The music that had been haunting me for weeks now sounded out over the speakers, finally complete. When the final stanzas played out, I could feel his expression change.
"This is what you were just..-"
"Yes," was all I could manage. It was perfect, undeniably perfect. The board would love it, hell, I loved it.
"You composed this?" He sounded completely dazed.
"Yes," I whispered, "So did you."
Darien Grace
Closing my eyes, I let his voice wash over me as it echoed throughout the lecture hall. I had re-inhabited my seat in the back of the class as a precautionary measure, but it wasn't doing us much good. Stella was still soaking, the morning's activities still all too fresh in my mind. It also didn't help that he kept looking up here. It was obvious that he was trying to 'sneak' glances, but what was more obvious was the fact that he was trying. His eyes kept darting back and forth between the door, the security cameras, glancing at the other students momentarily, and then focusing on me for a solid minute. Like fuck, my lack of filter wasn't going to do us in, his fucking boner was. I was half temped to scream down at him to "keep it in his pants", but I figured that would be a bit much... or would it?
"Something I can help you with, Professor?" I asked meekly once his gaze shifted back to me for what had to be the thirtieth fucking time in forty-five minutes. The entire hall fell silent. It'd been about a week or so since I'd interrupted class, I figured it would be best to keep up appearances and raise at least a little hell. Thin-nose had been craning her neck around at an impossible angle to watch us all class and if one of us didn't do something we were most definitely going to be screwed for screwing each other.
"I uh, no, uh Darien— I-I mean, Miss Grace," he stumbled, his face heating with embarrassment.
"Then quit your perverted fucking staring," I snapped, cocking an eyebrow up at him, "I'm not going to suck you off under your desk, so just give it a rest already." My comment earned a low series of chuckles from the fratastic boys in the row beneath me and I grinned. That's more like it, the good ol' Ren Grace charm was back in business.
"Miss Grace, that, Jesus—." He was fumbling and only I could see the anger boiling up deep within his otherwise flustered demeanor.
"Complete sentences if you would, Professor; You are instructing at the collegiate level... Oh no, I apologize, I meant 'guest lecturing'. How silly of me?"
His large hands fisted at his sides and I just knew that the muscle in the side of his jaw would be ticking like fucking crazy and that adorable little vein in his neck would be pulsing. I was pushing my luck, but hell, that's what I'd built my reputation on. I didn't just push boundaries, or break the rules; I said 'fuck them' and I made my own. I couldn't just suddenly stop.
He stood there shaking for several moments, his thumb and forefinger coming up to crush the bridge of his nose while he struggled for composure. We hadn't really discussed how we were going to handle 'class time' earlier.
After the whole 'composing to the beat of his heart' shit, we'd fucked again before scrambling to class. I'd tried to convince him to call in sick so that we could have a nice relaxing day of physical exertion, but Mr. Tight Ass had insisted we both go; you know, to 'maintain appearances' and everything. If we were actually maintaining appearances, he'd have showered and I wouldn't be there in general. I'd been skipping class on and off for the past month. It was hard to come here without jumping his fucking bones in the middle of the auditorium. I was squirming now— forget the fact that Stella had already been thoroughly and wonderfully banged into passivity twice this morning. God, I swore she was insatiable.
Do you ever sleep, bitch?
I bet that even Thin-Nose would know the answer to that question and it was a solid "no".
"Complete sentences, then? Since you cannot seem to manage going an hour without flaunting your unnecessarily obsessive sexuality, it would bring me sincere joy if you got the fuck out of my class." He practically growled, his expression completely devoid of emotion. I quirked an eyebrow up at him. Everyone else in the room saw the fuming English nerd that had just been embarrassed by the school's sexual Wonder Woman, but I saw the kinky shirtless fucker lurking below, wooden ruler in hand.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson." A disconnected phantom of his voice whispered over and over again in my mind, sending a jolt through Stella and a thrill racing through me. Oh, I would kill to hear him actually say that. Yeah, that was going to happen. I would make sure of it— Bucket List status.
Still reveling in the delicious idea, I smirked at him, "And if I don't? Are you going to spank me, Sir?"
