Escaping Mr. Grayson

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Chapter Two

By the time I arrived at the frat house at nine thirty, everyone was already drunk. The air was thick with sweat and the sharp, sour smell of beer, and couples dry humped in almost every corner. The floor was sticky with spilled drinks and there was a blonde girl barely laying on the coffee table, smoking and giggling while a group of boys undressed her one article of clothing at a time.

"Boo!", Daisy tried, sneaking up from behind me and then pulling me into a hug. "You look half good"

I look only half good to Daisy because I decided to put on some tights beneath the dress that I was wearing. She on the other hand was dressed just like an angel in a shimmery, silver spaghetti-strapped mini dress with fishnets and some white sneakers.

"...and you look fully like a slut", I say back to her, making her laugh.

"Do all shindigs look like this?", I wrinkle my nose

"Okay, First of all, don't say shindig. Literally, no one says that", she says, "and second of all, stop wrinkling your nose. It's too weird"

"Well I'm not used to this setting Daisy", I defend

"Just, c'mon, Asher is waiting for me", she says above the music. She fluffed her hair and pulled me into the kitchen where she poured herself a drink and gave me a cup.

"There's some soda in the fridge", she tells me, knowing very well that there's no way I'd be drinking tonight.

I start to pour myself some soda when I see Daisy wriggling onto the dance floor in the living room, leaving me to stand alone in the corner of the kitchen holding a red solo cup half filled with Cola.

Half an hour later, with Burna Boy and Drake pouring from the stereo, so loud that I could feel it in my throat, I decided to worm my way to the backyard where a crowd of boys were chugging beers and discussing which girls they would each be sleeping with tonight. Disgusting.

I looked to my side and spotted a now drunk Daisy, heading inside a black car with one of her boyfriends, Asher, on her arm, wobbling slightly. Why am I not surprised that she's leaving? She's my ride. I stop myself from worrying and call her.

"Hello?", I say when she picks up the phone

"Hey Nai", she laughs

"Daisy, you're my only ride and I just saw you leave the party. What am I supposed to do?"

"Don't worry. I'll be back in like 30 minutes, we just went to get more chips", she stutters

I huff frustrated.

By the time I cut the call, I stood firmly by the front of the house, waiting for Daisy to reappear. But she didn't. Not by ten thirty, not by eleven. With each hour that passed and each can of beer that got chugged, things got much louder and much looser. Finally at past midnight, my phone died and I decided to just take the long one hour walk back to campus.

Nearly ten minutes into walking back to campus, a silver Audi pulled up right beside me and as the window rolled down, to my surprise, Mr. Grayson smiled right at me.

"Mr Grayson? What are you doing here?", I ask, slightly embarrassed by the circumstances under which we're meeting

"I was just on my way home", he says, "and yourself? Don't tell me you're walking all the way back to campus dressed like that this late"

"My ride sort of...abandoned me"

"Come on in. I'd be happy to give you a ride"

I reluctantly walk around the car and slip into the passenger seat of Mr. Grayson's car. The leather on the seat is cold and there's a faint aroma of pinewood that circles in the atmosphere. I quite like it.

We drive a few blocks in silence until Mr. Grayson suggests that we stop by his house so that he can pick up some documents for tomorrow's lecture that he can leave in the classroom in advance. I agree to his request and we take the short detour.

"Would you like to come in?", he asks calmly, "I could make you some coffee"

I'm hesitant at first but then I comply and exit his car. I timidly walk into his house, mimicking his ever step. At first glance, his house is way too big for just one person and so I assume he must be married with atleast one child. I don't remember seeing a ring on his finger though.

Maybe he's one of those people who would just rather not put on a wedding band?

Everything is a plain white color with some black marble accents on the coffee table that sat in front of the big white couch. Across the living room, beautiful paintings hang on the wall, one of which seemed to be a portrait of an old man, probably his father? A few picture frames sit above the fireplace. One of which is of a light skin woman with short brown hair, smiling as she sits across a table.

"That's my wife Anitta", Mr. Grayson says, noticing my gaze

"She's lovely", I mutter and he brings me a mug filled with coffee. I take a sip before continuing to analyze his home. "Where is she now? Your wife?"

"She's a photo journalist so she's always traveling the world. Right now she's in Malaysia. She'll be back here in about a month"

"So, you're a college professor who marks assignments while your photo journalist wife goes on a new adventure each month?", I joke

"Wow", he laughs, "you just made me want to re-think all of my life choices"

"You really should Xavier", I giggle. Noticing after that I just called him by his first name. "Sorry. I meant to say, Mr. Grayson"

"I don't mind", he says

"Your wife is extremely lucky she gets to sleep next to you whenever she's home. Hell, if I were her, I'd never have the strength sexually to leave you", the words leave my mouth before I'm able to stop them

"Are you trying to seduce me Miss Tembo?", he asks nonchalantly as he raises an eyebrow at me. I can't tell if he's offended or uncomfortable:

"That depends. Is it working?", I look up at him and he steadily holds my gaze, causing my heartbeat to quicken. Only the good Lord knows where all of this inappropriate confidence is coming from.

And only the good Lord knows what's about to happen next.

I pull Mr. Grayson by his collar with both hands and before I know it, he's propped on top of me, holding his weight on his forearms. I take lead and bring one of his hands to my thigh. I grab his collar at the back of his shirt and slip it off, tossing it onto the floor. His lips are like ice when they crash into mine. It's intoxicating and almost addictive. I crave it already

He leaves a trail of kisses down my stomach, taking his time to tease me. Making me quiver. He reaches his long, muscular arm around me and pulls down the zipper to my dress, the feel of his cold palm makes me tingle. Pausing to look in my eyes he asks, "Do you want me to taste you Miss Tembo?"

I blink rapidly and nod my head yes.

"Words Miss Tembo", he says strongly, "I need words"

"Yes", I whisper, "I want you to taste me Mr. Grayson"

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