Chapter 6: Murderous Thoughts and Massages
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
I kept reciting it in my mind like a mantra, scowling so hard that I was worried I would burn a hole through my books.
How dare he?!
That no-good, perverted, hot jerk! Ugh!
How could I have let that SOB just walk into my house and give me the most mind blowing orgasm and then leave me panting like a dog with the promise that he wouldn’t fuck me until I begged him! The nerve!
“Having murderous thoughts are we, Miss Sanders?” The jerk snapped me out of my thoughts with a weird twinkle in his eyes and that hot damn smirk!
Did I say hot? God! I meant God! God, help me!
I gave him my most deadly glare, which caused a couple people around me to flinch away. But then it was my time to smirk. “Well, yes, Mr. Whitmore. You see, yesterday…”
“Let's continue with the lesson, shall we?” His return glare had “you’re in big trouble” written all over it. “And stay back after class.” With that he went back to teaching about stupid chemical bonding.
I saw some people snigger and some give me pitiful looks, but the bimbos of the class, sitting in the front seats turned to glare at me and gave me envious looks. What was their problem? Did they think detention with that pervert would be all hot and sweaty?
You never know...
I rolled my eyes. I wanted to scream at them, “That’s right bitches, it’s my turn to shag him now!” But being the good girl that I am, I stayed quite...or so I thought.
All of a sudden that the entire class was as quiet as a wasp in one’s nose and everyone was staring at me wide eyed.
I looked around frowning and noticed that pretty much everyone had their mouth hanging open like goldfish and up front, Ethan was looking at me weirdly, his cheeks pink.
And that was when reality hit me full force.
I just said all that out loud.
Oh, my god! Someone please kill me!
So, as everyone kept gaping at me, I gathered every ounce of dignity I had left and glared at everyone with all the intensity I could master. Felt satisfaction replace humiliation as I saw some of them flinch.
“What? You seriously expect me to shag that?” I asked with one eyebrow raised as I pointed at Ethan.
Why hasn’t the ground swallowed you yet?
Thanks for the reminder.
Thankfully, the bell rang at that instance, signaling the end of school.
Everyone got up from their seats with their books in their hands and started leaving but not before a few “Yeah, right. As if he would shag that” thrown back at me by the bimbos and the wannabes, complete with their dramatic eye rolls and hair flips. Too bad I had to stay behind and await judgment.
“Was that really necessary?” he asked as soon as the class was empty, exasperation clear in his tone.
“What exactly wasn't necessary, Mr. Whitmore?” I played innocent.
“Mind telling me what took residence in that fine piece of ass, cause it surely wasn’t there when you were screaming my name on your kitchen counter yesterday,” he smirked seeing my cheeks heat up.
“Smartass,” I muttered under my breath as I gathered my bag and got up.
“And where do you think you’re going Miss. Sanders?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Home,” I answered in a duh tone.
But as soon as I reached the door, I was spun around and thrown over his shoulder before I could comprehend what was happening and then I was being carried further and further away from the door.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Put me down!” I yelled, trying to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine but he held my legs together. Suddenly my butt was on his desk with his hands on either side of me, caging me in.
“Now tell me, what were you thinking that had you glaring at your textbook the entire time? Ways of throwing yourself at me?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Yes, actually. Throwing you off a cliff or maybe a hundred-story building so I can rid the world of another pervert in the making!” I snapped at him agitated.
“Oh. See, I was right. You were having murderous thoughts,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Then let's get some tension out of you, shall we?”
“What are you…?” I started to say when he turned and went behind me. “…doing? Oh…”
A massage? Was Ethan Whitmore seriously giving me a massage? But I wasn't daydreaming since I could feel those wonderfully calloused hands doing wonders to my back and shoulders.
I slowly began to relax at his touch as he moved his hands up and down my back and over my shoulders. His scent filled my nostrils as I drew in a long breath. Not like the I’m-wearing-too-much-cologne type, but more like the I-shower-twice-daily kind.
“Mmmm,” I couldn’t help but moan as he continued to work wonders. Damn, he was good. How did he know all this?
I was too relaxed to notice his slight pause at my moan or the sharp intake of his breath. But I did notice when his hands slid down my shoulders and cupped my breast, squeezing, making a surprised gasp escape my throat.
“Now see what you’ve done? I wanted you a bit more relaxed before my second lesson, but you react to me so freely that I can’t control myself.” His voice was breathless, husky, as he shifted his attention to my breasts.
Looks like I was in for a bit of tabletop adventure.