A/N: This one pretty much speaks for itself.

Disclaimer: All of these awesome characters belong to Charlaine Harris.

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Sookie POV

Two weeks had passed without any significant interaction occurring between us. I came to class, participated, and left. He didn't smile or look at me like he had on that first day; in fact, he barely seemed to notice me. Even when I went above and beyond in the discussions, demonstrating that I had not only done all of the reading but also searched for related outside sources, he barely acknowledged my effort.

By the end of the third week, I couldn't deal with his silent treatment any longer. I was a darn good student and I hated for a teacher to think that just because I considered him sexy, I wasn't intelligent. Although a certain group of girls (not including me, of course) had stayed after school the first week, eventually they began to realize that Mr. Northman wasn't going to do anything other than give them extra assignments, and they stopped coming to the tutorials. (Even Debbie Pelt gave up after three sessions.) Finally, only a few students would stay after class, and they were the ones who genuinely struggled with the readings. So on that third Friday everyone was ready for the weekend, and as soon as the bell rang, all of my classmates practically ran out the door.

Only Mr. Northman and I were left, but at first he didn't seem to notice. For a few awkward moments, he continued to erase the board. I walked up to the side of his desk, summoned my courage, and coughed loudly. He turned around so fast that I thought he might have whiplash, and I would have laughed if I hadn't been so dang nervous.

"Um, Mr. Northman, I need to talk to you about something."

His expression changed from startled to cool as a cucumber in about two seconds flat, which made my heart pound in my chest. Still, I knew I had to get through this. The longer I spent in his class, the more my respect for him grew. He was a great teacher, enthusiastic and knowledgeable, and as his student, I wanted to receive the benefits of that. I had to change his opinion of me. I just had to.

"I wanted to apologize for the first day of class. I know how inappropriate my behavior was and I'm sorry if I placed you in an uncomfortable position. I just want you to know that that's not really who I am, I'm not some floozy who throws herself at strangers, especially not when they're teachers, even if they look like students, which is what I thought you were at first, not that that's any excuse..."

I rambled on and on, unable to stop myself even as I felt my cheeks burning and my nervous smile stretching out further and further. This wasn't the speech I had practiced last night in front of my vanity mirror. Heck, this wasn't even the speech I gave in my nightmares!

But the absolute worst part was that he wasn't saying anything. While I babbled incessantly, he simply studied me with those enigmatic eyes. At some point, I stopped for a breath and thought seriously about just turning and running. I could probably change my schedule, maybe Ms. Ravenscroft still had some empty seats...

My train of thought ended when Mr. Northman gently placed his hand on my shoulder. I felt a tingle run through my body and I had to stop myself from subconsciously leaning into him.

"Sookie..." he began tentatively, searching my eyes, "I know you are a good student. You might even be the best student I have this year. I should be the one to apologize. I also acted inappropriately on the first day by perhaps encouraging you when I should not have. I am sorry if you feel that I have been ignoring you."

I felt disappointment growing in the pit of my stomach, but I tried to focus on what he was about to say.

He hesitated before continuing. "I am finding it difficult to balance my attention between the students who need my help and the students, like you, who thrive extraordinarily well even without it."

Well.

That was bullshit if I'd ever smelled it.

He'd always responded enthusiastically to Cara, Annie, Brett, and all the other students who were "thriving" without his help.

Summoning up my courage yet again, I stared at him defiantly until my emotions overcame me and I accidentally blurted out, "That's a lie."

His eyes widened and his hand dropped from my shoulder.

"You won't look at me in class. I study so hard, I try so hard, and you won't even look at me." My voice broke slightly as I tried to hold back a sob.

Embarrassed and convinced that I'd totally destroyed any chance of getting him to respect me, I fled the room.

Luckily, the school was mostly empty. Students and faculty alike had been ready for the weekend and so the halls were silent. I hurried towards the closest restroom to clean myself up before I drove home; I didn't want Gran to see that I was upset. Unshed tears burned in my eyes, but I impatiently and angrily brushed them away.

Because the school was so old, the girls' restroom had a unique layout. The front was a "Powder Room" and the actual stalls were accessed through a door on the side. I stayed in the Powder Room, trying to calm myself down before I left.

