~ Barbara ~
“I don’t think you’re a bit sorry about missing my class, young man.”
A deep, masculine voice resonated over the phone line. “Oh but I am, Professor Reynolds.”
Lying on her back on the bed with her legs running up the wall, Barbara had never felt so much like a teenager in her entire life. Cradling her cell phone in the crook of her neck, she pulled up her camisole and ran her hands over her breasts. “I’m going to have to give you a big fat zero for class participation that day.”
“If I fail your class, my rich daddy will cut off my allowance.”
Damn, who would have thought her hot biker was good at role-playing? Staying in character, she responded primly, “You should have thought about that before you skipped my lecture, Jeremy.”
“I’m real sorry, professor. Maybe I could stay after class and make up my work.”
“Aren’t you all kinds of motivated to learn about ancient fossils?”
“It’s fascinating stuff. I was told that sometimes teachers give extra credit assignments.”
“We do, but they’re usually really boring.”
“You’re a real smart lady. I’ll bet you could think up something for a naughty boy like me to do for extra credit.”
Could she ever! A dozen truly filthy images swirled around in her head, bumping into each other. “I have several really good ideas.”
“Tell me.” The big biker’s breath was getting rough and aroused.
“I could have you dust all the books in my home office, naked. That would make you think twice about taking your studies more seriously.”
“Let me make sure I understand what you’re telling me. If I were naked in your home and you could make me to do anything in the world, you’d want me to dust your books?”
“I have a list, and dusting is on it.”
Shifting the conversation, he asked, “So, what are you wearing?”
Looking down her body at the innocent white cotton panties and camisole, she decided to tell the hot biker a big fat lie. “I’m wearing a black skirt with a white button-up shirt. The problem is that I can’t quite get the buttons to stay closed over my breasts.”
“You need teacher’s glasses and a pencil behind your ear.”
“You like this game, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah, but I’d like it better if we played it together instead of talking about it on the phone like religiously preoccupied teenagers.”
“Did you ever have a crush on one of your teachers?”
“Hell yeah. They were the only normal people in my life. I liked every teacher I ever had. All of them were so different, pretty in their own ways, and kind to me. It was hard not to crush on them.”
“That’s really sweet. I can almost imagine that.”
“I’m glad you turned out to be a teacher and not a doctor. I associate doctors with getting patched up and pain. Teachers are hot, smart, and sexy in my mind.”
“Well, I can’t see students, so you’ve got three more weeks to go before you can engage in any hot teacher fantasies. I guess my books will have to remain dusty for a few more weeks.”
“How about instead of dusting I plunk your pretty little ass down on your desk and bury my face between your legs.”
An excited laugh escaped her lips before she could smother it back. “My girl parts are screaming like cheerleaders, and my mind blinked out there for a second, but I’m back in control. Three weeks seems like forever, but we can do it.”
“You’re cramping my style.”
“We’ll be digging for fossils together tomorrow. I’m thinking that when you see me all sweaty and covered in dirt, you’ll lose some of the enthusiasm for seeing me as a hot teacher.”
“You’d still be smart, funny, and beautiful to me. I’d happily take you covered in dirt or clean. As a matter of fact, I think about that a lot.”
“I think of you, too, especially when I’m in the shower.”
“Do tell.”
“It’s when I have my girl time.”
“I thought girl time was secret code for menstrual cycle.”
“Heck no. I call that riding the crimson wave. Of course, my ex referred to it as his nonreciprocal sex week.”
“You ex was an ass. Tell me more about what you do in the shower.”
“That’s where I tend to my needs, while I think about you and Little Ace.”
“He’s been asking about you.”
“Mmm, has he? I can’t wait to see him again.”
“He’s all confused about you and thinks he’s going to get a cool heart-shaped sticker every time he performs well.”
Laughter bubbled up again, and it hit home how sweet everyday conversation was something so simple and yet fulfilling. “I really love talking to you. You’re so much more than you appear at first glance.”
His tone shifted slightly. “Yeah, I’m more than just an ugly, scarred-up biker. Most women never get to see it, ‘cause they’re too busy running in the opposite direction.”
