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Post by MICAJAH WAKEFIELD on Apr 16, 2011 11:10:19 GMT -5
To be honest, Cage wasn't paying attention to her purposefully. He didn't want to be reminded of the gentle curves of her, nor did he want to see how the rain made the clothing cling to her. He suspected he would be far too tempted to ignore it all much longer.
Cage's own clothes clung to his muscled body, and he grumbled, really wanting to just strip them off at the door. But then again he had company. [Young company. Cage finally turned to her after taking off his shoes filled with the violent rain, and he faltered a moment, willing his eyes not to glance at the full curves of the Frenchy, the curves that were so ardently pressed to the wet clothes. Damn. If only he could just--
"Of course," Cage offered, interrupting his own thoughts. "Let me go get you some clothes or something to put on while they dry." Cage escaped back to his bedroom, taking a quick moment to strip himself down and dry off a little before shrugging on a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt. His hair stuck up every which way, as opposed ot the normally fairly smooth haristyle he generally sported, and he returned to Adri's side with a towel and a shirt and a pair of boxers, the smallest things he could find.
"Here we are," he said, handing the stack to her. "You might have to roll the boxers up so they won't fall off. I don't really have women's pants on hand here." Cage chuckled softly and looked at her, his dark eyes half brooding, half amused, and all dark and hooded. God why did she have to be there. In his house. Wet as a little rat, but looking positively vital and gorgeous all the same.
He really needed to find himself a woman.
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Post by ADRIENNE DE MARQUE on Apr 16, 2011 12:24:04 GMT -5
Adrienne could not help but looking with longing eyes at her teacher's body, the way his muscles pressed against the wet material, showing them off. She swallowed hard before forcing her eyes down to the ground, nodding when he spoke. "Merci." She whispered softly, keeping her eyes focused on the ground and stayed there until he had returned[.
She looked up when he announced his presence once more, only to find him instead in sweatpants and a t-shirt. She was not quite sure that was any less tempting than the sopping wet clothes, especially with his hair all ruffled as it was. She couldn't say that she honestly disliked his state of undress, but forced that aside and reached to take the clothes and towel instead. "Thank you."
She wrapped the towel around her, attempting to stop where she was dripping on the floor and looked around her for his laundry room. Finally spotting a door she was quite sure lead to such a room, she darted, almost awkwardly, to it and slipped inside, closing the door. Relieved that she had found refuge and was not forced to keep biting her lip and stay under control around her teacher, she slipped out of her clothes.
She came back out a moment later in the borrowed clothes, now clean with damp curls hanging around her. Her own clothes were in the dryer, spinning around through the heat. She only hoped the small amount would mean it would dry quicker. She was not quite sure how much longer she could stay around Mr. Wakefield without doing something stupid.
She smiled thankfully, though it was a little strained, at him. "Thank you for this. I appreciate it." Indeed she had been forced to roll the boxers up so they would not fall off, so now they lapped closer to the tops of her thighs than they would have if they had fit her. She stood awkwardly in the room, the little pit viper who was never at a loss for words now shifting uncomfortably to keep from looking at her English teacher.
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Post by MICAJAH WAKEFIELD on Apr 21, 2011 14:00:50 GMT -5
Cage had watched her, even in her drowned mouse looking state of dress, walk down his hallway, and he blanked enough to not remember to tell her which room was the laundry room. She seemed to find it okay and then he shook his head, going to perch on his couch and turn on the weather channel.
Cage popped his feet up on the coffee table and stretched into the corner of his couch, getting comfortable among the leather and manly, simple pillows on the couch. He drew one arm to bend and perch behind his head to cushion it, and he looked like a picture of typical maleness, stretched out on the leather bachelor's couch lazily. He looked up a little when he heard Adri come into the room, and he took a quick look at her. For some reason, his neighbor downstairs wanted to come to attention as well.
Seeing her in his clothes sent a surge of masculine pride and need through him, something he hadn't expected from his student. Fuck. His student. But Cage was way past imagining that as any barrier, especially since it looked like she would be spending the night according to the radar. He sighed and patted the couch beside him with a smile and then looked at hte TV.
"It looks bad out there. Wind is picked up more too. We're under sever thunderstorm warnings until four in the morning. I may just have to make up the couch bed for you," he mused quietly. Wouldn't want her catching a cold.
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Post by ADRIENNE DE MARQUE on Apr 21, 2011 14:16:39 GMT -5
Adrienne looked up when she heard him pat the couch next to him and she moved awkwardly forward. She moved carefully to sit on the couch, but far to the other end, pulling long legs up carefully to curl beside her and serve as a barrier between their bodies. Slowly she could feel her resolve slowly slipping away simply from the closeness and she cast her eyes over to look at him for a mere moment.
