23. Midnight misbehaving
Gray’s place was more furnished than the previous occasion, now he had moved all his stuff down there. Marcy suddenly felt super nervous being there again. He had just been a hot guy the first time. Now they were student and teacher. It was forbidden.
They had driven Revel home keeping up the pretence that Gray would drive Marcy back to her house next. But Revel knew, and Marcy knew Revel knew, and probably Gray did too, just what was going on. But it was a kind of game they had to play, to cover their backs.
Marcy stood in the middle of the floor feeling briefly awkward.
But not for long. Gray came up to her, cupped her face in his hands, and brought his lips down on hers.
Her own lips parted for him and he explored and drank her in, deep and sensuous. Once again she could smell his skin, so wonderfully familiar and intimate, and the trace of alcohol from the bar and the soap he used in the shower.
They had a desperate need for one another. Gray’s hands had moved to encircle her waist, he was pulling her hard against him.
His lips left hers and he kissed her down past her jawline, down her neck to the tender hollows beneath it. He buried his head there for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around her, breathing her in.
"I’ve wanted you so badly." His breath was ragged.
She hoped he was going to take her straight to the bedroom but he stopped, let her go and stood back.
"We really can’t do this. Not like before. Not until you leave school, anyway."
Marcy was bewildered. "What’s the problem, it’s perfectly legal?"
"Except you’re now my student and I’m your teacher."
He wasn’t looking at her like a teacher, though. More as though he wanted to rip her clothes off. And Marcy wanted him to so badly.
"It’s not like we have to tell anyone," Marcy said.
"This is bad enough. Wrong enough. I know I should be waiting until you graduate but I see you in class and it drives me nearly wild. As for theatre…" he broke off, he didn’t need to continue. She knew exactly how it felt because she felt it too.
"I am really sorry, you know," Marcy told him. "For misleading you about my age."
He stroked a hand down her face, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "I’m sorry for being so angry and overreacting. It wasn’t entirely your fault. I never actually asked your age, and you never actually told me."
"So is it too young?"
"It should be." Then he kissed her again, showing her that it wasn’t, to him anyway.
He was so incredibly handsome. He could have had any girl he wanted. Marcy was still amazed he liked her so much.
"Can I stay with you tonight?" Her voice was husky partly from shyness, partly from desire. She just wanted to be with him.
"I shouldn’t let you."
"But you will." This time she kissed him, putting her lips on his and taking the lead in the embrace. She head him groan as she pressed her body against his, loving his tall, hard form that she could crush herself against.
"You can stay. God help me, I have no willpower around you. I’m supposed to be the responsible adult. We’re going to hold off though, until school ends."
Gray handed her a clean t-shirt to wear in bed. It was huge, practically like a nightshirt on her, and smelt wonderfully of his laundry powder.
Marcy had one aim and that was to get Gray to strip the t-shirt off her again.
He also gave her a new toothbrush, still in its wrapping. "I actually got this one for you, after the last time you stayed, until…"
"…until the worst French class in the history of the universe," Marcy finished for him.
"Something like that." He grinned. "It wasn’t the easiest start to my teaching career."
Marcy still felt cold when she remembered the shock. "I nearly quit school, let alone French."
"I wouldn’t have let you. I would have come and found you," Gray said.
"For the sake of my education?"
"That’s what I would have told myself." He turned to face her. "The truth is, Marcy, I was totally falling for you. That’s why this has been so hard. At first I wondered if it was all some high school game to you."
"I know that now," he said. "Then I saw in your notes how well you were doing, and that your previous teacher recommended you for AP French. You were clearly a dedicated student, not just some irresponsible teen. Which made it even harder because I couldn’t just dismiss what I was feeling."
Marcy looked into his eyes. "You seemed so angry the next day."
"I was. But mainly with myself, not with you. Given what I did to you," Gray told her.
"What we did," she reminded him. "It’s not like you forced me. Though I suppose that now you’re my teacher, that puts you into a position of authority…"
"Marcy." Gray’s eyes held a flicker of desire and warning. "We’re not going to go there again. Not yet. Now let’s get some sleep."
