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Yesterday, I almost gave in to my desires. She came into my room that night to ask if I wanted a drink. I refused and then waited for her to leave, but she didn't.
"Is there something else?" I asked.
"I wanted to ask you something ... it's about what you taught today about the mind of a criminal and how ...?"
"Now's not the time Rochelle. Can we discuss this tomorrow? Or you can bring it up in class."
I had seen the sheen of tears in her eyes just before she apologized and hurried out of my room. It had killed me to hurt her, but this way was best for everyone. Being in the same room with her was torture enough.
I know I should be more civil and less of an asshole to her, but I'm getting to the point where I might grab her and kiss her. Hell, what I wanted to do was bend her over the desk and give her a seeing to … show her what a real man can do. Give her what she needs. But I can’t. The way she looks at me makes me feel like I’m burning up. I’ve never felt this way before. The more I think about it, the more I'm drawn to her, and the stronger my desire is for her.
No. It’s wrong. I have no business feeling this way for a girl like her. I have always been in control of my feelings and shunned love and relationships to protect and raise my daughter. I wanted to devote my time to her, and over the years, I just buried that part of me that needed love. The part that Rochelle Mason is threatening to dig up. If she were ten years older ... if she wasn't the daughter of a close friend ... if she weren't my daughter's best friend, it would be easier. Besides, there's no way she thinks about me in the way I think about her.
On the other hand, I did catch her that day when she peeped into my room. What was she looking for? What did she need? I wonder if I’d have invited her into my room that day, I could have put an end to her curiosity. No! I’m already taking this too far just by thinking about her like this. This has to stop!
I look at my watch. It's 8 pm already. Late enough. I pack my bags and head out to the campus driveway. As I drive home, I resolve to apologize to her for my behavior and be more civil. I'll put an ice pack every day on my dick until she graduates if I have to. I’m already masturbating twice a day and still it isn’t enough. This torment is becoming unbearable.
The door is locked. I unlock the door and walk in. I immediately notice that Rochelle isn’t home. I go to the kitchen and find a note on the fridge telling me she made dinner for me. She's been cooking for Amy and me since the second day she started living with us. I teased Amy once about her cooking being a major reason why she asked Rochelle to move in. I smile and press the note close to my nose. Even if I can't have her, I will allow myself to enjoy her company. That’s not against the rules, surely? I shower quickly and head downstairs to microwave the spaghetti dinner she made.
I move to the living room, expecting her to return soon so we can have a chat. I don't want it to wait. I mindlessly glance through a few magazines before drifting off to sleep. I wake up a while later to the sound of heavy rainfall and realize that something is wrong. It's 12:30 am, and Rochelle still isn't home. She never stays out this late, and it's pouring outside. My phone rings, and it's Rochelle.
"Rochelle? Are you okay? Where are you?"
"Oh, thank goodness, Dr. McKnight. I have been trying to reach you, but the cell service is crazy. I had to work a double shift but can't get a cab home."
"I'm coming to get you. Just wait right there."
"Thank you so much, Sir," she replies heavily. She must be so cold and scared. I grab my keys and two coats from the closet in the entryway and head to my car. I race frantically towards Cassian Road, where Rochelle works. I park the car and grab the umbrella. I notice her sitting on a bench at the bus stand and run across the road towards her. She immediately embraces me, and I can feel how relieved and scared she is. I hold her close and stroke her head.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she replies, shivering.
"Let's go get you warmed up."
We sprint towards my car and head home.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Dr. ..."
"Kevin ... call me Kevin, Rochelle. You're not bothering me." I reply with a smile. She smiles back. Her beautiful face is white and pale, and her blonde hair is plastered to her face.
"There are some dry coats in the backseat."
"Oh, thank you." She removes her coat, revealing her tank top that's been plastered to her wet body. I can make out the outlines of her perfectly round breasts, her nipples hard and taught, and my blood begins to boil. I quickly turn my eyes back to the road.
"Um ... Rochelle ... I wanted to apologize to you for the way I have been acting. I have been rude and unkind, and I'm sorry."
Her smile lights up her whole face. "Apology accepted ... Kevin."
"So, is what Amy said true?"
"What?"
"About me being a part of the reason why you wanted to study psychology."
“Is that what she told you?” she whispers, blushing.
The sight of her blushing makes me smile. "So, what do you love most about psychology?"
