Teaching Love

Hello again!

I just want to thank everyone who's reviewed my story so far! I really enjoy your comments.

Anyways, this chapter is probably one of the slower moving ones. It had to be here though to further the plot!

On the plus side, next chapter should have a sex scene in it! Unless my muse decides to drag me in a different direction. Which it does occasionally. ^^;

Hope you enjoy!

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I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked into Mr. Rice’s class the next day. Though I did consider several scenarios. He might have reported me, which means a whole ordeal of lying out my ass to try and get out of punishment. If he didn’t then he’d probably just ignore me. Or make my life an absolute nightmare.

I wasn’t expecting this though.

I watched as Mr. Rice, the first year teacher who bravely faced his students with the conviction of a seasoned pro, was stumbling over himself. And I mean stumbling. He started us on the wrong section. Then dropped the roll sheet. And his section outline. His writing was barely legible because his hand was shaking. He just screamed nervousness.

And he hadn’t been able to meet anyone’s eye for very long. My corner of the classroom didn’t exist.

Wow. I worried my lip for a moment. I didn’t expect I’d have this much of an effect on him. I was starting to feel bad. Though, I had to concede that he was cute like this. Very cute. File as another reference to be used in fantasies.

Everyone was whispering about it. Hell, I knew more then them and I was still baffled. What type of person is too embarrassed to face someone after being kissed? Especially when they should be pissed. Insulted. I don’t know.

I decided I’d try to talk with him after school, but apparently he had to leave right after class was done. He was the first person out the door when the bell rang. I would have laughed under normal circumstances to see a teacher bolt like that, but in this case I was frustrated.

I knew I caused this, and while I’m not really all that sympathetic of a person I was still capable of feeling guilty. And while lust was my driving force that didn’t mean that I didn’t also feel a bit more romantic feeling towards him.

Before you say it, I’m not in love. I have a crush on him. And sort of like him. More then the average guy, alright?

So I decided that I’ll pop in and pay Mr. Rice a visit at his place, since it was obviously fated that I do so when I discovered his address yesterday.

I wasn’t surprised he lived in apartment complex, or that it was one of the shabbier ones. Teachers didn’t get paid all that well. He was on the second floor, so at least I know he couldn’t escape through a window when he saw me.

I knocked on the door.

The door opened, and before I could even say hello it was slammed shut. Well. That went well.

I knocked on it again. “Will you open up? Look, if I promise that I’ll behave and won’t invade your bubble will you at least talk to me?” And who’s the adult here, huh?

After a long moment the door was opened and a very ruffled, but displeased Mr. Rice glared at me. He glanced around before he moved to let me.

Despite the circumstances, I was giddy to be able to be in my crush’s apartment. I looked around curiously. It seemed to me the place must have already been furnished when he moved in because the place had no character. It was also clean. If it wasn’t for the books and papers on the coffee table you’d think no one lived there.

I find myself smiling in amusement. Somehow this is just what I expected.

“What are you happy about?” He demanded, but there was also a hint of uneasiness. I looked at him and grinned more. He was definitely grouchy. Cute~!

“Nothing. Just made a bet what your place would look right, turns out I was right.” I flop down on the couch. People feel like they’re more in control when they’re standing over someone. If it makes him feel better then fine, I know I’m the one in control here.

It didn’t seem to help too much because he simply narrowed his eyes more at me. “And how the hell did you know where I lived?”

Ah ha. Crap. I forgot that I’d have to answer that. So I do what I do best. Bullshit a response. “Well, awhile back I was chatting up with this nice old lady who-”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Spare me your lies.”

I grin and hold up my hands. “Is not.” He didn’t look convinced. “How about we focus on what’s important. Like you being in such a tizzy you couldn’t teach.”

“Tizzy? What kid your age uses tizzy?” He mumbles this under his breath. Obviously he doesn’t want a serious answer from me so I don’t attempt to. Though, it’d be a very amusing story. “I wasn’t in a tizzy.”

I stare at him.

And he looks away uncomfortably. “I don’t appreciate being molested.” He finally concedes.

I sigh and stretch out on his couch. “Look, I’m not going to rape you or anything. If you didn’t invade my bubble in the first place…” I trail off at the dangerous look on his face. “What?”

“Your blaming what happened on me?!” He advances over to me. He looks pissed. Finally, I was wondering if he was going to be meek and skittish forever.

I stare up at him from my laying position on the couch. I honestly don’t think he has enough guts to touch me, because touching me means I could touch him. And I’m getting the interpretation he’s still wary of me.

