swear I can feel it beating harder, louder, and faster. I close my eyes for a moment, wondering if he feels the intense electricity between us, too.
“The scales on the tail should be angled this way. The illusion should make it look like her tail is wrapped around the rock. So essentially she’s on top of the rock that’s sitting on top of the paper.” He moves our hands to show me where to shade in the scales. “Make sense?”
I can barely comprehend a word he’s saying with him so close to me. My body is humming as I feel his muscles contract against my skin when he brushes the pencil over the paper.
Oh, sweet Jesus…I need to breathe. I don’t think I’ve exhaled since he started talking thirty seconds ago.
“Aspen?” he questions again.
I clear my throat, releasing a breath. “Um…” I blink, trying to think of something smart to say, but nothing is coming to mind. My mind is literally blank.
“Here…” he offers, gripping my hand tighter as his other hand wraps around my waist and squeezes my hip. My eyes widen in a holy shit expression as I try to calm myself down. “Ninety-degree angles…see? Then shade the tail in over here.”
“Okay…” I choke out, gulping. My eyelids feel like they’re taped against my skin as I try to comprehend how close our bodies are together. I inhale and can smell him. And it’s oh so fucking delicious. Christ. I need to focus. “I think I understand. Thank you.”
Our bodies are still fused together, our hands still touching. “You’re welcome.”
The room is so silent I can hear the vent above us blowing out air. His breath tickles my neck. I’m two seconds away from spinning around and slamming my lips against his. Especially since I can feel his distinct bulge against my lower back, confirming he’s struggling with the same forbidden attraction as I am.
Moments later, reality crashes back into my mind, and I know making out with my really hot art professor would be a really bad—but really hot—thing. The only reason I came out to California, besides needing to get away from home, was because I was offered a partial scholarship. My parents offered to pay for my entire education if I went to a college closer to home, but I wanted nothing to do with that idea. I didn’t want their money or any ties to them at all. I don’t know the exact rules of my scholarship, but I’m pretty certain having an affair with your professor is grounds for losing your scholarship and possibly being expelled.
“Well, I’ll continue this next class,” I finally say, breaking the tension. “Thanks again for your help.”
He releases his hand and steps away from me. “No problem. It’s kind of my job.”
“Right.” I turn and smile at him before grabbing the easel and drawing to store away.
He walks to his desk and collects his stuff as I pack up my supplies and start heading out. “Have a nice night, Professor Hampton.”
He looks up, a flustered expression on his face. “You as well, Aspen.”
MORGAN
As soon as my hand slides against her smooth skin, all rational thinking leaves my mind. I know I shouldn’t be crossing the lines with a student, but with Aspen, I can’t help myself.
How is it that a girl with so much talent, so much beauty, is filled with so much pain? I know she hasn’t told me much, but it’s enough to figure out. Her sister died years ago, leaving her feeling empty and bitter. She uses art and solitude as a way to cope, to express her emotions and feelings, but she has this uniqueness about her. Every time I see her, she’s glowing. Her smile, her laugh, her body language. It’s as if she’s strong on the outside, but falling apart on the inside. I can tell because I’ve been doing the same for five years.
Five years too long.
I think about her all day Friday, and once Natalia goes to bed, I head downstairs to where I’ve packed away all of my art supplies for the past six months. My paints, pastels,
“The scales on the tail should be angled this way. The illusion should make it look like her tail is wrapped around the rock. So essentially she’s on top of the rock that’s sitting on top of the paper.” He moves our hands to show me where to shade in the scales. “Make sense?”
I can barely comprehend a word he’s saying with him so close to me. My body is humming as I feel his muscles contract against my skin when he brushes the pencil over the paper.
Oh, sweet Jesus…I need to breathe. I don’t think I’ve exhaled since he started talking thirty seconds ago.
“Aspen?” he questions again.
I clear my throat, releasing a breath. “Um…” I blink, trying to think of something smart to say, but nothing is coming to mind. My mind is literally blank.
“Here…” he offers, gripping my hand tighter as his other hand wraps around my waist and squeezes my hip. My eyes widen in a holy shit expression as I try to calm myself down. “Ninety-degree angles…see? Then shade the tail in over here.”
“Okay…” I choke out, gulping. My eyelids feel like they’re taped against my skin as I try to comprehend how close our bodies are together. I inhale and can smell him. And it’s oh so fucking delicious. Christ. I need to focus. “I think I understand. Thank you.”
Our bodies are still fused together, our hands still touching. “You’re welcome.”
The room is so silent I can hear the vent above us blowing out air. His breath tickles my neck. I’m two seconds away from spinning around and slamming my lips against his. Especially since I can feel his distinct bulge against my lower back, confirming he’s struggling with the same forbidden attraction as I am.
Moments later, reality crashes back into my mind, and I know making out with my really hot art professor would be a really bad—but really hot—thing. The only reason I came out to California, besides needing to get away from home, was because I was offered a partial scholarship. My parents offered to pay for my entire education if I went to a college closer to home, but I wanted nothing to do with that idea. I didn’t want their money or any ties to them at all. I don’t know the exact rules of my scholarship, but I’m pretty certain having an affair with your professor is grounds for losing your scholarship and possibly being expelled.
“Well, I’ll continue this next class,” I finally say, breaking the tension. “Thanks again for your help.”
He releases his hand and steps away from me. “No problem. It’s kind of my job.”
“Right.” I turn and smile at him before grabbing the easel and drawing to store away.
He walks to his desk and collects his stuff as I pack up my supplies and start heading out. “Have a nice night, Professor Hampton.”
He looks up, a flustered expression on his face. “You as well, Aspen.”
MORGAN
As soon as my hand slides against her smooth skin, all rational thinking leaves my mind. I know I shouldn’t be crossing the lines with a student, but with Aspen, I can’t help myself.
How is it that a girl with so much talent, so much beauty, is filled with so much pain? I know she hasn’t told me much, but it’s enough to figure out. Her sister died years ago, leaving her feeling empty and bitter. She uses art and solitude as a way to cope, to express her emotions and feelings, but she has this uniqueness about her. Every time I see her, she’s glowing. Her smile, her laugh, her body language. It’s as if she’s strong on the outside, but falling apart on the inside. I can tell because I’ve been doing the same for five years.
Five years too long.
I think about her all day Friday, and once Natalia goes to bed, I head downstairs to where I’ve packed away all of my art supplies for the past six months. My paints, pastels,
Similar Books