Gray was very determined that they should not get up to anything in his bed. Marcy lay there burning with frustration. She was sure he must feel even worse.
She tried the most obvious tactic. "I’m cold."
"Want me to get you another blanket?" Gray asked.
"It might not be enough. Feel how cold I am." She took his hand and slipped it up under the t-shirt, over her breast. She knew full well how warm her skin was.
"Marcy." There was a groan in his voice.
"Just one kiss?"
She knew, and Gray knew, that one kiss would be like lighting the fuse. But in the semi darkness he bent over her and briefly kissed her lips. "Good night."
"I meant more like this." Marcy pulled his head back down to hers, and kissed him. He gave way as she deepened the kiss, almost instantly he was kissing her back, devouring her.
She moved his hand back to where it had been, so he could feel how her nipples hardened at his touch. She heard him swear, and then his mouth moved down her neck and to her collarbone.
Marcy squirmed against him. She could feel his hardness through his boxer shorts. She tried reaching for it.
"Stop that. This is supposed to be just a kiss." He took both of her hands and held them above her head, pinning her down. It had the effect of driving Marcy completely wild with frustration. She loved and hated that he was in control.
No matter what, she was going to get him to break his resolve.
She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but failed. "You know I’m completely in your power like this?" Marcy said.
"If it’s the only way I can keep your hands above the waist, so be it." His lips came down on hers again, kissing her sensuously, tenderly, but his body arched so it wasn’t pressed against hers.
Marcy wanted to feel his weight on her. "Isn’t this role reversal?" she asked. "Isn’t it me who’s supposed to be the one holding out?"
"We should both be holding out," Gray said.
"We could just not-hold-out one more time." She was going to explode if he kept up this above-the-belt thing.
"Marcy…" There was a warning note in his voice.
Marcy wanted him too badly to care. "Can’t you just lie on top of me for a moment?" They both knew where it would lead.
But Gray’s determination was being eroded. Having Marcy lying there, practically begging for him, was a superhuman effort to resist.
Wordlessly he lowered himself on her, pressing the full weight of his body along the length of hers.
She sighed. He felt so right. He was kissing her again now, slowly, and she could feel his hardness pressed against her thigh.
"Be naked with me for just one moment." She spoke nearly in a whisper, but she knew even before he acquiesced that she had won. He shrugged off his t-shirt and boxer shorts, and she slipped the t-shirt off her head quickly.
Now they were lying flesh against flesh, no barriers between them. A part of Gray was still trying to hold out. But it was as though Nature had made their bodies to slide together and fit. Just by moving against him slightly he was soon between her thighs,
Marcy was so wet for him that there would be no resistance. She was moving her hips against him in a small, circular motion. Grey, despite himself, was grinding back. She felt his knees push her thighs apart and there he was, just on the brink.
She felt him at her entrance, still delaying. He pushed forward just a couple of millimetres and she thought she would go crazy. Was he still trying to hold out or was he just trying to go slow? To draw this out and torture her?
Then both his hands gripped her wrists again, holding them above her head, and she nearly cried out with frustration. But just as she thought he had finally decided to hold back again, he pushed straight into her, making her gasp. A long, steady entry.
He held there for several seconds, just the two of them joined. Fused. Body to body. Marcy totally in his power, even though she was the one who had overpowered him.
Then he started moving in and out of her. He shifted his grasp so he had both her wrists in one hand, and ran his other hand over her breast and the sensitive curve of her waist.
Gray was kissing her as well, but at one point he broke off and looked down at her. "I’m really falling for you, Marcy."
"I feel the same."
"That’s what makes this so hard. I thought I could resist you but I can’t. But it’s so wrong, I’m your teacher." His lips were on hers again and finally he let her hands go so she could run them over his body, through his hair, down his back. Feeling the hard defined muscles on his shoulders and upper arms.
