Disclaimer: Kala-Warrior18 does not own in any way the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series, ownership and creator of such literature–Laurell K. Hamilton.
Property: Kala-Warrior18 has ownership of fiction characters in "Livin' Well" are Michelle Chapters and Nicole Blackwoods and future OC characters.
Enjoy the story.
Chapter 3: Dead Notes
After years and years of the familiar ringing in a person's ears to alert of time consumption, the class bell is still the worst thing to ever hear. Michelle was 5 minutes early into class and took the top row of the desk stands. Nobody sat by her because that's just how she liked it; she wasn't anti-social, just didn't have a way with words or how to strike-up a conversation.
That and she could not be distracted in this class for her life, literally. This college class of Preternatural Law was of dire importance to her work of supernatural defense. Granted, she could still work because she already had her Law Degree and Associates Degree of Preternatural Law.
She, also, had a Bachelor's Degree in Lycanthrope-logy, Vampirism, Business, and Photography. The photography class was a waste because the scene of the crime is enough to scar someone for life but it was still required.
However the justice system required her to have a Bachelor's in Preternatural Law and Preternatural Biology.; just another 3 hours that was keeping her awake more like it.
The bell rang, again. Michelle desperately wanted to take her gun and shoot it but it was at home by now with Nick, who was probably fast asleep...lucky bitch.
Bringing out the rest of the necessary utensils, Michelle watched in dull fascination as other students came in and took their seats. It was easy for Michelle to establish why some were taking the class.
For instant there was the complication of family matters, who understood the once human-and-now-monster situation, refusing to break family ties. To have that much courage, love, and loyalty was very rare.
The Goths, Emos...Junkies, whatever rebellious teenagers and immature adults were calling themselves now, were doing it for the darkness and blasphemy or the acceptance few ever got from a normal social life and decided upon a different route.
Others, like sweet thirty-year-old women or men, who either had uncontrollable kids, hard job or none, and high self-consciousness (categories: too fat, skinny, ugly, or old), a person would never thought to have a Were or vampire lover or any other kind of relationship. Michelle was 21 and 2 out of 4 of those self-conscious categories but didn't have any sort of lover or boyfriend.
By narrowing down the subjects' goals and backgrounds, the objective was to be loved and accepted like many—dead or alive.
That wasn't Michelle's case. She was just trying to correct something wrong that happened a long time ago.
About thirty minutes into the class and Michelle's head was about to fall into the pages. The professor, Mr. Hayes, had such a low, life-sucking, undertone voice that could-
From the corner of her eye, she saw a male figure in the door window. Before she could instruct Mr. Hayes of the peeping audience, he had spotted and waved him in.
"Wow," Michelle thought dreamily as she eye-candied the hunk that not walked, but stride into the room.
Thick brown hair touched his shoulders, black shades hid his eyes (odd since he was indoors), and he had a breathtaking sexy, melting libido smile plastered on his face. His attire screamed bad-boy: a faded blue-jean jacket, white T-shirt, jeans that of seen better days, biker boots, and a black backpack slung over one of his shoulders. A bonus was that his clothes hugged his strong and tanned physique.
One thing's for sure, Michelle wasn't the only one ogling him. Other women from the class were whispering to each other and waving flirtatiously at him, and then they'd giggle when he smiled and waved back.
"Well, there goes my chances," Michelle thought sourly. She was a bookworm and most of the women in here were porn-stars. What was Michelle even thinking of giving up her hopes? She wasn't even going to try to get this guy's attention; if anything it was just going to be small hello and she was done for the year on social interactions.
Mr. Hayes grabbed the attention of the class again with an abruptly rude cough before walking to the scrumptious man, holding out his years of experience hand of expecting an excuse note from him.
"Mr. Sexy", as Michelle self-nicknamed him consciously, handed him a slip of paper and waited as Hayes examined it for any flaws.
The same questions seemed to run through everyone's mind in that classroom or it could have been Michele's over-imagination and excited hormones: Was he going to be in this class, what was his name, or was he just a lost student trying to find a different class?
Hayes cleared his throat, "Class this is Mister Philip Brewer, he'll be joining our class for the rest of the semester. Mr. Brewer, why don't you take a seat next to..."
Another question now: where was he going to sit? Every other stand was full and the only one open was-
"Miss Chapters." Hayes finished, then referring back to today's lesson.
Michelle may have been sleep-deprived earlier but she was wide wake now. More than awake, she was shocked, watching with wide eyes as her new neighbor came up the aisle stairs.
"Wait, I'm over thinking this. There's like 5 seats in one table, he'll most likely pick a seat the farthest away since he's new and all," She reassured herself.
Wrong. Philip had passed the three chairs closest to the aisle and now stood on her right, holding out a greeting hand to her. "Hey, Philip Brewer."
Michelle put her hand in his much larger one, shaking hands lightly but she couldn't help notice he had a firm and warm grip; hands that probably drove a woman to her highest passions with each caress. "Michelle Chapters." She responded meekly.
