A/N: More than 200 followers, wahoo! AND 100 REVIEWS YOU GUYS *grins* By the way, the whole review thing - I write 3000 words for you, you write 10 for me? Your comments are why I do this, they make me a better writer, and it's amazing and I'm so, so grateful. I'm trying to update as much as I can to thank you for it, so please keep it coming! The 100th reviewer is a guest, "Regalness" so put your honest pants on and send me a PM with your oneshot request! Because I love you all, I will try to do ANY (as in all of them!) oneshot requests I get (as messages please, or tumblr anons (angtequilajolie) if you're shy) within 24 hours of posting this chapter. I also listen to requests you leave in your reviews - such as the desire for more teacher-student stuff - I hope you enjoy this chapter, those who were after that! One more thing: this chapter is very much M rated.
It's okay, she told me I could use it. She actually mentioned it, she said it was okay. I blush, then grin, then look around the bus as if the other people on it might know what I'm thinking about. And what I'm thinking about is my Politics Professor. My gorgeous, sexy Politics Professor, bending me over her desk and-
I scramble to my feet and hurry of the bus, almost missing my stop.
"Where the hell have you been?!"
M's shouting at me as soon as I get into the room. I drop my backpack, plug my phone in to charge, and take a deep breath before I answer.
"I was with Professor Mills."
"ALL NIGHT?"
And I used to wish to have a mother…
"Yes," I say patiently. "Something came up."
"Yeah, I got that much from your text? What, exactly, came up so that you SPENT THE NIGHT WITH YOUR PROFESSOR?"
"Hey, shut up, these walls are thin!" I panic. "And nothing like that, okay. Look, it's private."
"I know everything about you."
She doesn't, but I let her believe it. "It's not my life to tell you about. Sorry, M."
"What could it… Emma, you can't just stay over at your Professor's-"
"It wasn't at her house, okay?"
"What do you mean? Where were you? A hotel?"
"No! Quit asking questions, you're not my mom."
It's low. She holds up her hands in surrender.
"Fine. I was just trying to look out for you."
I sigh. "I know. I just… I can't tell you. All I can say is it's not what you think."
"But you are still into her."
Another sigh. "Yes."
I'm beginning to realise how exhausted I am. I give up on the idea of running for now. What I need to do is sleep. I strip to my underwear and vault into bed, collapsing onto my pillows.
"Emma, should I be worried?" M asks quietly. I pretend to be asleep.
I creep out of the caf, feeling lucky to still have my job. My ears are ringing from the yelling, though. I have the rest of the day off, but solid 7AM starts Monday through Friday. I fantasise about getting another job, one where they don't hate me, but this is convenient and simple and didn't need references… So here I am. I go back to my room, wondering where M got to. I feel guilty, but I'm glad she's not there.
I change into my running clothes. I still feel kind of tired but I know that I'll enjoy it once I get going. And I need to clear my head. I keep thinking about Regina, how I want to see her, how I want to get tested for Henry, how we shouldn't rush things… It's not rushing. I've known her forever. People get married after less time.
My feet pound against the sidewalk. It's another hot day. I feel stiff, my body clock's even more messed up than usual and I didn't know being emotionally drained could affect your muscles but it totally can. I run down to the beach, my safe place, passing what must be hundreds of people. Dyed hair, sunbed tans, steroid abs, designer booty shorts, veneer smiles, rockstar shades. They flash past; I ignore everything. I try not to see, only keeping my eyes open so I don't run into things.
I steady my breathing. My chest hurts. I'm worrying. I run through it; it gets better. The further I run, the clearer I feel. I don't have any answers, I can't cure Henry, I can't change who I am, but as I run, I realise I know exactly what I want. And I know what Regina wants too. I can complicate it as much as I like, but the fact is our desire for each other is simple. Where we go from there is a mess, but the attraction, the connection, the chemistry… They make sense.
I've never been good at being close to people. M's my first real friend and I'm always pushing her away. I don't know how it can work with Regina. I'm not emotionally available, and she doesn't seem to be either - but then, she does, she introduces me to her son and lets me into her life and for a day we're this perfect family… I groan. I'm not going to think about it. It'll work itself out, probably the way things in my life always do. She'll give up on me and I'll get over it. But before she gives up on me…
My fantasies float around as I get to my beach. I strapped my phone to my arm before I left and as I slow down I realise it's buzzing. I answer breathlessly, glancing at the ID to see that it's Regina.
