Consumed (H.S.)

Chapter 7

"No, just really wanting to get these tests graded before I leave. Grace wants me to work tonight since it's going to be pretty busy."

"I can help," I offer taking a seat on the edge of his desk. "But can I ask you something?" he lays his pen and tests down on the desk, turning to face me.

"Yeah, sure what is it?"

"If Grace is your mother why do you call her Grace?" Why do I sound like a little kid? I'm just curious as to why he does that. I mean if it's his mom why wouldn't he call her mom and not her first name?

He doesn't answer right away, folding his hands behind his head, leaning his chair against the white broad.

"If I answer that, will you tell me how you got that?" he points down at the bandage on my arm.

Seriously?!

"I thought I said to leave it," I sigh, shifting a little to move off the desk. A hand gripping around my wrist stops me. His chair moves so he is now in front of me.

"Devin, I'm only asking because I'm truly concerned." His hand is still wrapped around my wrist, preventing me from moving. "Did Zaid do this to you?" What?! I don't even want to talk about this.

Devin," he pushes.

"Harry, if this will help get you off my back, no it wasn't Zaid. He may be an ass but he would never do this." He wouldn't. I pull the bandage from my arm, exposing the burn. "It was my mom, okay. Now answer my question and let's move on yeah?" I yank my hand from his grip, pushing myself from the desk to stand to my feet.

He seriously loves pushing my buttons, and it's honestly getting on my last nerve. Nobody, not even Zaid knows. I mean, he thinks he knows, but I'm not going to tell him, I lost all trust for him. I don't know why I trust harry with this honestly I shouldn't. Teachers always tell other teachers.

He blinks, looking around the room, most likely to see if I woke the stone heads up, but I didn't. By the look on his face I know exactly what he's going to say.

"Devin I'm -"

I stop him, "Don't. I swear if you do I don't think I'll ever forgive you. I'm only seventeen, they will send me to foster care and I don't want that. Now answer the damn question." I cross my arms over my chest. He sighs in defeat, running his fingers through his hair.

"Fine. Grace isn't my biological mother. That's all I'm going to say." Oh...

He moves his chair, scooting back to his desk, pulling his glasses over his eyes. Something about the way he looks in those glasses does something to me and I can't help but stare. He picks up his pen to continue grading, I find myself snatching the papers from his hand.

"I said I'd help." I split the stack in half, handing him half of them. I have no idea why I'm even thinking this, but what I find myself doing next surprises me as much as it surprises him. "So this might be inappropriate, but since there is only one grading sheet..." I pull his chair back a little from his desk and take a seat right in his lap. I feel his hard stomach against my back, his right knee between my legs. It beats me why I'm doing this, but the thrill of it excites me in many ways and by the feel of it, it excites him too.

"I hope this is okay." I turn a bit, putting more pressure against him. I can feel him struggle from under me and I can't help but bite my lip to contain my girlish giggle.

"It's fine," he says. I know by the sound of it his teeth are clenched.

I'm loving every second of this little torture. It may be wrong, but something in my head is telling me it alright. "Here." he reaches into the drawer of his desk, pulling out a red pen and handing it to me. I gladly take the pen and begin grading.