Suddenly, the door flew open. In the mirror, I saw Mr. Northman slam it shut behind him and lock it with a resounding click. I swallowed hard as he advanced towards me with a primal gleam in his eyes, which had darkened from electric blue into deep, rich sapphires. I was so shocked that I couldn't do move or do anything besides watch his reflection. Stepping behind me and maintaining eye contact in the mirror, he placed his large hands on my hips. I was literally caught between a rock (the bathroom counter) and a hard place as he pressed his erection against my ass.

A sound that was a cross between a gasp and a moan fell from my lips, but I continued to stare at his reflection, fascinated by the predatory look he was giving me.

"This is why I don't look at you in class, Sookie. Because every time I do, it becomes more and more impossible to keep myself from throwing you on my desk and fucking you into oblivion."

I shuddered with desire at the thought of it and instinctively rubbed my ass against his hardness, wanting more of his words, more of his body, God, just more of him. He gauged my lustful expression for a moment, and while still looking at me in the mirror, he caressed my chin before tilting my head slightly to the side. Bending his neck so that his lips were close to my ear, he whispered, "Do not start something you may not be able to finish."

In response, I began grinding my hips more deeply against him. I may not have been confident about a lot of things in life, but I knew two things for certain. I wanted this man. And I was going to have him.

He growled(!) and his right hand moved from my waist to my left breast. When his talented fingers began to tease my nipple into a hardened nub, I leaned back against his firm chest, closed my eyes and moaned loudly.

He stopped and I felt his chest rumble as he said authoritatively, "Look at me, Sookie."

My eyes flew open and met his in the mirror as he bent to suck on a tender spot at the nape of my neck. My gaze drifted lower when his other hand began to slide up the inside of my thigh, under my skirt.

Watching us together, watching him touching me like this, was so unbelievably erotic that I thought I might spontaneously combust from lust right then and there.

I felt something unexpectedly cold on my leg and my hand grabbed his wrist, stilling his movement. "What..." my voice trailed off as I realized that the "something" was his metallic wedding band. He stiffened as my fingers grazed the ring and I asked him quietly, without really wanting to know the answer, "Mr. Northman, what about your wife?"

He withdrew instantly but set his hands on either side of me on the counter, effectively trapping me. Although my thoughts were still overwhelmed with desire, they were also marred by shame. I couldn't continue now that I had remembered her.

Thankfully, his next words were the equivalent of a green light.

"She cheated on me. I'm divorced. I know I should stop wearing my ring, but—" I cut him off by turning around and hungrily pressing my lips against his.

Her loss. How anyone could have cheated on this amazing man was beyond me.

As enthralling as it had been to watch our reflections, it had also been slightly surreal. Now that we were facing each other, it finally began to sink in that this was actually happening.

And God, he was such an incredible kisser- my entire body felt like it was on fire. I only wanted more of this forever- his muscled arms holding me crushed against his hard torso, my hands desperately clutching his shoulders and fisted in his soft hair, and his uniquely masculine scent surrounding me.

Although I needed air, my body still screamed, "traitor!" as I pulled away. Panting heavily, I gazed up at him and realized how much he had changed in only these last few minutes since I'd left his classroom. Instead of being indifferent or guarded, he was looking at me with obvious admiration and lust. He leaned his forehead against mine in a gesture that was simple but extremely intimate. While looking deep into my eyes and gently stroking the nape of my neck, he spoke to me in a low, hoarse voice that belied his current emotional state.

"Sookie, I know what you thought, but I did notice your efforts. That was the problem; you were all I could think about, even when you weren't in my classroom- hell, even when I wasn't at the school. I'm sorry, more sorry than you can imagine, for how I've treated you these last few weeks."

I glowed with happiness at these words before kissing him again. His hand continued to stroke my neck; the other had slid around my waist and was pressing me into him. I returned to grinding against him wantonly, moved by a passion and an intensity I had never experienced before. He growled(!) against my mouth and without warning, lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist. Somehow in the next instant he had pressed me up against the nearest wall, and I moaned as he pushed my skirt up far enough to rub himself against my center.

One of his large hands supported me underneath while the other blazed a trail up my thigh. He grabbed my soaking wet underwear, tore it across my hips, and stuffed it in his pocket. I almost protested at the destruction of one of my favorite pairs of Victoria's Secret panties, but I forgot everything including my own name when he deftly skimmed the outside of my slit with his fingers. My hips rocked forward trying to get him to penetrate me, but his hand stopped moving and his lips broke away from mine.

"So impatient, Sookie, tsk tsk. Perhaps it is an American thing?" he teased, smirking down at me.