"Hey! Sorry, I was running."
"Oh, I can go. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"No, no, I stopped running, I got to the end. How's Henry?"
"Doing very well. In 'his' bed, tucked up with Jet. He told me very firmly I should go home and get some rest."
I laugh. "Smart kid."
"He loves to listen."
"And how are you?"
"Tired," she admits. "But well."
Why is it so damn hard to talk to her without thinking about kissing her? "Do you want to have dinner?" I ask.
"Yes," she says slowly. "I have some work things, I should spend an hour or so at the office, my inbox has been piling up a little. But we could have a late dinner, if you want."
An idea is forming in my mind. A bad idea. An idea I know she'll love. An idea I'm more than ready for.
"Okay. Why don't you text me when you're about done and I'll come down to your office?"
When she answers, she sounds as if she's heard something in my voice, something about my intentions. There's a switch in her tone. Suddenly she's not the concerned, loving mother. She's Professor Mills, total hardass, pure sex poured into a swanky business suit, fuck me heels clicking on the floor as she sways down the hallway in front of me…
"Very well. I will see you later, Miss Swan."
Yep. She knows. She knows.
I run home, not in the mood to lie on my beach any more, and take an icky dorm shower. I close my eyes and try to put myself back in Regina's bathroom, but the sounds and smells of dorms make it impossible. I dress in my go-to denim shorts and white tank top. I want to leave my hair down but it's too damn hot; I sweep it into a messy bun instead. It's a bit more interesting than a ponytail.
I don't want to take my backpack so I just shove my phone and credit card in my back pocket and carry Carmilla - I will give it to her, though it feels sillier by the minute. She probably won't even like it. I brush my teeth and meet M at our door as I come back from the bathroom.
"You're going out again," she observes.
"Yeah, meeting friends."
"Look, Emma… I'm sorry about earlier. It's your life."
We go into the room. "That's okay. Thanks."
"Just… Be careful, okay?"
I think about what I'm about to do. I'm pretty sure it's the opposite of careful.
"I feel right with her, M. I know it's not a perfect situation, I know she's a professor, I know it's not appropriate… But remember when you met David?"
M looks uncomfortable. We never bring it up any more, but David was with someone else when she met him. And when she first slept with him. It was very complicated, but cheating is always cheating.
"Yeah, but I don't see how-"
"Look. You and David… You felt something so strong, so right, that no matter how many rules you were breaking, it couldn't be wrong. You couldn't help yourself."
"It was inevitable," M says softly.
"Yeah. And with Regina, it's kind of like that." Except neither of us are cheating on anyone, I add in my head, only a little bitterly.
"As you rightly point out, I'm in no position to criticise or judge. I just don't want either of you to get into trouble. And if someone were to get in trouble, she's a hardass and you're a scholarship student with nothing and no one to protect you. It's going to be you."
Nothing and no one. She's right. So right. That's me, that's always been me. Alone. But last night, yesterday… Yesterday I had everything. Yesterday I wasn't alone. And even now, I know Regina's there, I know she wants to see me, I know she respects me, I know she wants me and I want her and somehow I have this hope, this hope that I can have her, that I can call her part of my life, that she and Henry can be my people. Maybe it's stupid. It probably is. But I don't care.
I thought I'd grown out of hope. But as my phone buzzes in my pocket and I check it and see I have a text message from Regina, I realise my heart was like a dormant volcano of hope, and now it's erupting and there's so much hope I can't even hide it. I grin. M sighs.
"That's her?"
"Be happy for me," I tell her, still smiling as I leave the room.
It's only a five minute walk from my dorm to the Politics building. My heart's racing when I get to Regina's office, even though I walked intentionally slowly. The door's open but I knock on it anyway; she's reading something and typing on her computer.
"Professor Mills? You wanted to see me?"
She slowly turns her head and looks at me in a way that can only be described as predatory.
"Shut the door behind you, Miss Swan."
I step into the office, doing as she says. Then I pause. I'm sure. I'm so sure. But I catch her eye and we grin at each other and suddenly I'm just Emma and she's just Regina and she actually giggles. I hold out the book.
"Before… Well, before everything, I was going to lend you this."