Philip smiled before putting his bag on the floor and took a seat next to her. This morning for him started out going up shit-creek-without-a-paddle. His alarm clock somehow decided to wake him up at noon instead 9a.m., leaving him to miss breakfast because he had to call at least 10 people to give a ride to class and he was still had been late. He could already foresee the professor, Mr. Hayes, giving him snarky looks and comments for the rest of the semester simply because of today's tardiness. Hopefully the girl next to him would be more sympathetic. She seemed nice…and pretty, especially in much closer contact.
Michelle tried to ignore him as he brought out his class utensils but her eyes kept wandering down to his tempting bent over form, admiring his cute Levi covered butt and his jacket and shirt riding up to show a muscular vertebrae with a few scars. She thought she caught a set of bite marks on his side but swiftly brought her eyes to the front of the class as Philip sat straight, again.
He looked over her shoulder at her book, "What page?" he whispered. For a brief moment, Philip let his nose and eyes catch the sweet smell of peaches and cinnamon coming from her and the smooth movements of her breathing, the swell soft mounds going up and down slowly, before he quickly looked back to his book, again.
"Page 335." She whispered back, never removing her sight from the words on the pages.
"Thanks." He cursed then. Of course he would forget something on his first day.
Michelle raised a thin eyebrow at him, "What?"
"I forgot to bring a pencil, do you mind?" He looked at her sheepishly, which to her was kind of cute.
"Sure. I think I have one in my bag." Michelle turned away from him to her side where her backpack laid on the floor and bent over to reach into one of the smaller pockets.
At seeing Michelle in a tempting position, Philip adjusted himself in his seat as his jeans pressed uncomfortably to his semi-hard cock. Though he could tell she was small in stature and the roundness of her hips and breast meant she was incredibly soft, her body was tight with muscles indicating that she was taking care of herself and wasn't helpless. Her heart-shaped ass was so squeezable that his fingers twitched with restraining from the action. With the alluring fantasy of her completely naked and her shapely legs wrapped around him, Philip was so hard he could drive a nail in.
When she got the pencil out and was about to hand it to Philip, she caught him staring at her torso lustfully.
Unable to react to the flirtatious attention because of embarrassment, she released a soft squeak while blushing madly red, quickly putting the pencil by his book before returning to her own or more like hiding in it.
Eventually, her blush disappeared but she was aware of Philip's occasional side-way glances. By the frown on his face, Philip seemed somewhat guilty. Then again, Michelle could be wrong because he was wearing sunglasses...
Michelle scribbled a small note on her paper and then scooted the opened notebook to him.
Philip was kind of surprised that she was giving him some form of communication after he probably seemed like a pervert; considering his part-time job and resources of addictions, maybe he was.
It said in small cursive writing: You should take off your glasses before Mr. Hayes lectures you to death.
At the note she given him, not only was he amused but slightly at touched that she cared even if it was something simple like sunglasses.
Michelle saw a corner of Philip's mouth quirk before he took off his glasses. She could see why he wore them; the skin under the eyes was slightly darker, meaning he must be just as sleep-deprived as she was. They were brown like hers' but more reflective as other shades shown, such as black, brown, and auburn.
"Must have had a late night," she thought before a Cheshire cat grin appeared in her thoughts. "Huh, I wonder how that woman was walking today."
Michelle barely noticed he wrote back till she felt the notebook being nudged against her forearm. It wasn't the neatest writing but readable: "Thanks. And I don't know, I think I rather be dead than to hear him tomorrow."
She smiled and wrote back, "I think I've stayed more awake with zombies."
He covered his mouth, trying to discourage his laughter from the class.
"Browning point for me. Oh great, now I sound like Anita." She thought, not that Michelle didn't like Anita, she just came off a little defensive and harsh like when she corrected Anita this morning with the direct estimate of Elizabeth Bowler's age.
The air around the two was light and warm, both discreetly motioning with their eyes or nods to their classmates that fallen asleep or were fighting sleep with humorous head-rolls, yet Mr. Hayes unnoticeably continued class with his back turned.
Seeing her bright smile, all of Philip's stress he towed this morning just lifted off his shoulders and he felt proud he was the one responsible to making her happy. Also, being able to talk with a beautiful woman without her knowing his addictions or wanting to jump his bones was all new and welcoming to Philip. And he wanted to keep it that way.
Philip then scribbled another message: Hey, sorry if I made you uncomfortable before.
Michelle shrugged one of her shoulders in a "no biggie"motion.
Seeing as though she was the shy one, Philip continued the conversation, wanting to see more of her cute, dainty script and know more about her.
Did you, actually, ever meet zombies? It may have been an odd question verses "what are your hobbies" but she gave an odd answer of seeing the undead. He was curious.
Michelle felt the forced movement of her throat like she had swallowed a wad of cotton balls. This was one of the many questions that when answered, she was labeled an outcast or freak. She had friends like Nicole, Anita, some officers and some clients, but they knew what her job was beforehand. People like Philip—human— usually never wanted to speak to her again afterwards.
