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Darien Grace
Try not to lay him across his desk, Jas's warning from this morning was blaring from a bullhorn angled directly at the heat pooling between my legs. Every inch of my body was a live wire. I couldn't even focus on what he was saying- the rich tones of his voice washing over me, stealing my cognitive abilities. Ludwig had nothing on dear Mr. Styles. Holy fuck. Mr. Styles. A tidal wave of heat washed through me as suddenly every cliché naughty school girl fantasy flooded my mind.
"This course will not be run how it has been in the past. This will not be a 'blow off class' or an 'easy elective'. I don't care if you stumbled in at five in the fucking morning, you will not come in here and catch up on your beauty sleep," I heard a few of the more prudish girls in the front rows gasp at his obscenity. He paused, glorious, shadowed forest eyes trained on the group of steroid enhanced Sigma Phi meatheads two rows ahead of me.
"This is an advanced writing course focusing in on your personal style and applying it to the contemporary world. You will have weekly assignments and a major journal due at the end of the semester. I expect you to show me the respect that you would to any of your other professors and I will strive to do the same." I couldn't stop the amused snort that slipped out, beryl eyes immediately zeroing in on my slumped position in the back. Oh shit.
"Something amusing you, Miss..." he took a moment to scan the class roster, "Grace? Perhaps you'd like to share it with the class." A delicious shiver ran down my spine. Miss Grace, there was something extremely erotic about the formality. I couldn't look away from the wicked curve of his lips urging me to play my cards right.
"Respect is earned, it is not given, Professor."
"I could not agree more," he turned away, effectively dismissing me, but I was no where near finished. Verbally sparring with his pompous ass was the most action I'd seen in nearly two months. We would be finished when I said we were.
"Then you will also admit that it is completely off base for you to expect our automatic respect without any frame of reference."
"Your 'frame of reference' can be found in the title of 'Professor', Miss Grace. Do you show this level of outright insolence with your other instructors?"
"Yes and no. Would you like for me to explain?" I mocked, putting on my most ridiculous British accent. His eyes narrowed immediately but there was a slight twitch at the right corner of his mouth that gave away his own amusement.
"If you would be so kind."
"All of the other uptight, new-age, or lost in the times professors that the University has employed cannot do a goddamn thing to keep my attention. I know that it is my civic duty to keep their lives interesting and make them worth living. They've done their time and they've learned to ignore my antics. You, however, you're bright and shiny and new- a new toy, actually. You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into and your misled sense of entitlement is undeniably attractive. Since the moment you set foot in the room, all I've been able to think about is how goddamn fuckable you would look with my legs around your neck and that, my darling, has made the bucket list." I grinned triumphantly as his eyes flew open before narrowing to slits, the ghost of a smile that I'd seen before gone without a trace. A slow scarlet flush was creeping it's way up his neck and across his cheeks. Previously teasing eyes hardened as unabashed furry blazed in their depths. The hall erupted in a chorus of hoots and catcalls coupled with outraged gasps. My subconscious had fallen on the ground and was laughing her ass off. Well now, that should get his attention, first impressions and all.
"Miss Grace, I-I, this is completely inappropriate," He sputtered, long fingers twitching angrily at his sides.
"Oh, darling, welcome to my world," I chuckled, grinning sadistically back at him.
He floundered for a few prolonged seconds, the color shading his cheeks darkening steadily from a pale pink, to a deep scarlet, slowly transitioning to a darker plum. The damn Brit wasn't even breathing. Jesus fuck, there was no way in hell he would last the semester if he couldn't even make it five minutes.
"Despite what you seem to believe, this is not your world, but an acclaimed University and those 'comments' will not be tolerated in my class. I will not play your game and should you insist upon pursuing this topic I will see you removed from my class."
"Oh, please, you're just a hot piece of ass parading around in Daddy's shoes," I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
"Enough, Miss Grace."
The mousy, brunette from earlier was clutching a thick silver rosary hanging around her neck and staring daggers at me. I could see the hot flush in her own cheeks, I'd obviously voiced the same fantasy that she had been having.
"Can I help you, kiss ass?" I quipped, quirking an eyebrow up at the pious bitch.
