2. Lessons With Mr. Carson 》Candy

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*~~~~SMUT~~~~*

Angie's POV:

Finally it was Friday, and my last class of the day. I internally thanked myself for organizing to have classes to only one on Fridays. I also thanked myself for taking Honors Concert Piano/Music Theory because, well, to be blunt, the professor was sexy as hell.

Speaking of young Mr. Carson, he was late. This kind of bothered me - the man was never late. But I didn't worry too much; I just sat at my assigned piano, plugged my headphones into the jack, and played part of what I'd already composed for the semester final, effectively blocking out my classmates.

Suddenly, the door to the huge lecture hall slammed and I looked up to see a dishevelled - and admittedly very sexy - Mr. Carson rush to his desk. His hair was tousled, a couple buttons were undone on his shirt, and his glasses were half askew on his face. Jesus Christ. I bit my lip and looked away, pulling off my headphones to hear his lecture. I thought to myself, He's your teacher, Ang. You can't be thinking these things about him.

"Okay guys, I didn't have much planned for today, so just work on your compositions." He announced. His voice made my fingers fumble on the keys. He saw that and made eye contact with me, grinning.

God, that smile.

No, I chided myself. I turned back to the piano, put on my headphones, and got to work. That kept me busy for a while. I just focused on the touching of my fingers to the keys and the sounds emitted into my headphones, what order they were in, the chords. Music flowed out of me like water - a bit of an abnormality, but not one I was going to question. My composition was getting closer and closer to being finished. Then I could perfect it.

Suddenly, a hand rested on both of mine, stopping my rapid playing, sending electricity zinging though my veins. My headphones were slid off my head. My entire body froze yet was on fire as a hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

"I'll need to see you after class, Ms. Deviers," was whispered into my ear before my headphones were slipped back on.

Oh my god.

I looked down at my hands resting limply on the keys. What could he want to see me after class for? I mean, I knew I'd been slacking recently, but that was for lack of inspiration. But shouldn't have my sudden change of pace from today changed that? What had I done? Did he know that I was slightly hungover in class on Monday? Oh god, what was I in for?

I could barely concentrate for the rest of class.

****

At the end of class, I waited until everyone had left before I walked up -on shaking legs - to Prof Carson's desk. He looked up at me with intense blue eyes, smirking, asking, "Shouldn't you be heading off to class?"

What the hell?

With my nervousness, I choked out, "B-but I thought you told me to stay after."

He smirked at me, and rose from his chair. He went to the door, closing it, sliding the lock into place with long, thin fingers. He then walked toward me, and somehow I ended up falling back onto his desk.

"I see the way you look at me, checking me out, day dreaming about what it would be like to be with me." he said lowly, sensually.

What? He knew?

I gulped. "W-what do you mean?"

He walked closer to me so that he was standing in between my legs. My insides shook and my body was on fire as he braced his hands on the desk outside my hips, leaning in to growl into my ear.

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