"Girls like you get guys like me in trouble."
Her skirt was shorter than it needed to be, although her blonde hair and pretty eyes reminded him that she was innocent. She was supposed to be, anyway. The deeper he looked into her eyes, not deep at all since he was not looking for anything, the more intensity he saw. Intensity that was not for innocent girls. She was a bit different from the average girl. The way that she strategically moved so that her skirt rose to show more of her thighs. They way her long legs seemed to stretch out and announce their presence even as she stood still.
"Mr. Striker," her raspy voice said as she stalked toward the desk. His eyes, like any normal man's eyes would, were glued to her legs. Matt, or Mr. Striker as she called him, stood paralyzed by the thoughts of what to do. Turn away? Ask what she needed help with? None of the above? He loosened the top two buttons of his shirt in what was perhaps the most unwise of moves. An honest man would have stopped the learning session altogether. He would have picked up his bags and went straight home. An honest man wouldn't watch as a younger woman flaunted herself right in front of him.
Matt Striker was never an honest man.
"You need help?" Every word was a hurdle that he struggled to get past making the end of his question an awkward jumble of words that tried to flow as even as possible with his smooth tone. Matt placed his hands on his hips for lack of better things to do with them. Any other place seemed to be a disaster in the making. "Yes, I do actually." The blonde said as she sat down on the smooth wooden surface of the desk, patting the spot beside her. He looked at her as if asking for more clarification, which she gave to him as she waved him over with a single finger.
Slowly, so slow if pained him to move, Striker found himself moving toward the desk. One foot moved one inch and the other moved three quarters of an inch. Even the girl was ready to throw herself out the window at the reluctance being shown. "Don't be afraid." The girl smirked as she stood back up. "I'm not…" She began as she reached him. "Going," which was punctuated by her hands on the third button. "To bite." Not a second after she finished her sentence were her lips on his neck. A lie?
No, there was no sharp pain in his neck. There wasn't a sign of any attempted to even nip at him. It was just the soft exploration of her lips, something that Striker wasn't opposed to. Far from opposed. There was that honest man thing again. Again, he proved that he wasn't one. Neither of them should have gotten lost in the moment. They were in a much too public place, which was clear at the sound of a hard knock on the door.
"Clean up," the monotonous groan from the custodian called out before opening the door. The two broke apart, both running their hands through their hair out of frustration. Damn. Matt was quick to leave the scene, his friend following behind him as she pulled her skirt down for more coverage. "Miss McCool," the man nodded toward her. Her nose wrinkled as she pulled the skirt down even more, this time letting her hands linger until she was out of view. "Pervert." This caused Matt to look up.
"Not you," she snapped. "The only thing I have to say is that next time I get to be the teacher."