Honor, loyalty and self-respect were her backbone of accepting who she was and she would never doubt it… even if it meant losing friends.
Philip witness Michelle's hesitation, maybe a bit fearful, before she written back.
I've risen' them from their graves before.
You're kidding! Amazement clearly in his eyes.
I work at "Livin' Well".
Philip heard rumors of that place, they was as threatening and dark as the rumors for Anita Blake, "The Executioner"; except they defend vampires and werewolves, most of them. All in all, he was impressed.
Cool. What else do you do there?
Michelle wanted to stare at Philip like he grown a second head and sigh in relief at the same time but settled for content smile, feeling a swelling in her chest that he was able to look past that dark role that was her lifestyle.
Raise the dead, defend vampires and Weres from an unjust legal department, and paper work. A lot of paper work.
So I can't pay you to do my homework? Philip played.
Do your own homework, you slacker. Mr. I-Come-During-The-Quarter-Of-The-Semester. Michelle played back with a smirk.
Phillip chuckled, Hey, I just got here. Or you could be my tutor.
Another fantasy shot through Philip's mind. One where it involved Michelle in a sexy teacher's get-up.
Bare, smooth, creamy legs in black high heels and a short dark green pencil-skirt that rounded her hips and ass.
A white button blouse that didn't cover the seductive form of a red lacy bra underneath and was too small to contain her lushes breasts from popping the buttons off.
Her face would be set in a firm teacher's scorn…
Soft petal lips painted fiery red and swollen from their previous tongue-locks…
Her curling bountiful hair placed in a messy bun with rebellious brown locks falling here and there…
Cheeks red in her cute blush…
And smoky-shaded eyes behind sharp glasses that would betray her arousal, the deep chocolate irises glazing over in heated want. God, did he want her now.
Michelle saw spark of lust in his eyes, again, while he smiled innocently at her. Why do I get the feeling there's an innuendo to your meaning of tutor?
A lecherous grin replaced his innocent facade. Because there is.
Lost on how to respond, Michelle just stared at his words but wasn't really looking at them. Michelle's own fantasy was playing out like an enticing porno.
He was sitting in a school chair emanating a bad student persona, his right arm draped behind him over the back rest and slouched in his seat that his butt was laying at the end and legs spread wide.
His hair was tousled around like it never met a comb before…
His brows and eyes set solely on her and promising hot passions…
He still had that sexy, melt-in-your-mouth libido smile which was very inviting…
Philip's strong body was just leather.
His black leather jacket hung off his left strong shoulder and bicep, the right arm disappearing behind the chair. The jacket was left open to tease with smooth, powerful flesh that was his torso…
Lean and muscular…dark areoles at attention…one muscle bugling after another down his abdomen…
Michelle wanted to gasp out loud as her mind played the meanest and crude trick.
Instead of brown wiry hair making an erotic promising path past his bellybutton and into tight black leather pants that coiled around lean muscles in his legs and hips.
She was ensnared of witnessing Philip's large…thick…erect cock jut out of its leather cage, reaching towards his stomach as the crown wept for attention which it received from Philip's large hand...pumping up and down.
Michelle's eyes widen, the image quickly disappearing as it came, feeling the heat rising in her face and in her core before finally looking at Philip. A white flash of instant desire shot through them as their eyes search into the others.
When Philip smiled it was the same one from before, inviting and waiting on her to respond.
Unfortunately for him, the bell had rung which neither could believe how time flied in their short meeting of each other.
Michelle took it as an answered prayer and hurried out of the room and blended in with the rest of the college's students, heading towards the parking lot to find Nick's truck.
The appointment for Guilty Pleasures had been made and she did not want to be late. A horned honked, causing Michelle to spot Nick's truck parked along the sidewalk with her waving her hand out the window like an idiot.
She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder before she could leave in that direction.
Turning around and seeing an out of breath Philip caused Michelle to be slightly guilty for running out like that.
Glad he caught up with, even in his painful aroused state, Philip handed her a piece of paper, "Here, call me sometime." He then sweetly kissed her cheek and ran off to find his ride, feeling he had a small kick in his step and a longing in his heart. He couldn't wait to hear from her or see her, again.
Michelle wasn't sure how she got into Nick's truck till they were back on the road and Nicole asked her a question.
"Who was that John Travolta look-alike?" She asked with a teasing smile.
Not thinking twice about it, she answered breathily, "Philip."
That's when the swarm of questions came flying out of Nicole's mouth, asking how old Philip was and if she want to tangle in the sheets with him. Thank God, they had finally reached Guilty Pleasures; Michelle's didn't think she could take anymore of Nick's prying questions...let alone her raunchy ones.
So that was the revision of chapter 3. Hope you enjoyed Philip having more of an opinion and the boost of romance. Please review and free to ask questions.
Next, Nicole and Michelle enter Guilty Pleasures, who will they meet? DUN-DUN-DUN!