Shock hit her hard and fast. “What on earth makes you think you’re unattractive?”
“Scars, ink, ugly mug…ripped-up clothes. Take your pick.”
“I think you’re about fifteen on a ten-point scale of attractiveness. You have a handsome face, and I enjoyed using your body for an adult playground. Men always wear scars better than women. Though I hate like hell that you were hurt, they’re a testament to your ability to endure pain and hardship.”
“You’re a nice lady.” The grudging quality of his voice told her, he didn’t quite believe her.
“Your clothing suits you. I’m always a little weirded out by men who worry too much about their appearance. It strikes me as vain and efficient. You’re always clean. You smell fantastic, and I appreciate the nice manscaping you do.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that cleanliness is next to godliness.”
“I even love your tattoos,” she admitted, “so don’t ever think you’re not attractive.”
“Though I haven’t been fortunate enough to see, I’ll bet you’re just miles of pale, unmarked skin.”
“Compared to you, my landscape is pretty boring.”
“That’s a personal choice, angel.”
“I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo.”
“They’re permanent,” he warned.
“I’m a grown-up and I don’t need permission from you or anyone else.”
“I’m not saying you do. I’m just cautioning you against getting one, just because you’re fascinated with mine.”
“I’m fascinated with them full-stop and have been for years. David always discouraged me from getting one, but I’m my own woman now, so I’ve been seriously considering it.”
“What have you been thinking about getting?”
“Guess.”
His voice turned pensive. “Maybe a nice little flower or heart placed somewhere discrete.”
“Nope. I’ve been thinking of getting a large tribal tattoo on my face.”
“No, you haven’t,” he called her bluff.
“Drats, you know me pretty well after only a few short conversations. It makes me feel like an open book.”
“Maybe a book tatt would be a good choice for a professor,” he suggested.
“I’ve been thinking of getting a full back piece,” she mused instead. “I want two wings.”
“You’re an angle, so that would be perfect for you.”
She loved when he called her that. She was no angel, but she was glad he viewed her that way. “Do you have any idea where I could get something like that done?”
“I know several artists that would be happy to stick you.”
“Good, now all I need to do is work up my courage and find someone to hold my hand.”
“I got that second part covered,” he said, his deep voice inspiring all kinds of naughty thoughts. “I should let you get some sleep. We’ve got an early day tomorrow.”
Ugh, she hated that he was right. She wasn’t eager to get off the phone with him, but she needed her rest if she was going to be of any use in the morning. “I’m really excited about the dig. Digging for fossils is kind of like Christmas morning. When I find one, I never know if it’s going to be something fantastic or more of a disappointment, like the socks my gran used to gift me.”
“I hope we find some cool fossils,” Ace agreed. “Sweet dreams, angel.”
Feeling the skin on her back tingle at his endearment, she murmured, “You, too, handsome.” Holding the phone to her chest for a brief moment, Barbara wondered at how quickly she was becoming attached to the lonely biker. One thing was for sure, she was too worked up to sleep.
Rolling out of bed, she threw open her closet doors. Rummaging around, she found a tight black skirt and her smallest white button-up shirt. She tossed them onto the bed and dropped down at her tiny vanity. Clicking on her flatiron, she dabbed a little makeup on and arranged her red hair in a messy, cute style most often seen on women trying too hard to be sexy. It was exactly the look she was going for tonight.
Sliding into the clothing, she pulled on a pair of white thigh-high socks. Though she didn’t have glasses, she tucked a number-two pencil behind her ear. Using her selfie stick, she captured about twenty images.
Pulling up his number, she sent Ace the one with the most cleavage. Tossing her phone onto the bed, she pulled off her teacher’s outfit and turned off the light. Less than five minutes later, her phone jingled.
Reaching her hand from under the blanket, she grabbed it. Instead of a message, there was one picture. Smiling to herself, she expanded it to full screen. Her hot biker had sent her a picture of himself in the buff. He definitely looked all kinds of hot with his chest out. Annoyingly, the image at the bottom went all the way down without displaying the goods.
Chewing on her lip, her fingers flew. You’re a tease, mister sexy pants.
He messaged back immediately. It takes one to know one. Sleep tight, angel.