"I said that was enough, Darien!" Mr. Styles yelled, his long, hopefully skilled fingers curling into tight fists as his sides, his entire body quivering with barely contained indignation. It was canceled out though by the growing bulge in his pants. Heat surged up like a title wave between my legs at the sound of my name on his tongue and I could imagine him calling it out as he came undone.
"It's Ren, actually, and I'll let you know when I'm through, Sir." I knew that the entire class was gaping at us. Clearly, none of them had been in a class with me before. I mean, I knew that they'd all heard about me, the school wasn't exactly known for its subtly when it came to the spread of rumors. This though, this was completely in character for me. It was to be expected, and all of the other, more 'seasoned' professors did expect it.
"You may be comfortable flaunting your, I have no doubt extensive, sexual tendencies and imaginings-"
"What exactly are you implying? Are you calling me a slut? I'm sure there are is a clause about sexual harassment or two in your contract. Would you like to discuss it with Caleb McKenney, I'm sure I could arrange a meeting." He paled.
"I-Uh, No... I just... those- those comments have no place here. This is an acclaimed institution, Miss Grace. I will not have you disrespect it with your lewd remarks," he foundered, anxiously raking his fingers through his hair, pulling the front up where it had fallen into his eyes.
"Would you like a shovel, Professor? Because, you're digging yourself a pretty big hole."
"No, Darien-."
"It's Ren," I corrected him. I could see what infinitesimal shreds were left of his patience with me, rapidly deteriorating and immediately the dark image filled my mind. Those beautiful, blazing, lust filled forest eyes hovering above me, searing me with their heat as he buried himself to the hilt inside of me. Angry purple flowers marking the area where his greedy fingers gripped, his sinful mouth swollen and pink...
Fuck. I could feel Stella squirming under his assessing gaze and I fought to regain my composure.
"Quite frankly, Miss Grace, I am done playing your childish games. Should you wish to remain in this class and not turned out on your ass by campus security, I would keep your mouth shut," My heart lurched at the thought of leaving, "Now, Miss Grace, if you are quite finished, I have a class to teach."
Well, I guess I can cross out 'Piss off new student teacher' from my to-do list. Now, I definitely needed to make a to do to-do list.
"Yes, Sir," I winked, saluting him from my spot in the back before propping my Doc's up on the seat to the desk in front of me. He eyed my boots before meeting my mocking gaze. Come on, bud, do it.Tell me to put them down. His jaw clenched, the muscles ticking as he drew yet another frustrated hand through his hair, running his tongue across his font teeth; my mouth immediately went dry.
"Well, this was going to be a short class today, but since we were so rudely interrupted," he ground out, dark eyes leaving me feeling exposed as they roamed my face, my neck, and then down the front of my chest. Atta boy, Styles. "I expect you all to write out a five page explanation on why you think you see the world the way that you do. What causes you to view it differently. I want you to explore your own minds, your own realities and then relay what you find in your paper. I want them on my desk at the start of Friday's class." Friday. He wanted an introspective five pager masterpiece ready in three days? Tough shit.
"See you then," he dismissed us, turning to write on the board behind him. The hall erupted into a babble of voices as everyone began to pack up; thin Nose and her friends glared at me as I descended the stairs.
"Wow, I can't believe she said that," one of them hissed, eyeing me with obvious contempt. Jesus, we were back in grade school. I rolled my eyes, shouldering past her, knocking her out of the way with my bag.
"What the hell? Are you blind and a slut?" She cried, clutching her uninjured shoulder like I'd stabbed her.
"Oh sweetie, I'm not blind. You're just not worth my time. I'm in a bit of a hurry, I have an orgy to get to," I smirked, blowing her a kiss from my middle finger. She balked at me, mouth alternating between opened and closed- a fish out of water.
For the second time that day, I'd almost made into the clear when I heard it.
"Miss Grace, if you wouldn't mind staying after for a bit, I'd like to have a word." I cringed at the sound of the rasping voice, my stomach plummeting to the souls of my beloved Doc Marten's. Oh, fuck.
"Yes, Sir," I quipped, recovering slightly, my voice dripping with sarcasm.