Darien Grace
God, I needed sleep. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually made it through the night. Lately, I would just lie in bed for hours haunted by hazel eyes and sinful lips. I should have been the one to come back and unlock him Saturday morning. I should have come back, value pack of rubbers in hand, and taken him for all he was worth, but no. No, instead I pussied out and asked Jas to do it for me. I had a Dark Adonis shackled to my bed and instead of going and taking full advantage of him, I was a disappointment to all of womankind.
Fuck.
Jas kept teasing me; she claimed that I had "performance anxiety". How about no. There was no way in hell I had performance anxiety. I was Darien Grace. I had nerves of fucking steal. I was the Wonder Woman of Sexual Prowess.
Fuck it all.
There was nothing wrong with a little sexual tension. Sexual tension could be good for the libido, leaving something to be desired... yeah, that was it.
"Hey! Fucking watch where you're going!" I growled, reaching to yank my Beats down around my neck. Some asshole had all but run me off the path, stepping directly in front of me so that I crashed into them. "Jesus." I didn't even both to look up as I pushed past the offending party.
"Careful now, Darien. One of these days you're going to say something you'll regret," a familiar voice chuckled. I turned at his words, an apologetic smile immediately sliding into place. Caleb was already reaching one hand reaching forward to brush a few stray strands of violet hair from my face.
"Caleb! Christ, I'm sorry! I thought you were one of these hungover twats. They never watch where they're going," I laughed, nodding in the direction of the over populated quad; everywhere you looked people were rushing to classes, dorms, and wherever the fuck else they went.
"No, darling, just a normal... 'twat'."
"Watch your language, sir. What would the children think?" I teased, faux outrage coloring my voice.
"Child, you mean, and I'm sure she has a far more colorful vocabulary than I could ever dream of teaching her," he chided, regarding me knowingly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Pops."
"Oh right, of course, my mistake," he laughed, bending down and pretending to retrieve a halo, shining it before placing it above my head.
"So that's where it went! I've been looking for that thing for ages!"
"Sure you have, Dari," he chuckled and I flashed him a devious grin before he checked his watch, "Well I'm sure I'll see you at home later, but I have to go to this thing they call a job and you have a class to get to."
"God, don't remind me." I could already feel the heat pooling in between my thighs in anticipation. I'd been dreading this class all day... dreading... anticipating... it was all about the same in my book. With way, it was torture, I tell you. Pure undiluted torture. Why Caleb had thought it was a good idea to put the human embodiment of sex in charge of my class astounded me. We all knew I had a 'problem', hell, they'd all joked about sending me to rehab for sex addiction last week, the bastards.
"Oh, hush, you'll be fine... just try not to stare too long and keep your hands out of his pants."
"That's your teaching assistant you're talking about!"
"And if we're not careful a future father of my adopted grandchildren."
Caleb McKenney had to be the only person on this earth aside from his daughter that could make me blush and Christ my cheeks were flaming.
"Ha, ha, very funny."
"Just try not to get the kid fired, darling. I'll see you tonight for dinner, you're still coming right?"
"And miss a McKenney production of Modern Family? Never!"
"That's my girl, make sure my other one shows too! Oh, and no basketball players!"
"She'll be there, I'll drug her ass if I have to."
"You're one of a kind, Dari," Caleb chuckled before adjusting his satchel and rushing back across the quad and into Parker Hall.
Three minutes later, I was lounging in my seat, mentally accompanying my Beats as they blared Break of Reality. Somehow I knew the moment he walked into the room. I don't know how I knew, I just did. It was like someone had set my body on high alert and whenever he got within fucking-distance, a charge of electricity shot straight through Stella; it left me trembling in my seat. I was a hot fucking mess.
I knew the second he entered the building. I knew when he was walking down the hall and up the stairs. I knew when he put his hand on the door handle and I knew the second his eyes found my shaded corner. My breathing fractured and I was left panting, fighting the overwhelming urge to open my eyes and my legs to the Dark Adonis.
At least attempt to pretend you have some self control.
I was exhausted within the first thirty seconds. I needed to see him, I needed to see the bruises that those wonderful cuffs had hopefully left on his wrists. They were the only proof I had, aside from the heat in between my legs and the knot in my stomach, that what had happened between us this weekend had been real. They were my only proof that he wanted me as much as I needed him.
"For the most part, I was unimpressed." The deep undertones of his voice shook me to the core, breaking through the sanctuary created by the hum of violins and the chime of the piano. I couldn't help it, I reached forward and dropped the volume, practically muting it; trading classical creations for his masculine drawl.
"As an introductory assignment the grades were fair and it is my belief that I was more than generous in my revision," he rasped, stalking forward until he stood directly in front of Thin Nose and her bitchy pals.
"Be a gem and return these for me." He winked at her, flashing her a glimpse of a cratering dimple in his cheek before forest eyes rimmed in gold locked with mine. My hands had already been clenched into fists before his little power play, but now I could practically feel blood dripping down my wrists from the gashes my nails had made in my palms.
The bastard.
"Yes, Professor," She cooed, practically dropping her panties for him in the middle of the lecture hall before scooping the pile up off of her desk top and making her way through the room. Every chance she got she would thrust her narrow hips out toward the front of the room, peeking over her shoulder just to observe him carefully watching her. It was nearly enough to put me over the edge.
You had to be fucking kidding me. Now he was just being a goddamn prick.
"However," he began again once she had made it through the majority of the room; the only row left being my own, "I was impressed by a select few. Your grades will reflect the depth that your papers affected your reader and forced him to think. Grades were also impacted by sentence structure, grammar, paragraph composition, and overall composition. This is an advanced writing course, as this was a first look at your abilities, I now know what you are capable of and I doubt I will be impressed again," he paused, a discreet grin pulling at those sinful lips as Thin Nose made her way up the rows towards me.
Fucking dick.
"I guess it pays to be the class whore," she sneered before flinging a stapled stack of paper at me and sashaying away.
"You would know," I laughed, arching an eyebrow at her as she whipped around to glare at me.
"How dare you!"
"Oh, go suck a cock," I groaned, rolling my eyes before turning away from her and to the stack of paper she had found so offensive.
Darien Grace
Styles
CCW212
17 September 2015
Writing Assignment 1
Why Dwell In The Past When You Can Live In The Present
Memories are just diluted and often embellished ideals from one's past. Rarely, if ever, are the thoughts and actions "remembered" the truth of the event. How is one supposed to diagnose their own problems and personal demons when the instances that shaped them into who they are cannot be recalled as they truly were? What is to stop a person from perceiving a harmless disagreement between their parents as the root for all of their personal nightmares? Or a singular bad grade as the reason they failed out of college? It is my belief that a person is not shaped directly by the events of their life but rather as they view them and allow them to impact their judgment and decisions...
I couldn't believe it. I couldn't fucking believe it. He'd stolen my paper.
"What the actual fuck."