"Leave. Now." Jesus, he was testy. You'd think he'd be in seventh heaven after this morning, but no.
Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms over my chest and plunked my cherry red Doc's up on the desk in front of me, daring him to challenge me, "I'm actually quite comfortable, Sir."
"Miss Grace, are you defying my authority?"
"Are you just now tuning in, Mr. Styles?" I gasped, feigning surprise. Once again, the entire hall erupted into a series of low chuckles and poorly disguised laugher. Surely by this point he knew that they were on my side— well most of them anyway. Thin-Nose and her little coven were cursing me with their minds; I could see the venom in their beetle-y gazes.
"Darien, get the hell out of my class before I have you thrown out." His voice was forged steel and I was actually mildly interested in finding out just how he planned on completing this feat.
"Would you like for me to get the Dean, Professor?" Thin-Nose crooned, her disgusted sneer melting away as soon as she turned to face him. She leaned down far lower than necessary, twirling one fried lock of dull brown hair around her boney fingers.
And this bitch called me a slut?
"Please do go get him, Jamie and I need to catch up. Maybe we'll even get sushi!" I cheered, grinning devilishly down at her. Dr. James Peters was one of Caleb and John's closest friends— their tightly knit relationship was due mostly to my weakness for classroom disruptions. Every time I was just 'too much' for one of my professors to handle, they called Caleb or Dr. Peters and we had one of our little 'chats'. I learned in the very beginning to go for the gusto and get as much out of our time together as possible. The last time we'd had one of our sessions, we'd gone for cheesecake.
Honestly, Caleb and John's connections had to be the only things keeping me in school. I knew that I should probably stop, but I just couldn't bring myself to care. I didn't see the point in school when my future was more or less laid out for me. I didn't need to know about the 'history of the trumpet' to be a pianist. I truly, didn't even pay attention in any of my core classes. At this point, I'd taught myself more than any of my professors ever could. Caleb's classes were fun and I truly adored Madame Dupond, but she usually arranged the basis of a separate curriculum for me and I was given free reign on embellishing the bare bone outline. I was in this for the social experience and I knew that fact alone had been the single most influential force in my choice of NYU over Juilliard.
"That won't be necessary, Felicity," Harry ordered. Felicity, what an ironic name for the bitchy class kiss-ass. She was in no way 'happy'. I could admire her parents' ambition, but ambition could only get you so far. "You could, however, retrieve Dr. McKenney. I need to discus the parameters of amending the class roster."
"Right away, Professor." She beamed at him, scrambling up from her seat.
A nefarious idea suddenly breathed itself into existence and I was very read to get out of this classroom. "Alright, I'll play along," I purred, kicking my feet down and rising languidly from my seat, slinging my Alexander McQueen tote over my arm.
"Too late, Ren. You've really fucked yourself this time," Thin-Nose's voice was mousy and high pitched— it was absolutely perfect for her.
"It's funny because you actually think that Caleb will do something to me," I laughed, rolling my eyes at her before turning back to Harry, "I admire your attempted power play, dear, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to stick a pin in this argument, for now. I have... a prior engagement to take care of." I grinned at him, sauntering down the rows towards the door.
"You're just going to walk out?" He growled, taking an anger fueled step in my direction. Stella was ready to hurl herself at him. Fuck, it was obvious that this tension was turning both of us on. Yeah, I needed to leave before either of us blew what was left of our flimsy cover.
Easy, Lady. Not yet; I have a few plans for Mr. Feisty Pants.
"You asked me to leave, Professor, am I to believe that I'm now in trouble for attempting to do just that?" I cocked my hip out to the side, leaning on Thin-Nose's vacated desk with one hand. His mouth popped open to oppose me before he shut it again. He repeated the process several times over, the image of a fish out of water blinking into existence.
"That's what I thought," I grinned, pushing past him, deliberately brushing my body against his. He immediately stiffened at my touch, my own heart racing from the all too brief physical contact. I was halfway through the door before I turned back around, "Oh, and Felicity? Sit your cock-sucking self back down in your seat. Your services are no longer needed." I grinned at her before flipping a few stray curls over my shoulder and parading down the hall. The door to the lecture hall slammed shut behind me.