She takes it, reading the cover.
"Have you heard of it?" I ask.
"I can't say that I have. Should I?"
I grin wider. "I'm glad you haven't. Read it, sometime. I think you'll love it."
She puts it in her purse.
"I don't have anything for you," she says, sitting on the edge of her desk.
"Well," I say, waggling my eyebrows.
"About that," she says, firming up her expression. She can turn herself into the boss at a moment's notice. "On the phone… I know what you want, Emma. I know why you want it. I want it too. Very much. But I've said before, you deserve-"
"Regina, right now, I think what we both deserve is a break. We need to do something crazy and fun, we need to break the rules, and… We need to put everything else to the side to worry about another day. Another day soon. But another day."
She nods, smiling again. "You would make an excellent politician, you argue perfectly for what you want. One more thing… I know I can be quite… imposing. I enjoy it. But I want to be sure that you will-"
"Regina, I have wanted to do this since my first day in your class. Please?"
She laughs, then suddenly becomes stern again. I feel a flutter in my stomach. She stands up, rolling her neck, then gives me her death glare. I think I might come on the spot.
"Miss Swan. What can I do for you?"
And then there's that wicked smile.
"I…" I stammer.
"Spit it out, Miss Swan. I do not have all day."
"I had to see you," I say. I'm just going with it, I've never done anything like this before but it's so damn exciting, my whole body's vibrating and she hasn't even touched me.
"You see me. Will that be all?"
She rolls her eyes as I struggle for words.
"I need to make up my grade," I say.
"Ah. Because of that atrocity of a paper."
I blush. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"
"It was entirely inappropriate. How do you intend to atone?"
I stare at her lips, so full and red and luscious. She's wearing her red silk shirt (with way too many buttons undone of course) and a black pencil skirt that has to have been designed specifically for her.
"I'll do anything," I whisper. She smiles wickedly, then leans back against the desk. I take a bold step forward.
She crooks a finger, beckoning me. When I'm within reach, she grabs me by my tank top and pulls me right into her, spreading her legs so I'm between them.
"Anything?" she mutters in my ear. I moan at the feel of her hot, sweet breath against my skin. She kisses my neck.
"Yes," I gasp. I feel her teeth graze my skin, then she soothes it with her tongue.
"I have always enjoyed dedicated students," she breathes. She slides her hands around to my ass, pulling me even closer. Our chests bump together and I see the fire in her eyes. She leans in the final inch and kisses me. It's nothing like at her house, it's hard and desperate and passionate and everything I need.
Her tongue pushes past my lips; I take it willingly, tugging at her shirt, undoing another button to give my hands full access to her ample cleavage. I rub her nipples through her lacy bra; she bites down on my bottom lip, then raises her hands to my shoulders.
"I want you to kiss me," she orders.
But I just was- Oh. OH. I drop to my knees. She spreads her legs a little wider. I run my hands up her legs, tracing patterns on her ankles and calves. She moans with anticipation as I reach her skirt and push it up even higher than it's already ridden. I kiss her thigh, just above her knee.
"Do I need to give you a lesson on the female anatomy, Miss Swan?"
Her voice. It's her teaching voice but suddenly it drips sex - and it's not the only thing that's dripping. I kiss higher. She grips the desk with one hand; the other's tangling in my hair, pulling out my bun. I hook my fingers into her panties and tug them down. She has to close her legs a bit for me to get them off; she sighs exasperatedly as I help her, then narrows her eyes as I shove them in my back pocket. I wink.
"They're just panties," I say, using her own logic against her. She puts her legs over my shoulders, pulling me in.
"So far you're getting an F," she says. My face is inches from her sex, I can smell her arousal. I kiss her thigh again, much higher up this time. I reach up, anchoring myself with her ass as I pull her into me. Her hand's in my hair again.
"Miss Swan," she says, either desperately or furiously, I can't even tell.
I decide I'm not really a rebellious student. I press a gentle kiss to her sex, then lick it with a long stroke of my tongue. She's cursing like a sailor but her thighs are pressed pretty tight against my ears. I'm not a huge fan of small spaces but I could stay in this one forever. She's sweet and tangy and deliciously forbidden. I kiss her again, then explore her folds with my tongue, teasing her, avoiding where she wants me most. Her grip on my hair tightens. I dig my fingers into her ass, moving with her rolling hips, then finally I give her clit the attention it deserves. She's so sensitive, it's not going to take much. I press with my tongue, then suck her into my mouth, caressing her until she cries out, her body spasming as another wave of fluid rushes over my face. I guide her through it, maintaining pressure as long as she can take it, helping her ride out the orgasm to the highest point of release.