Later, I was going to make him pay. But right now, I just needed those long fingers inside of me, bringing me to orgasm.

"Tell me what you want," he said challengingly, with his accent becoming more pronounced.

"Mr. Northman, please...I need you to...I want..." But even after everything, I was still embarrassed to be verbal about what I wanted. I whined a little in frustration; surely he wouldn't stop now...

One torturously long finger slid in and began thrusting slowly. I almost sobbed with relief.

"First, my name is Eric."

I nodded frantically as he added another finger.

"Y-y-yesss, Eric," I breathed.

There was a slight hitch in his rhythm as he heard me say his name for the first time. He picked up his pace though and continued in an even, composed voice.

"Secondly, you have to tell me what you want. Since this seems to be new for you, and I am, after all, your teacher-" here I made a guttural sound as I vaguely recalled the delicious forbiden-ness of it all- "I will give you an example."

I nodded again, not speaking, content to ride his fingers and feel the pressure build as his thumb began to circle lightly around my swollen clit, so close but not touching.

"Eric," he began in a slightly higher-pitched, melodramatic Southern drawl that would have made me laugh under less duress, "I want you to fuck my sweet, tight, hot, drippin' wet cunt with your looong, agile, masculine fingers. And don't you dare stop until you make me cum at least twice." He ended his little "example" with an imitation of my whine from only a minute ago.

"Is that supposed to be me?" I asked, momentarily distracted and outraged. "Because I do not sound like thaaAAAAAA-" I wailed as his thumb finally made direct contact with and massaged my clit.

He stopped again, waiting to hear a more "detailed" request from me. Instead, I could only cry out in sheer desperation, "ERIC, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE DON'T STOP!!!!"

He shrugged slightly and said, "Good enough," before repeatedly pumping three fingers into me. I made noises I didn't even think a human being was capable of making when his thumb deftly rubbed my clit in quick, continuous circles.

And as quickly as he had begun to tease me, his expression had become serious again.

"Come for me, Susannah," he commanded. I gazed helplessly into his dark blue eyes when the pressure inside of me finally exploded and I shook violently, unable to scream his name more than once as I came on his hand. My head flopped onto his shoulder like a rag doll's and I sagged against him, panting heavily.

He softly encouraged me, murmuring things like, "Shh, Sookie, you're alright. You're okay, I've got you."

After a few minutes had passed, he grabbed some clean paper towels (from the holder that was conveniently a few feet away from us), and then cleaned both of us up. I continued to rest in his arms, sandwiched between him and the wall, and totally sated for the first time in my young life.

I finally ended the silence with an eloquent summary of my feelings.

"Wow."

He laughed and finally pulled back to set me on the ground. It was about that time when I realized that I had just let my history teacher finger me in the girls' bathroom, and what if someone had heard, or what if he was regretting it already or expecting me to immediately, you know, "return the favor," and I wasn't any good?

However, my insecurities completely disappeared when I looked into Eric's eyes. Once unfathomable, they were now warm and caring. I felt something else, something deeper than lust pulling at me, but for right now I didn't want to explore those feelings.

He kissed me lightly and said, "Sookie, I don't want to pressure you into anything, but if I am being entirely honest, I would like to get to know you better. If you feel it is inappropriate, I understand. I can only assure you that whatever happens or doesn't happen between us outside of class will not affect the way that I treat you in the classroom. And if you are concerned that it might, I would be happy to help you change your schedule—"

I quickly interrupted, "No! I mean, I love your class, Eric, I don't want to change. I...I trust you."

He smiled. "In that case, how would you like to be my guest for dinner this evening?"

Unbidden images of Eric and I naked on his bed flew threw my mind at a rapid rate. Even as I shyly accepted his offer, I wondered if there was any way that I could possibly keep myself from having my wicked way with him as soon as I entered his home.

Probably not, I thought, with a little anxiety and a lot of anticipation.

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Coming up: dinner at Chez Eric! Will he cook or order in?

And the introduction of a villain! Come on now, it's no fun if there isn't someone to throw a few wrenches in the works. Will it be Pam? Debbie Pelt? Or another, as-of-yet-unintroduced character? No spoilers this time, folks; I can't tell you who. But I can say that it will probably be John Quinn, the boorish football coach who is oddly fond of calling his players, and the other teachers, and the lunch ladies, "Babe." HA!