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Mr. Hardy... Part 2

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By the time class with Mr. Hardy rolled back around I tried even harder to concentrate on actual class. I tried to tell myself that it was all just wishful thinking.  I told myself that it was indeed way too difficult for my nerves to look anyone in their eyes,  especially his.  Was it me,  I wondered,  or was he making sure I was having a difficult time with it? He was suspiciously close to the side of the room where I was sitting, writing on the board and then doing that rapid turn, looking mostly at me when talking to the whole class. And damn if I wasn't falling for it. By the time the end of the class period approached,  I gave up on resisting his charms.  If it was all in my head,  so be it.  At least it would be fun to imagine.  So I let my daydreaming loose.  I stared at his ass, and then when he turned,  I kept my eyes down for a second,  and then looked up at his face as if he was just so fascinating,  smiling just a little bit, just like he was smiling at me just a little bit.  Some days were nearly normal.  He would sit at behind his desk, reading from the textbook,  giving quizzes, stuff like that. I was secretly bummed a little bit on those days. 
It was on one of those days, where I felt like he was hiding his hot body behind his desk,  just to tease me,  that I began to have a new set of thoughts. My imagination had me sitting on the edge of his desk after class,  his hands were cupping my cheeks, my hands were playing with his wavy hair,  and we were kissing, him standing there in front of me, leaning into my body, me with one leg on either side of him, squeezing his hips with my knees.  
Somehow, as if he knew how close to my body  I really wanted him to be, Mr. Hardy, instead of reaching out to hand me papers to pass behind me, brushes past me,  his thigh touching my elbow,  and hands them out one by one. On his way back up the same row,  he brushes my arm again.  I watch him pass out the rest of the papers indifferently and with plenty of space between him and the rest of the students.  So I wasn't imagining it then?  I thought to myself.  There was only  one way to find out.  
I couldn't make myself do it.  It was against policy for a student and professor to be involved. I couldn't just ask if he was into me.  Besides,  I thought,  heart racing subtleties were way more fun. Secret looks,  and brief touches of our fingers. That's what we were doing.  And I knew just by observation that I was the only girl who got that kind of attention. After class one Friday I gathered up my things slowly,  and made myself the last person left to hand in my paper.  I was shaking a bit, as I walked to his desk. Sure enough, when I gave him my paper,  he practically reached for my hand.  I didn't pull away this time, and I didn't look away.  We locked eyes for a minute. This time I was certain there was something there between us.  Mr. Hardy let go of my hand as he took the paper from me.  He shifted his chair and stood up.  I took a step backward, to let him by, and he put his hand on my arm, telling me he would see me later.  I went to grab my bag and turned to head for the door.  He started erasing the board. I couldn't help it, I watched him the same as I always do. Of course he didn't turn around, which was okay too.  'see you. ' I said, and when he finally did turn around I was staring at his happy package. He caught me looking, and this time there was a real smile.  No one else left in the room to hide our secret moment from. 
There's a coffee shop near the campus which,  even though it's cheaper than the Starbucks on campus,  not that many students go to.  They are probably either too lazy or too big of coffee snobs to be seen drinking anything but the big name stuff.  It's why I like the place.  There I was, that same Friday,  sipping on my no name latte and making a feeble attempt to keep my mind on studying for an upcoming quiz,  when someone sits down next to me.  I didn't think anything of it because I was sitting at one of the bar stools along the counter in the back where it's quieter. I don't mind sharing space, so I don't say anything.  I just keep trying to focus on something other than what happened in Mr. Hardy's class earlier. It went well for about ten seconds  before I realized who was beside me.  Mr. Hardy. It was lucky that I wasn't holding my cup,  because I probably would have dropped it in surprise. 
'Hey.' he says,  just as casually as if this were our normal hangout.  
'Hi,  Mr. Hardy.' I say. 
He asks me how my classes were going, and other random topics for a few minutes. I answered back just as casually as I could.  Inside, I was far from calm.  My heart was racing, my brain was thinking a million things at once.  Am I getting the right signals,  is he really trying to come onto me, is it all just a coincidence? In between the questions racing through my mind were more intimate scenes, fantasies. 
I finally steadied my shaky hand enough to grab my coffee. We were quiet for a moment while I sipped. Within those silent seconds everything seemed to stop. Mr. Hardy put his hand on my thigh.  I tried,  and failed, to stifle a gasp.  'it's real.' I whisper.  
'what did you say? ' he asked. 
'this... Thing between us. I wasn't sure if I was imagining you... ' I said softly, not sure how to finish the sentence.  
His warm hand was still touching my thigh, and he pulled my knee toward him so that it was leaning against his leg, his hand traveled slowly up my thigh.  'it's real. ' he whispered.  
The bell on the door jingled as someone came in.  We were no longer alone. He put both of his hands back on the table. We both knew to keep this a secret. Still,  he winked and have me a quiet 'shh'. I nodded back with a smile. I wanted one last 'accidental' brush as he got up to leave. He knew it, but didn't give me the satisfaction.  He's such a tease,  I thought, smiling to myself.  I reluctantly went back to my studying and daydreaming.  Only this time I let my imagination really go wild.  So many x rated thoughts.  

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