She was so lost.
The lemonade had a somewhat bitter taste to it, but underneath it its sweetness resided and that was the flavour Maxine loved most.
In fact the kitchen was part of a very large space which also included a dining corner and a living room. The wooden chair she was sitting on, at one of the counters separating the snug cuisine from the other areas, displayed detailed decorations of what appeared to be leaves and random shapes, making her believe it had to be handmade. Actually the entire room gave her that same impression. The carefully selected colours, the stylish composition and the smooth lighting: each element was just too perfect. It was as if Jefferson thought his house to be a photograph, one which he'd prepared profoundly.
The teacher in question was seated across from her, cleaning the lenses of his glasses. The top buttons of his white shirt were loose and Maxine found her eyes wandering to his revealed collarbones. Her gaze rolled along the line of his masculine shoulders and over his chest and progressively followed the length of his arms and ended up at his hands, which had ceased their actions and laid motionless on the table. His glasses were gone and when she looked up, she was greeted by a smiling face. "Spacing out, Max?"
His voice startled her, but she tried her best not to let it show. It was embarrassing enough that he'd caught her watching him like that. "Sorry. I was just… I like your house. It's nice."
"Thanks. It means a lot to me to hear that from you. Hopefully we can spend a decent amount of time together here in the future."
She bit her lower lip. Was that an invitation? "Yeah, I'd like that."
Jefferson nodded. "That's good." He eyed her intently, as if searching for something underneath her skin. Maxine fought off the urge to fidget under his penetrating regard.
"Would you like some more lemonade?" he then inquired, changing his demeanour to something light and casual. She noticed the empty glass on the table in front of her and acquiesced. She wasn't thirsty anymore, but drinking would give her something to do. The idea of being at Jefferson's place made her nervous. What would people think if they knew?
"Here you go, Max." Jefferson placed the full lemonade glass on the table and the art student took a sip.
It would've be a lie to claim that he didn't occupy her mind almost constantly, and in class she did nothing but stare at him in what she hoped was a subtle manner, yet Maxine knew she was only agitated because she was excited. She'd never experienced this type of emotion before, with anyone. Jefferson made her feel things with such an intensity it scared her.
"Max?"
And there it was. Her name sounded so good on his tongue. She remembered their… activities in his car a few days earlier, the warmth of his body against hers, the prickling of his beard and her inability to remain quiet as he devoured her…
Fuck.
She was so lost.