As annoyed as I was with Felicity, I did feel kind of bad about pushing him so far. I was putting him in so many difficult situations, lately. Not only were we in 'otherwise' territory, but I kept pushing him in class. If he were any other professor, he'd have kicked me out of the class by now for my antics. I didn't go after anyone to the same way I went after Harry. I just kept pushing him further and further to the edge. Right now he was hanging on by his fingernails.
Within the three years I'd been at NYU, I'd already been forced to drop one of my classes for verbally abusing my professor. Caleb and John had to fight to keep me in school in general. The board wasn't used to dealing with cases as... unique as mine. I knew for a fact that they'd spoken with New Orleans law enforcement as well as having went through the emancipation documents. Caleb and John used everything that they could to fight a negative ruling and against my wishes they had played the sympathy card. I couldn't remember if I had been more angry or relieved when I found out they'd used that angle and that it had worked.
I couldn't help but laugh at the fact that I actually regretted what I had said in the lecture hall. Remorse was such a foreign concept for me. Ever since I escaped Louisiana, I'd made it my life's goal to live without regrets and for the most part I'd done a bang-up job. I'd accepted hangovers and fucked up grades because I'd made the decisions that had led to them. I was in charge of my own life and it was such a liberating feeling.
If someone had asked me earlier this semester if I felt bad about harassing the Darling Professor, I would have laughed in his or her face, but now— with our Otherwise— everything was so goddamn complicated. I was suddenly very motivated to try and make it up to him.
I navigated the halls easily, turning corners and climbing the stairs to the fifth floor with practiced ease. Harry's small broom closet of an office was at the very end of the hall, shoved into the corner. Caleb's was the first on this floor, the Dr. Peters' directly across from the elevators—both of the people who could bring my newfound bit of 'otherwise' to an end. And I there I was about to try and fuck the darling professor in spite of it.
I knew that I should have been turned away by the overwhelming consequences if we were caught, but the allure of the oh-so forbidden actions was too great for me. Yeah, I definitely had a destructive personality, and the irony of the fact that I was trying to repair what I could possibly be obliterating in the process did not surpass me; it hit me with all of the force of a 747.
Amazingly and impossibly enough, all of the administrators were absent from their offices. For fuck's sake. This kind of luck was impossible, especially for someone like me. Instead of doing the, you know, smart thing and turning around to get the fuck out of there before I fucked everything up, I kept walking. If I was anything, I was stubborn as fuck and I'd made up my mind that I needed to make it up to Harry so I was going to fucking make it up to him.
I twisted the door to his office and my 'lucky streak' continued— the idiot had left it unlocked. I rolled my eyes. Maybe crime wasn't as popular in his world, but in New York City you didn't leave shit unlocked. The University would have his ass if his iMac were stolen, not to mention his keys. Like fuck, what kind of dumb-fuck leaves their keys? There were lying, out in the open, on his desk. Lord have mercy. If someone were to take these, they'd have unrestricted access to the majority of the buildings on campus, not to mention his motorcycle and apartment. These were definitely coming with me; maybe if he couldn't actually find his keys, he'd figure out the special kind of idiot he was.
Scooping up the key ring, I stuffed it into one of the zipper pockets in my tote before slinging it down into one of the chairs. I had a little bit less than thirty minutes before class officially ended and thirty minutes was being generous. After the build-up we had, he was more than likely to end class early just so that he could ream me out about my 'inappropriate behavior'. However, the only punishment I was in the mood to accept would have to be sexual. Now that, I would be more than okay with.
Grinning, I shimmied out of my black skinnies, kicking off my Docs. I threw my heavy leather jacket down onto the chair with my tote and shed my flannel. I knew exactly what I wanted him to see when he walked in: me perched on his desk in nothing but my favorite black lace cheeky panties, his Pink Floyd t-shirt, and his burgundy beany— I'd commandeered it before we left the townhouse for class. It looked better on me anyway.
Glancing at the digital display on the wall behind me, I checked the time. I had a solid twenty-five minutes before he was scheduled to return. Hmm, what to do, what to do?