He was the perfect portrait of masculinity, stretched on on his couch and watching the TV idly. His hair was a mess, a contrast to how composed it usually was. What she would give just to be the one to fix it, to smooth the wet strands back into it's place on his head. His words shook her from her reverie, and only then did she realize she was staring. She swallowed her and looked away, back to the T.V. When he mentioned her staying the night, she knew that was the last thing she needed to do. There was no telling what she would do if she did. "I can always call someone from campus to come get me."
She then turned her eyes back to him, licking her lips and looking at his hair again. The urge to run her fingers through it was slowly becoming overwhelming. She rolled her legs up under her to sit on her knees and moved towards him. She threw one leg over his lap, not fully sitting on his legs, but close enough that she brushed him slightly. From this angle, she would be able to see his hair from the front of fix it more effectively.
Her hands came up and carefully smoothed his hair back into it's proper place. She savored the sensation of the soft strands between her fingers as it moved unresisting, back to where it should be. Once she was pleased with how it looked, she started to move off of his lap. "Pardonnez-moi, it was bothering me." She explained softly.
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Post by MICAJAH WAKEFIELD on Apr 21, 2011 14:35:32 GMT -5
Before Cage knew it, he felt Adrienne's body scooting closer to his. At first he believed her to just be scooting closer, maybe because she was cold, but then he felt her straddle his lap, and all of his best intentions disappeared. Cage looked up at her after she fixed his hair, her soft and slender fingers pulling at the strands intoxicatingly, and he couldn't help but admire her pretty face, fresh from the rain.
Cage's hands slid up the lengths of her thighs, bare from the borrowed boxers, and he felt her soft and supple skin with gentle, though callused hands. Cage heard her voice, but not exactly what she was saying, the temptation greater than his concentration at this point. He sighed and kept his hands gently on her thighs, though they longed to explore more.
"You'll have to stay," he replied finally in a hoarse whisper. "We don't want you catching a cold. Teacher knows best, you know." The witty addition to the end was punctuated by a slight smirk, and Cage pulled Adri a little closer subconsciously. He couldn't have escaped her if he even tried. Cage ran his hands up to her back, up under the loose shirt, and he touched her body gently, the care expanse of her toned, slender back underneath his fingertips. She was intoxicating.
"You're a beautiful young woman," Cage offered quietly, settling his hands gently on her hips to urge her to sit, on him as it were. He was going to hell already, he might as well have some fun with it.
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Post by ADRIENNE DE MARQUE on Apr 21, 2011 21:04:38 GMT -5
Adrienne could not help but gasp softly as she felt his hands run over the length of her thighs. She moaned softly, biting down on her bottom lip and allowing her head to tilt forward as his callused hands ran over her skin. His touch was nothing short of intoxicating, but she had to keep herself under control. She couldn't do this, especially not with him.
Then why didn't she feel herself pulling away? "I suppose so." She breathed in reply, feeling his hands now move under the borrowed shirt to run along her spine. She moaned again, but this time a little louder, her face pressing into his neck. She had never allowed anyone to touch her like this, finding distance to be the best alternative to being hurt or betrayed. Of course she was, admittedly, a God awful tease, but she never allowed it to get to this point. She knew she should get up and tell him she couldn't do this.
And yet she found herself sitting slowly down onto his lap as his hands pushed on her hips. She pulled her face back from it's hiding place against his throat to look at him. Her face was flushed, her breathing slightly harder as she gazed at him. She licked her lips, watching him with dark eyes, waiting for him to do something. She refused to make the first move, as enticing as his lips looked at that moment. She wanted a taste, more than anything, but she couldn't.
She refused to be in a position where blame could be placed upon her at all. He had touched her first, he would kiss her first, and in no way could she accept all the blame for this torrid affair.
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Post by MICAJAH WAKEFIELD on Apr 21, 2011 21:26:27 GMT -5
Cage felt her leaning in close and he was intoxicated, enthralled, and drowning in her essence. The feminine scent, the feminine ways about her. All of it converging with the closeness of her thighs around his and her chest pressed up to his and Cage could barely contain himself. Her kissable lips there, his self control in tattered shreds on his emotional form. And then he turned he face away, removing her from his lap and setting her on the couch. He stood and swallowed, rubbing her hair into a messy way again and rubbing his face.
"I can't do this," he whispered out, shaking his head. He looked back at her, curled in his clothes and he sighed and shook his head. He knew of many teachers before, falling into the clutches of a pretty, young high school junior or senior, and falling into a trap that destroyed them and their reputation. Their entire being. All over lust and beauty and youth. Cage wanted her, it was obvious that he did, but he wasn't about to forgo everything for a tartly little thing that would no sooner kiss him than turn that kiss into a way to blackmail all sorts of things from him. Trust was obviously not Cage's strongest suit.
He closed his eyes and sighed, going to the linen closet and retrieving a blanket and an extra pillow, laying them on the free end of the coffee table.
"Goodnight," he said gruffly, and with that he fled to his bedroom.
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