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I laugh, because I know exactly which photo she’s referring to. It’s infamous in our school how much Pritchard loves it and how often he brings it up in conversations.
“We should steal it.” She says and I laugh again.
“What? I’m being serious.”
I stop laughing and watch her. The anger on Sassy’s face is now replaced with excitement. She’s animated. Alive.
“We should go into his office and take the damn picture. He take’s something from me, I’ll take something from him.”
“He’d be devastated,” I agree. I’m going along with the joke, but something in the pit of my stomach makes me think Sassy isn’t joking anymore.
“Come on. Let’s do it right now.” She grabs my hand, her eyes dancing.
“What? You aren’t actually being serious?” I say, but I let her pull me up to standing.
“I don’t joke, Colt, you know that. Come on.” She pulls me towards my car and I go along with her just to see what she does. I know she won’t really break into the school and steal something from the dean’s desk.
We are really breaking into the school and stealing something from the dean’s desk. I glance around nervously as I follow Sassy down the hall. ‘Breaking in’ is a stretch. The doors to the building were open and waiting for us. Night classes are held here, plus cleaners are working, so the building isn’t closed yet. Though as we reach the offices, we can see the admin staff have long gone home.
Sassy walks straight up to the dean’s office and tries the handle, but it’s locked.
“You didn’t think we’d be able to just walk straight in?” I ask, amused. “Let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere until this is done,” Sassy answers, looking around thoughtfully. Part of me wants to run before they find us in a place we shouldn’t be in, but a bigger part of me enjoys watching her determination in her quest.
Sassy’s roaming eyes stop when they land on the secretary’s desk. She opens the drawers, rummaging through. My eyes dart around, making sure no one is approaching. It would be a hard position to explain ourselves out of.
“Here we go.” Sassy straightens up, holding a set of keys in her hand. “Surely one of these has to open the office.”
I cross my arms and watch as she goes to the door and begins trying different keys in the lock. Eventually, one of them clicks, and the door swings open. Sassy turns and flashes me a wicked smile. With one last glance down the hallway, I follow her into the office, closing the door behind me. It’s getting dark, but we thankfully can see without having to turn on a light.
Sassy has made her way straight to the photo of the Dalai Lama. She picks it up and stares at it.
“The Dalai Lama wouldn’t even like Dean Prick-ard if he actually knew him.” She muses.
I wander around the office and squint to read the titles on the books in the gloomy light. They’re old and out of date. Sassy might be right about him living in the dark ages. I take a seat in his plush leather chair and try to imagine life from this vantage point.
Sassy pops the photo frame into her tote, then drops it on the ground. She looks up and grins when she sees I’ve made myself comfortable in the dean’s chair. She comes over and positions herself in front of me, leaning back against the desk.
“The role of dean suits you.” She quirks an eyebrow at me.
“I could get used to it.” I smile and lean back, totally comfortable.
Sassy lifts her leg, putting her converse clad foot on the edge of the chair so it’s resting right between my legs.
“Dean Salter,” she purrs. “I’ve been a very bad student.”
“I know,” I laugh. “I just watched you steal something of great value from the dean’s office.”
The corner of Sassy’s mouth lifts in a smile that looks like she has a secret to share. “That’s not what I’m referring to.” She moves the foot that is on my chair so that her toes press against my crotch lightly.
I’m no longer relaxing back in my chair. I sit up straight and put a hand around her ankle, running it up and down her calf. Her expression instantly turns me on, because I know exactly what it is. I’m like Pavlov’s dog, trained to react to the fire in her eyes.
“Oh yeah? What bad things have you done, Miss Bennett?”
She bites her lip, pouting at me, playing the role of naughty student to perfection.
“Well, you already know I’m a stripper.” She moves her hand to her neck and brushes her fingers lightly against it, and I want that to be my hand on her skin. “I’ve been having naughty dreams, Dean Salter. About you.”
