Student Secret

Chapter 8 : Desk Duty

"What should I tell my friends?"
You keep your eyes glued to the screen of your phone as Natasha moves to stand over you. She peers over your shoulder, resting her hand on the back of your neck and rubbing lightly. In almost and instant, you were melting beneath her touch. The facade of your annoyance was diminishing beneath her fingers.
"Do your parents stay close? You could say they picked you up."
"My parents stay a 6 hour drive from here."
She huffs, slouching against you, laying her chin atop the crook of your shoulder. You turned you head, just a little to somewhat face her. She touched her lips, mildly, against your cheek.
"What will your friends think of this?"
You lifted your hand, holding your palm against her cheek. Perhaps you were being selfish about your emotions. This is difficult for you - yes, you might be attracted to your teacher. No one will hold you against that. But for Natasha to be attracted to you? Her student? It's a different story.
"Honestly, I think they think it's sweet that I like you."
She kissed your cheek again, with a little more conviction this time round.
"You can figure out what you'd like to tell them. I'm okay with whatever, but if you choose to let them know, please don't let it out past them."
You nodded, struggling to come to a conclusion.

Natasha checked the time, and realised that you'd both best get a move on if you wanted to arrive on campus before anyone could spot you. Collecting your things in a rushed manner, you met Natasha at the door who was stepping into some heels. You open the door with the keys which she'd left in the lock. Before stepping out, she tugged the hem of your shirt and pulled you back into her lips. She pressed hers against yours more sure than last night or this morning.
You stood, bewildered for a moment and attempting to keep the flush of your cheeks from reaching the surface.
"Go now! We're gonna be late."
She laughed as you composed yourself, walking out the door as she followed.

To match the sumptuous feel of her house, she also drove a fancy BMW that could've easily been on the set of an action movie. You slid into the passenger seat, the chilled surface spiking the back of your thinly clad legs. You were wearing the skimpy outfit that you'd sported during your meeting with Natasha yesterday. Despite your professor offering you some of her own clothes, you denied in your moment of spite towards her and opted to rewear this questionable attire. Natasha leant over to ramp up the heater, noticing your folded arms and shivering. The drive onto campus was short, but at every red light, Natasha had her palm running the length of your inner thigh. You spent every moment either with your hand beneath hers, fingers intertwined on the gearstick, or your fingertips tracing her forearm. It was like you couldn't spare a moment where your skin was not on hers.

She pulled into the staff parking, sparing quite some time as she had sped most of the way. Before leaving, you sent a brief message to your friends then shared a short peck with Natasha, who had completely disregarded the possibility that there could be eyes on you both. You had racked up almost hundreds of missed calls from your friends. Their worry was quite wholesome.
-Sorry guys! I'll speak to you after class. I am alive.

You walked behind Natasha at a hasted pace, following her footsteps towards the lecture theatre. She unlocked the door, allowing you in and closing it behind you.
"How are we gonna do this? I'm late most weeks, do we really expect anyone to believe I got here this early."
Natasha was removing sheets from her desk and logging into the system, her focus was not on you.

In almost comedic timing, there was a knock at the door. Luckily, you were stood behind Natasha's desk, leaning against the wall, so whoever was there couldn't see you through the glass.
Natasha's face dropped, she turned to you, then called out to the untimely intruder.
"Just a moment!'
She rushed towards you, taking your wrist in her hand.
"Get under the desk."
"What?"
"Just get under and be quiet."
You stood before her, your mouth open in shock at her request.
"Please?" She smiled exaggeratedly, holding her free hand to your cheek. You rolled you eyes, ducking beneath her desk and curling your knees to your chest. Surprisingly, there was a lot of room under here and it wasn't uncomfortable.

You heard Natasha's heels against the floor as she rushed towards the door, opening to greet whoever was there.
"You look good."
She huffed before replying.
"Thanks."
Perhaps you were over-assuming but you were sure you knew her well enough to recognise the discomfort in her bleak tone. Her gratitude wasn't genuine.
"No reply to my calls last night?"
You recognised the voice. He was a man you'd met before, you just couldn't place when or where.
"I've told you before, Steve. I'm not looking to date right now, and our relationship is strictly...business."
Steve Rogers, head of Sports and Exercise. You'd encountered him before during fresher's week at an event when he persistently attempted to persuade you into joining any of the Universities sports teams. You weren't surprised that he was interested in Natasha.
"And I've told you before that I'm not giving in until you go on just one date with me. And since you're concerned about 'business', I promise it'd work in your favour."
You could hear Natasha sigh once again as her footsteps returned to their position at the front door of the lecture hall.
"I have a students waiting to come in. Please go."
Once Natasha had opened the door, you could faintly make out some final conversation between herself and Mr. Rogers as well as a flood of Law students entering the room. What the fuck were you gonna do now?

You checked your phone - more messages concerned for your whereabouts as you'd failed to meet Maria, Wanda and Carol before class.
-Guys, I'm under Natasha's fucking desk."
Carol - Are you kidding?
Maria - In a body bag or alive?
-Alive, asshole. All of you come to my flat later.
Natasha bent down with her bag, pretending as if she was getting things out. Her eye contact met yours, yet her lips remained pursed. You whispered to one another, afraid of the hundred prying eyes and ears before you.
"You want me to stay here this whole lecture, don't you."
She nodded apologetically and leant in to lay a soft kiss against your forehead.
"Be good, please." She spoke softly into your ear, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear before standing to deliver the lecture.
Be good, God. An entire hour beneath this desk just to keep this secret.

You messaged the groupchat some vague answers to all of last night's questionings, unsure of how they can even be on their phone during this class. Natasha is usually overly-vigilant and notices students on their phone within the second. Perhaps she's realised you'd be texting them, and without the ability to look at the board or take notes, you didn't have much to keep you busy under there.

Some time into the lesson, Natasha had assigned the students some in-lecture group work. The class chatter was merely a low murmur, though you could faintly identify Carol's voice amongst the lot. She had trouble speaking at an indoor level.
You could hear Natasha's heels against the ground, making their way over to the desk. Part of you hoped she'd bend to speak to you, however, that would be slightly too obvious. She sat in her desk chair, crossing her legs over slowly in an attempt not to be in your way. She was wearing a skirt today - formal, appropriate, but showing just enough leg to make you weak at the knees. You thought about 'being good' as she'd requested earlier, but if you're gonna be bound beneath that desk for the remainder of the lecture, you might as well have some fun with it.