All Of Me, Twisted - A Forbidden Romance: Romantic Comedy, Young Adult, Interracial Romance, Bisexual Romance, Contemporary, Lesbian Fiction, Women's Fiction, ... Romance, Interracial Romance Book 1) by Moore Gabi

Author:Moore, Gabi [Moore, Gabi]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-04-01T04:00:00+00:00

Michelle

I had never felt so turned on in all my life. I raced home, drunk on my own brazenness, feeling sure that the people I passed in the street could see straight into my depraved soul, could somehow sense how soaking wet my panties were and how fast my thoughts were flickering from one dirty possibility to the next.

What had I done?

I hate being challenged. I hate when people underestimate me. Let’s call it a character flaw. But I was in hot water now. Now, I was committed. As I walked through my front door, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks: this was going to happen. Soon. Somewhere in my future I was going to let my Creative Writing teacher do very, very bad things to me. And now it was just a matter of time, a matter of playing it cool in these intervening moments.

Should I submit another story? Would he ask to see me again? Did the other students think I was a raging slut? I realized that their disapproval only seemed to add to the thrill of it. It was glorious. No longer was I just writing about these things, I was living them. He was right – words do have power. And the body can speak. And mine was saying, “more.”

The next class, I felt close to fainting, like some kind of maiden with a heaving bosom in a bodice-ripper. Mr. Cain acted like nothing had even happened. He was so bland and dismissive I almost doubted my entire memory of the class before. This, together with how painfully boring Linda’s piece was (even by her standards) and I was starting to lose hope as the end of the class approached. Maybe I had just embarrassed myself. Had I worn this tight little skirt for nothing? Had I agonized over which exact bra to wear just to go home and take it off again?

When it was my turn, I carried on with a reading from my short horror story, which seemed uninteresting to the other students in comparison to what had already passed; I couldn’t drum up any enthusiasm for it either. But as the hour petered out and everyone started to pack away their books and disperse, Mr. Cain cleared his throat and said to nobody in particular, “Michelle, could you please stay after class for a moment, please?”

In that split second, my entire body pulsed with an “oh god yes!” but on the surface, I tried to feign indifference and only muttered, “sure,” also to nobody in particular. He nodded once and the other students floated off.

As the last student left the classroom, he still had his back to me, fussing with some papers on the desk – that desk that I couldn’t look at anymore without my mind wandering. I sat deathly still in my chair, trying to will my heartbeat to calm down. Clasped in my lap was a new and updated story, longer by 2000 words and overflowing with tension, among other things.

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