They were both increasing the pace now, beyond stopping. If he keep this rhythm up much longer it was going to bring Marcy over the edge.
Just as the sweet bright sensation began to build in her lower belly, drawing all her sensitive zones together towards a peak, Gray suddenly swore and pulled out. He cried her name and a moment later she felt a hot, wetness over her stomach.
"I nearly forgot, I got so carried away. I didn’t even use anything," he told her as he recovered.
"Will it be okay?"
"It should be fine, I got out in time." He grabbed a towel to wipe her stomach. "It was too early for you though wasn’t it?"
It was. She still throbbed with unsated pleasure, but she felt bad confirming it.
Not that she needed to say anything. Lying on his side alongside her, Gray kissed her again. His hand slipped between her legs and his finger found the focus of her desire.
The firmness and the pressure were so intense that he only had to swirl his finger around for a few seconds before Marcy was quivering helplessly in his hands.
She almost felt a little embarrassed that he had finished and was still doing this for her. But she loved that he cared about her own pleasure as well. She’d heard enough horror stories of guys that couldn’t care less.
"Do you think you’re warm enough to get some sleep now?" he asked her.
She was warm and exhausted. "I think so."
She saw Gray smile in the dim light, then he kissed her once more and cradled her to him, as they fell asleep together.
Marcy awoke feeling truly happy. She was snuggled up against Gray, against his warm, firm, masculine body.
She only hoped he wasn’t going to regret breaking his resolve. After all, there was nothing illegal going on and in less than a year’s time no one would even thing to remark on it. What was the issue?
When they were together like this she couldn’t think of him as Mr Grayson, her French teacher. He was simply Gray.
But she looked at his profile and was reminded of the times she had gazed at him in class, wondering if she would ever get to be with him like this again.
Now she was in his bed, in his arms. She looked at him and he opened his eyes. "Good morning."
"After your performance last night, you really deserve a detention. Several," he told her. He was only half joking, part of him was frustrated that she had made him overcome his better intentions. And so easily.
"Maybe I should get a spanking instead?" Marcy said. She was only half joking as well.
Gray managed to look shocked and turned on at the same time. "I need a cold shower. Want to come and shower with me again?"
Marcy did. "But not if it’s cold."
"You don’t think I could warm you up?" He was playing along now.
"You can try."
They showered in hot water, steamy and slippery, their hands all over one another. "Next French lesson will you look at me and remember this?" Marcy asked, teasing him.
"Now I will. You’d better not wear anything too cute or distracting."
Marcy silently vowed to wear the sexiest outfit she could get away with at school, just to see his reaction.
Afterwards he made breakfast again, Marcy tried to help but Gray wanted to show off his pancake making skills. Admittedly they were very good. Marcy also found she had a huge appetite: probably all that activity last night.
"This is where it gets hard," Gray said.
Marcy looked up from her pancake, which was strewn with blueberries and maple syrup. "What does?"
Marcy was thrilled that there was an "us". "How do you mean?"
"Normally I’d like to spend the day with you, go back to the lake, whatever. Go out with friends. But we can’t take that kind of risk."
"So you do want to see me again?" Marcy was fairly certain of the answer but she wanted to hear Gray say it.
"What do you think?"
"Even though it’s risky?" she asked.
Gray ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his brow. "Against all my better judgment, I don’t seem to be able to stay away from you. The theatre group hardly helps." He poured more coffee. "But we’re going to have to be extremely discreet, and patient. More patient than last night."
Did he mean that they were back to above-the-belt until the end of school? Marcy desperately hoped not. She liked sleeping with him not just for the physical excitement, because also because of the intimacy. She felt close to him.
"So we’ll have to be incredibly careful," he said. "Otherwise…"
He didn’t finish the sentence. They both knew what "otherwise" was. It was the end of Gray’s career and probably Marcy getting kicked out of school and grounded until she was eighty.
But looking at him, at that strand of dark hair falling tantalisingly over his forehead again and his eyes dark green as he looked at her, she knew it was worth the risk.