cellphone between my ear and shoulder as I adjust my bag.
“Sushi tonight?”
“Um…” I start, unsure. “Give me like an hour and I’ll let you know.”
“If I don’t hear from you before then, you’re on your own,” she says, her voice monotone as if she’s trying to multitask.
“I’ve fed myself for this long. I think I’ll be okay,” I remind her, making my way out of the building and cutting across the grass toward Professor Pugliesi.
“Everyone knows a meal with Miley is an event. Besides, I feel like we haven’t spent time together in a while.”
When she says this, I feel a pang of guilt. But it’s quickly dissolved by the knowledge that more often than not, we hang out because Miley has a hole in her busy schedule. Or she wants me to be her date to an event that she inevitably leaves with someone else.
And I don’t mind. I love her. She’s brilliant, kind, strong. A lot of things I haven’t been exposed to in my life—especially from the women in my life.
But this is something I’m doing for me, and I won’t feel guilty about this.
“We’ll make plans for this weekend,” I tell her, before she lets me go, content to order sushi for herself.
My phone is inside my bag by the time I’m standing outside of his office, the door slightly ajar again. Only this time, he’s waiting inside for me. There isn’t another woman inside, tempting him.
Instead, he’s trying to tempt me. And it’s working.
He opens the door, as if he knows I’m there. His eyes crinkle with appreciation as he looks me over.
Half of my hair is up in a little ponytail, the rest hanging at the base of my neck.
Without a word, he steps aside, giving me room to walk past him and into his office.
I try not to react when I hear the door shut and the lock click. Instead, I turn to face him, his desk behind me as we regard each other for a moment.
He speaks first.
“Did you wear that skirt for me?” he asks and it makes my knees tremble, the way his dark stare never wavers from my own green gaze.
Do I tell him the truth?That I envisioned his eyes following me as I picked this skirt, not short enough to be considered inappropriate but hopefully short enough that it piques his curiosity. That the legs I once considered too long might be ones that he envisions wrapped around his body.
“I did,” I answer, tired of being uncertain. I want to be the woman he sees me as. The woman th men my age are intimidated by. I’m not timid and I’m not afraid.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he starts, walking toward me, his eyes unblinking. “Thinking about the tiny taste I got of you. Thinking about your tears and your truth. About how profoundly you exist and how I’m dying to taste other parts of you.”
“What other parts?” I ask, my words breathy as he stands just in front of me. I’m still as he lifts his hand toward my face. And just before he makes contact, he drops it. For a moment, I think he’s lost his nerve. Until I feel his fingertips graze the soft flesh of my thigh. It’s soft, uncertain…only for a moment.