When I extricate myself from her thighs she's collapsing against her desk. I stand and grin at her. She holds up a finger.
"Professor Mills will be with you in a minute," she says. I wipe my face on the back of my hand, then lean down and kiss her softly, letting her taste.
"What's my grade?" I whisper. She smiles.
"Let me show you."
She sits up, still a little spaced out, then stands and reverses our positions. She untucks her shirt. The buttons are all undone and it falls open. She tugs off my tank top, pushes me against the desk, and undoes my shorts. She's pushed her skirt back down but she looks amazing, her hair's a mess, her lipstick's smudged, and her manicured fingers are gently stroking my abdomen, sneaking lower and lower. She uses her other hand to press us right against each other again, then slips two fingers into my slick heat. I'm so ready for her, I buck my hips involuntarily to take her deeper. She begins a rhythm, pushing into me as she finds my hair again and pulls my head forward so her mouth meets mine.
Her tongue matches the thrust of her fingers; I groan loudly as she sweeps her thumb across my centre. It only takes a few more strokes before I'm exploding around her. She holds me, guiding me as I did her.
She finally removes her fingers; I shudder with pleasure, and almost come again when I see what she does with them next. She looks at me innocently as she licks me off her digits, then moves in for another kiss.
"You okay there?" she asks, chuckling a little. I rest my head against her shoulder, slowing my breathing and grinning like an idiot as I think about where I am and what just happened.
"Amazing," I murmur. She holds me at arm's length, looking me over, then nods, as if to say "job well done". She lets go to do up her buttons, tucks her shirt back in, then picks up my top and helps me into it, too. Then she kisses me again, slow and sweet, and just holds me, tight and safe. I keep breathing, breathing her in. She rubs her hands up and down my back.
"Let me buy you dinner?" she offers. I don't ever want to move, but I assent and reluctantly we move apart.
"May I have my underwear back?" she asks.
"Nope," I say, smiling. She rolls her eyes.
"You're lucky I like you so much."
She picks up her purse and we leave her office. We walk side by side, just two people, casually strolling across campus. When we finally get inside her car she takes my hand, drawing circles on my wrist with her thumb.
"I… I want you to stay with me tonight," she says quietly. "But it is entirely up to you."
I lean over, onto her shoulder. "I want to. I have work, so I'd have to leave really early, but if that's okay-"
"I always wake up early."
I chuckle. "Did you ever eat take out in bed?" I ask suddenly.
"Why on earth would someone do that?"
I grin. "Because that's how you're gonna get me to stay over."
She makes a face. "But my sheets-"
"Won't care. Come on. Let's get burgers."
She laughs. "I haven't eaten a burger since I was in college."
I gasp. "Then we have to."
Still laughing, she starts the engine and we head to the nearest drive through. We get burgers and fries and decaf; she floors it back to her place and I run inside, kicking off my shoes on the way upstairs.
"Pyjamas. Now," I command. She throws a shirt and some sleep shorts at me; I throw them on, not even thinking about showing myself off as I change in front of her, too desperate for my burger. She laughs as I dive for the takeout bag. Similarly attired, she sits on the bed, props herself against her pillows, and eats her burger like a queen as she watches me devour mine.
We finish the food and coffee; I scoot to the bathroom then return and flop against the (now somehow perfectly clear and tidy) bed, sated in every possible way. She brushes her hand over my shoulder then takes her turn in the bathroom, then flips off the lights on her way back to bed. She lies down, then tugs me towards her. I have never been a cuddler, but with Regina, there's nothing I want more than to curl up in her arms.
So I do. Heads touching, smiling in the dark, we wrap our arms around each other, adjusting until we fit perfectly, close as can be, snuggled under the blanket. We don't need to say anything. Neither of us want to. There's no tension, no stress, no worry. It'll come, I'm sure, but right now we just feel good. And for the second time in my life, and in two days, I fall asleep in the safety of someone's arms.