So I shrug and give off an air of nonchalant. “Yes.”

I was downright shocked when he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and slammed against the wall behind the couch while he grounded out. “Where do you get off thinking you can pull stunts like that and be in the innocent one?”

He’s so attractive like this. I know I should be scared, but all I can do right now is be turned on by how dominant his actions are. How fucking gorgeous his eyes are when they darken like that. How I want to respect him when he has an expression like he does now. His chin set firmly, his lips pulled into a dangerous thin line.

I’m forced out of my thinking by a sudden shaking. I glare at Mr. Rice who glares right back.

“Answer me.” He demands. No, he orders. There is no questioning. There is no alternative. He will not accept anything else.

And I obey. “You let me get away with it.” And it’s true, he didn’t report me. If he had, I would have apologized for everything if they actually forced me to that point where I admitted what I did. When you face punishment, you regret your actions.

He stares at me. I love throwing him off. It’s so much fun. He slowly releases me on to the couch after a moment, but he continues to stare at me. “Let me get this straight. All of that was you trying to find boundaries?”

“No. That was your fault.” I’m irritated by his assumptions, but when he gives me an equally irritated look I feel forced to explain. “When I did it, I wanted to do those things so much that I was willing to accept the consequences. I’m not apologizing because…” I pause when I realize if I finish that sentence I’m guaranteeing punishment.

“Because there aren’t any consequences.” He finishes for me coldly. “You are the epitome of brat with no boundaries.”

“You can’t punish me.” If he’s going to call me a brat, then he better be damn well prepared for me to act like one.

He’s eyes narrows at me before he drops his glare and looks away from me. “You’re right. You don’t value anything; the teachers have no control over you. If you got kicked out of school it wouldn’t bother you. You’re lazy and your parents haven’t been able to get you to behave yet. Your peers don’t scare you.” He sits down on the couch with me.

Exactly. I worked hard to achieve this perfect balance of no one being able to control me.

Mr. Rice places his elbows on his knees and leans forward in thought. He’s staring at the wall in front of him like it has answers on it. He looks good like that too.

“There’s nothing to really bribe you with either. You’re not interest in awards or acknowledgement. You don’t care about your future or grades. You don’t seem to want anything bad enough that good behavior will get you either.” He continues on out loud.

I feel rather pleased with myself at his comments. It’s exactly the image I wanted to portray. For him to realize and say it was a compliment in my mind.

“Stop looking so damn pleased with yourself.” He grumbles out at me.

I grin and lean towards him. “Don’t want to.” This whole conversation makes me feel powerful. Which makes me want to do something reckless again, like pushing Mr. Rice on to the couch and molesting him again.

Mr. Rice is staring at me again. “You were serious when you said you…” He pause as a small flush covers his cheeks.

“Fantasize about you?” If I had a tail, it’d be wagging right now.

“So you want me?.” He reconfirms this. His expression strangely grim. I guess it doesn’t settle well with him.

I don’t know what he’s playing at. Obviously I like him, right? I nod at what I consider a stupid question.

He’s regarding me carefully. I can see the gears in his working fast, but for the life of me I have no clue what he’s thinking so hard. This is pretty straight-forward. “Am I the only person you want?”

What the hell is he after? Oh. I get it. He’s probably hoping I’ll say there’s someone else for me focus my attentions on. Well, too bad for him his my only crush right now. “Yep, there’s only you.”

“I see.” He replies. What’s up with all the short sentences? I’m about to complain when I’m jerked forward and my mouth is covered.

My eyes widen in surprise. He’s kissing me. And all brain function stops at that point. This kiss is much better with him participating. I happily start kissing him back.

Only to suddenly end up on the floor. Again.

“What the hell?!” I snarl and scramble to my feet.

He’s smiling. His ever pleasant smile. “I have a deal for you Phyllis.” I don’t like the sound of this at all. It’s like he’s suddenly confident and in control again. He continues after a pause. “You want me.” His smile increases, and it makes me nervous. “You can have me…” He pauses. “If you do as I say.”

I stare at him. He can’t be serious right? I mean, I’d have to willingly give up control. I’d… but…

Several images of what we could be doing flashes through my mind. Several really hot and kinky images.

But he wouldn’t risk losing his job right? He has a girlfriend? And he’s straight. I think. Maybe not.

God, I hope not.

Too many thoughts are going through my head. I want him though. I really want him.

“Deal.” And the winner by a mile is lower passions with logic coming in last!

But I’m a smart kid; surely I can get my control back and have him too. Right?