Page 57 of Teaching Hope


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Hope raised an eyebrow. “Blame me all you like,” she said. “I’ve been blaming you.”

“Well, I’m only half blaming you,” said Ava. She tapped the papers on her desk into a neat pile. “I’ll blame Stan Gardener as well.”

“Who’s that?” Hope asked, pulling her light jacket out of the cupboard.

And Ava realized that not only had she not told Hope about the job offer, but that she’d forgotten about it herself until just this instant. So busy lusting after her classroom assistant that she couldn’t remember she had a potential solution to all her problems.

“Um, he’s a teacher. A head teacher,” Ava said.

Hope raised her eyebrow again and Ava quickly filled her in. She spoke fast but saw the moment that Hope’s face dropped anyway.

“That’s great,” Hope said, when she was done.

“You don’t say that like you mean it,” said Ava.

“I…” Hope breathed out through her nose. “No, it’s great. It’s good that you have something to go home to, a place that you could belong in. That’s what you’ve been looking for, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Ava said. “But, just so you know, I didn’t commit to anything. I mean, the possibility is open, but so are other possibilities.”

It seemed important that Hope understood that, even though Ava didn’t know what other possibilities there could possibly be. But things changed. She’d changed. Maybe something else would come up.

Hope’s face lightened. “Other possibilities,” she said, moving in so that she was standing within feet of Ava. “You know, I rather think that other possibilities were on my mind last night.”

“You’re not the only one,” Ava admitted before she could stop herself.

“Am I not?”

Ava narrowed her eyes and looked at the plumpness of Hope’s lips, the lips that she’d spent at least twenty minutes thinking about last night. In between thinking about other body parts.

“You’re not,” she said. This time she was the one that took the step forward, so that now only inches were between them.

“Would you care to elaborate on the possibilities that you were considering?” asked Hope, dark eyes wide and innocent.

“Well, I could,” said Ava, voice deep. She leaned in even further. “But it might be easier to show you.”

Before she could stop herself, she was putting one hand behind Hope’s head, tangling her fingers in long, dark hair and pulling Hope’s face closer and closer until finally their lips met.

Then Ava felt her heart beat harder, felt the blood rushing through her veins, felt the warmth between her legs as Hope’s tongue slipped into her mouth and she knew that she couldn’t stop this. That she didn’t want to stop this.

Whatever else was happening, whatever else they were building or not building, her body was definitively telling her one thing. It was ready. Ready for all those fantasies she’d had last night, ready to jump into something.

She crushed her mouth onto Hope’s, pulling her in tighter and tighter so that she could feel the curves of Hope’s body against her own. Then pushed her, pushed the both of them, until Hope was stumbling backward and Ava was holding her up against the wall by the blackboard.

“Here?” Hope asked, pulling away, eyes clouded with lust.

“There’s always the supply closet,” mumbled Ava, bending her head to kiss Hope’s neck.

“What happened to taking things slow?” Hope said into Ava’s hair.

“Fuck slow,” Ava said into Hope’s neck.

Hope groaned and Ava felt Hope’s hips bucking up against hers, felt Hope’s need and want coming to the surface.

Then a phone rang and Ava found herself being pushed away.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hope said, rushing to her purse. “Sorry, but that’s my mum’s ringtone. She’s looking after Alice.”

Ava closed her eyes and nodded, getting her breath back. Perhaps it was for the best. This was hardly the appropriate location for anything to happen.

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