The Prophesied Claim

Doused

Not wanting to appear too earnest for his company, I left the door slightly open and started grading yesterday's history tests. I was frowning and muttering incoherently when I felt eyes on me. Snapping my head up, I collided with those bright green eyes. Though this time they appeared pensive, as though they weren't quite sure what to make of what they saw. As this was a typical reaction to my appearance, I sighed heavily, disappointed. No one had ever looked at me quite like that and been instantly aroused. Quite the opposite. Once they'd really noticed me, they seemed to be motivated in the opposite direction. I started to regret my lack of underwear immediately. Feeling a complete cancellation of any self-confidence I may have developed yesterday.

I stood, "Officer Garrett. How can I help you?"

He raised an eyebrow at my formality, "Alec."

"I don't believe Alec is my student. Should I look him up for you? What's the last name?" I inquired moving toward my computer, all helpful and s**t. He could go to the front office for student look-ups. I was not his servant.

He chuckled, a deep, scratchy sound that did nothing to alleviate the flush that spread from between my legs and crept up my chest. I felt the need to tug up the zipper of my jacket. Closing the door behind him, the automatic lock snicked into place as he loped over to my desk. "My name is Alec. And I don't need to be found."

Shit, again. Now I not only looked like a s*x-crazed maniac, I also looked like a completely obtuse i***t.

My nervous response laugh did nothing to alleviate the tension as my eyes clashed with his. I felt the room heat with the connection, saw his eyes darken, and couldn't help but feel a renewal of that weird confidence I'd developed yesterday. "So, Irish then?" Then, I remembered a bit of the name's origin and flushed even more, Garrett was often said to derive from the word "gar" which meant spear or hard.

"Yes, Irish. And...I know what you're thinking. It's plain on your face, just like this morning"

My guilty eyes flew up to his from their downward appraisal past his duty belt. Those black pants did nothing to hide the shape of his d**k. I could still taste it on my tongue. "You have no idea what I'm thinking." I reprimanded.

"Then tell me." He stepped closer, his hips on a level with my eyes, leaned over the squeaky chair until his hands were caging me in with the armrests.

Defiantly, or maybe recklessly, I pushed my face closer to his, "Garrett is often interpreted to mean spear or hard, possibly hard spear coupled with..." I trailed off as I realized he quite possibly had known what I was thinking. He merely raised an eyebrow at my sudden silence, "fine. You knew what I was thinking. But you didn't this morning. At. All." I punctuated the last with a poke at his chest. He just captured my wrist, his larger hand circling my wrist completely. He slid my hand down his chest, stopping at the buckle of his belt.

"Didn't I. Pretty sure when you were on your knees in front of me, you were thinking about anything but whatever Smith had to say. Pretty sure you forgot he was even there."

I glared at him mutinously, but didn't bother to deny it.

"Want to know what I did after I saw that hickey on the back of your neck?" he questioned, moving his other hand to unzip the jacket and spread the lapels back, investigating the area in question.

"Beat up a sixth grader?" I quipped. The fingers touching his belt clenched on the buckle as I felt his mouth against the bruised spot on my neck. He laved it with his tongue, then bit down, suckling strongly for a moment before whispering in my ear.

"Thought about you bent over in front of me, my c**k slamming into that sweet f*****g p***y. Wanted to do it all over again. Wondered if you'd be wet for me, like you were, dripping."

I was wet. I could feel it coat my thighs, and my knees rubbed together as I swelled even more from his words. His hand still lingered on the zipper of the jacket, so I grasped his wrist and pushed it toward the area in question. His eyes were locked on mine as his wrist caught on the material of my skirt, then slid upward. I could see his pulse pounding in his throat, and felt my own breathe saw out of my lungs as the tips of his fingers brushed through the tiny curls guarding my entrance.

"Alec." I breathed, tilting my hips, trying to get him to slide those fingers inside, wanting to feel them pierce me again and again.

"You aren't wearing any panties." He stated unnecessarily, then thrust his fingers inside. I couldn't stop the moan from escaping, and the sound nearly overshadowed the insistent sound of knocking at my door.

We both froze. His fingers flexed inside me, causing another ripple of desire to rush through my body. The knock came again, more powerful this time, and with a look of regret he pulled away from me. Licking his fingers clean, he walked toward the door. Before he opened it, he glanced back, making sure I was better arranged. Jacket zipped, skirt adjusted. As long as I didn't have to stand, we'd be fine, I thought. With a nod to me, he opened the door.

Principal Smith. f*****g s**t. If there was a person you wanted to see less than your parents when you were about to get off, it was definitely your boss. Alec greeted him in a seemingly normal voice, but I could hear the slight gravel sound that I recognized from our beanbag rendezvous. The sound of a man who'd been about to enjoy himself.

"John, glad you were able to stop by for a minute before we start training today."

I glanced at Alec sharply. He'd known? He'd possibly even invited Smith to show up to my classroom, and still been finger f*****g me at my desk? Then, I remembered. Earlier. He'd said if he got to know me, he was sure he wouldn't be interested any longer. I felt the equivalent of a cold bucket of water thrown over my head. Doused. And sick to my stomach. My face felt frozen as I smiled, carefully ignoring the sudden frown that crossed Alec's face, I stood to welcome my boss.