Fearless: No. 2 - Sam (Fearless) by Francine Pascal

Author:Francine Pascal
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 0671037471
Published: 2000-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

THE WRONG GIRL

"PLEASE TABULATE YOUR RESULTS according to the format Dr. Witchell presented in the lecture on Thursday."

The very droopy-looking kiss-ass teaching assistant droned on as Sam pictured the way Heather would look when she appeared in his room that night.

It was unfortunate that his lab section of biochemistry had to meet on Saturday. It was especially unfortunate on this Saturday, when his mind was impossible to contain.

Would she wear that short black skirt that made him drool? Maybe one of those miniature T-shirts she had that showed off her belly button? And what about under it? It probably wasn't a good idea for him to go there right now, but he couldn't help it. He pulled his chair up so his waist pressed against the table and further obscured his lap with his notebook. It was highly embarrassing to get excited in class -- something he hadn't done since seventh grade.

He'd made his way into Heather's sexy satin bras before. That was a pleasure he was looking forward to. But it was the new frontier that piqued his interest. Would she wear satin panties to match, like the women in those lingerie ads?

Suddenly he wasn't picturing her clothes anymore; he was picturing himself taking off her clothes. He couldn't help that, either. And as the fantasy evolved he wasn't under the harsh fluorescent lights of a science lab anymore but in his (now almost clean) dorm room in low romantic light (he made a mental note to buy a candle). His body pressed against her soft skin, his hands exploring her luxurious curves. Her soft, dark hair tickled his chest. His lips trailed up her neck and under her chin.

He sighed (almost inaudibly) and kissed the lids of those mysterious eyes, the bridge of her thin, straight nose, the plains of her bewitching face. His desire rose to an unquenchable thirst as he burrowed his lips in her soft, buttery hair --

Sam looked up in alarm. The blissful fantasy screeched to a stop with jarring suddenness. It felt like somebody had ripped the needle off an old vinyl record spinning a Mozart symphony.

He wasn't kissing Heather. Where had this fantasy gone so far awry? Heather didn't have hair or eyes or legs like those. Somehow Gaia had arrived in his reverie uninvited. He should have been jolted, surprised, even repulsed by her sudden presence in his bed, but was he? No. The look and feel of her had sent his desire into some completely new stratosphere.

This was not good. This was very bad. What was he going to do?

"Sam . . .? Sam, uh . . . Moon, is it?"

Sam blinked several times. It took him a moment to bring the TA's face into focus. When he looked around the lab, he realized that except for the TA, he was all by himself. The class was gone, over. The TA was gazing at him as if he were a particularly puzzling specimen in a petri dish.

"I've kind of got to close up here, if you .

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