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“Ah, you’ve caught me,” I joke. “But no. That passage is clear. Our main character wants to fuck the woman he is in love with. She’s consuming his every thought, haunting his steps by how much he desires her. But if I were to go outside right now and yell the word fuck, would anyone think I was talking about sex?”
The class turns into bobbleheads. “No.”
“Exactly. Because we know that fuck is a swear. But it can also mean sex. In the same way that words can make us feel things, the context of usage is also crucial.”
The rest of the lecture goes pretty smoothly, but underneath the smiles and laughs I give while encouraging my students, I know I’ve taken a step down a dangerous path. Having Emma read out that passage was for my own pleasure and nothing else. A moment of weakness in the face of the woman I desire. Watching her talk so much filth while looking so utterly beautiful five rows away turned me on.
I shouldn’t give in to her, but I can’t help it. It’s a losing battle and I’m a drowning man. Maybe it’s the sundress or the fact that when I started class today and she was absent, all I felt was crushing disappointment. Her arrival was exhilarating and I lost my senses.
My infatuation has no limits.
Class ends, and as the students file past me, saying their goodbyes, my attention remains on one woman.
“Emma.”
Her eyes snap to me immediately, landing on me with the force of a physical touch, and it’s lucky I’m already seated at my desk.
“Yes?”
I motion her over with one hand. Emma frowns lightly, then she turns to her friend and says something I can’t hear. Ana nods and continues out of the class while Emma approaches my desk with her usual bright, sunny smile.
“What’s up?”
“I wanted to check in with you and see if you still needed help with your assignment?”
Emma lifts a brow, and the way she cocks her hip as she stands before me accentuates the deep curve of her backside and swell of her breasts. My mouth runs dry even as I keep my attention fixed on her eyes.
“Why do you think I need help?” Her voice has a humorous lilt, and as we stare at one another, her lower lip slowly curls in past her teeth.
“You’re not one to struggle in class,” I assure her. “So I wouldn’t normally follow up on this, but I am aware that this course doesn’t hold much passion for you.”
“I like it,” Emma says quickly. “I like the course and the class. But…sure, it can be stuffy sometimes.”
“Stuffy?” I lift one brow, and Emma laughs her wonderfully loud laugh.
“You know what I mean. It’s not my immediate passion, no. But there are some aspects that I love.” Her eyes glitter, finally breaking eye contact. I watch as her attention drifts down me and an unexpected flush of warmth prickles across my chest and shoulders.
“Perhaps I need more books like that passage earlier,” I say softly.
Reel it in, Finn.
“Maybe.” Emma lifts one shoulder while adjusting her bag strap. “But either way, I don’t need help anymore.”
My brows pull south slightly. I’d been under the impression that her request for help last week had simply been an attempt to get closer to me, given how obvious her flirting has been. Yet, she stands here now with a completely different attitude.
Maybe that’s for the best, given how torturous it would be to tutor her one-on-one.
“Are you sure?”
“Yep!” Her lips pop softly around the P. “Don’t worry, I found someone else to service me.” With a bright smile, Emma turns away and strides away from my desk.
Someone else?
Who else out there would deserve her?
Silence falls, and an unexpectedly sharp, bitter pang of jealousy lances through my chest.
There can’t be someone else, can there?