Immediately, my delinquent self kicked in and I skipped around his desk to his iMac. A little snooping never hurt anyone. Stella was irritated with me. She and I both knew that if he walked in to see me scrolling through his files he would be irate with me, but I just couldn't help it. The lure of danger was just too much for my poor, adrenaline junky-self.
Stella warned me away, curiosity and cats.
Shut up, cunt. I rolled my eyes, I was already too invested in this little scheme to back down.
I drummed my fingers against the magic track pad and the screen blazed to life. The background was a picture that looked to be around two to three years old. The younger version of Harry was beaming in his black graduation cap and gown; he was sandwiched between a couple. I swore the kid was like a clone of his mother. They both had the same cratering dimples and dark unruly hair. He looked obscenely happy, brandishing his shiny new diploma with pride; it was as if that piece of paper was his most prized possession in the world. He had the same eyes and height as the man that I could only assume to be his father, but that was where the similarities stopped. Harry was built, from what activity, I had no idea. His his father appeared to be a gaunt, little man. The pairing between his parents confused me, but I was too distracted admiring the man that had been inside of me twice today to pay too much attention to it.
Suddenly, the picture switched and there was a close-up picture of a grinning little boy with that signature panty dropping smile. I couldn't help but smile softly back at what had to be a six or seven year old version of the Harry I knew. He looked like he'd had an exceptionally happy childhood and I couldn't stop the pang of jealousy that washed through me.
The picture changed again and my jaw dropped, breaking though the flooring and careening all the way to the building's foundation. It was a picture of me— me laughing and smiling like an idiot. Where the fuck had this come from? I couldn't remember taking it, but it had to have been from this weekend. I was wrapped up in my commandeered flannel and the background looked vaguely like his kitchen. It was hard to tell.
The next was a selfie of the two of us. My lips were pressed against his cheek and his grin was identical to the one from his baby photo and his graduation. Pride. His eyes were glazed from the bourbon we'd been drinking and my hair was a wild, purple, curled mess. Yeah, that was definitely sex hair— there was no denying it.
The next was one of me sticking my tongue out at him. I was naked— of course— and wrapped up in his sheets. The bottle of Bardstown lay discarded on the other side of the bed, completely empty. I didn't remember blacking out, but I guess that was the point. What person can remember not remembering? Jesus.
"What the fuck, Harry," I breathed, watching as picture after picture of us flashed across the screen. If I had thought he was an idiot before, well now he was a goddamn fool. This was the perfect way to ensure that he got himself fired and Caleb suspended. It was his fucking school computer! What would happen if some curious asshole, very much like myself, decided that they wanted to go through his computer because the fucktard had left his office door unlocked? Groaning, I signed into the account and of course there wasn't a password. Jesus, it just kept getting worse and worse. We were nearing fucking pathetic. For a grad student and a professor he had to be the most ignorant man in the world.
I was just going to delete the pictures when the door opened. Yelping in surprise, I panicked and shut the computer down. I'd deal with the security breach later.
"Darien, what are you doing?" Caleb asked and my panicked state hit an all time high. We were fucked. Nervously, I ran my hands across the surface of the desk, thanking god I was sitting so that he couldn't see my lack of clothing.
"Uh, just uh—..." I was floundering and he could tell. Normally, I had a list of excuses longer than a fucking Lord of the Rings novel, but in that moment my mind went blank. The only word that came to mind was 'fuck'.
"Darien," Caleb warned, closing the door behind him with an audible and terrifying click. I swallowed hard. There was no way in hell I was getting out of this one.
"I was... uh... looking for you?" Yeah, I was fucked. Caleb just signed, rolling his eyes heavenward and I could imagine the prayer he was saying, probably for patience.
"We've talked about this, you can't keep breaking into professor's offices whenever you don't agree with—..." he trailed off, his eyes glued to the chair across the room. The chair with my jeans on it. Holy mother fucking shit balls, goddamn.
"Please dear god, tell me you're wearing your fucking pants, Dari," Caleb choked out and I could hear the unnerved anger in his voice.
"Uh..."