Instead of You(63)

“Yes,” I breathed. His lips smiled against mine, but I gasped when his hand yanked on the crook of my knee, hauling my leg up and over his hip. He rolled his pelvis into me, his hardness rubbing against my clit, the roughness of his denim no match for the cotton of my panties. I whimpered into his mouth, trying hard to be as silent as possible.

“At night, I lie in my bed and imagine you underneath me again, think of all the ways I can explore your body, and it kills me that you’re not there when I wake up.” His hand disappeared from my breast and I jumped when I felt it between my legs, slowly moving my panties aside, and gently pushing into me. I didn’t have his mouth to swallow my cries, so I bit my bottom lip, hoping to contain the screams wanting to break free. His movements were a strange and addictive mixture of needy and loving. He touched me because he needed to, but he did it with tenderness and gratitude. I’d never felt more desired than in that moment.

My body shuddered at his touch, but my heart filled with hope for the day when waking up in Hayes’s arms was a possibility. A day when we weren’t hiding in equipment rooms from other teachers or students, or his mother, or my parents.

“What are you thinking, Kenz?” he asked, two fingers disappearing inside of me. I gasped at first, my body reacting to being full again, but then I managed a response.

“I’m thinking that I love you.” I managed to say the words, but they were soft, quite nearly a moan. I saw his cheeks bunch slightly and knew he was smiling, but I gasped again as his thumb stroked my clit.

“That’s sweet, babe, and I love you too. But my thoughts are a lot dirtier at the moment.” All I could do was hold back a cry as he increased the pressure of his thumb, the depth of his fingers. His face moved and suddenly his mouth was at my ear, his words rushing past with fast breaths, making my entire body pulse. “I’m thinking about how wet you were when I slid my fingers inside of you. How you were waiting in this dark room, hoping I’d come here and touch you. You’ve missed me just as much as I’ve missed you.” His words were like sandpaper scratching against me. I felt them everywhere.

“Hayes.” I managed a strangled cry just before I came apart. His mouth slanted over mine, taking any noises from me, as his fingers continued to lazily dip in and out. He dropped my knee and had I not been leaning against the wall I would have toppled over. I was weak and dizzy from him. I lazily reached for his belt, wanting and needing to touch him, to give him the escape he’d given me, but the sound of voices from the hallway caught our attention. They started distant, but grew louder, one voice becoming more prominent than the others.

“I think I left a twenty in the pocket of my uniform last week. I gotta check.”

Hayes’s eyes became wide and mine mirrored his. Someone, it sounded like a student, was headed toward the room we were in. The room in which Hayes had just fingered me to the point of orgasm.

“Quick,” he whispered, stepping away and pulling my skirt down. “Over here.” He took my hand and led me to the rack that stretched along the far side of the room. It was wall-to-wall marching band uniforms. He forced me into the corner, behind the curtain of polyester. He grabbed what looked like a tuba case and placed it in front of our feet, hiding them from view, and we pressed our bodies up against the wall as far as we could. Not even two seconds later the door opened and the light switched on.

Hayes’s fingers squeezed mine as I heard the footsteps move closer. The rack was probably twenty feet long, but in that moment the room was rapidly closing in on me. The clothes around us moved, and somewhere along the line of uniforms I heard the student rifling through them.

“Josh,” came a new voice from the hallway, “if you need money for lunch, I’ll spot you five bucks.”

Josh Miller. Nice guy. Asked me out freshman year, but I wasn’t allowed to date and Cory nearly gave him a black eye. I was sure he’d have loved to find me holding my History teacher’s hand in a room that was dark just a few seconds ago.

“It’s not lunch, bro. I’m supposed to take Kasey to a movie tomorrow and that was my movie money.”

He was slowly making his way down the line. Each second and each uniform that didn’t hold a twenty in the pocket brought him closer to us. Bringing Hayes and me closer to being discovered.

Please let him find his twenty.

Pocket by pocket, he slowly made his way toward our end of the room. I was breathing shallowly, hardly enough air to keep me upright, but Hayes was stone-like.

“Got it,” Josh said excitedly. “Thank God they never wash our uniforms between performances.” There were more rustling noises, but then the sound of footsteps in the hallway got softer and the door clicked shut. We both let out audible breaths. It was a few moments before either of us moved. I was afraid someone would come back, or some other student would wander into the room. But when Hayes’s hand pulled out of mine, I knew he was upset.

He kicked the tuba case out of the way and used his arms to part the uniforms, stepping through them furiously. I stayed behind, back pressed against the wall, unable to move.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” He paced around the room, his hand pushing back his dark brown hair, only to have it flop right back around his face. “This is one big metaphor for our entire relationship, McKenzie. Hiding. We’re hiding.” He stopped and faced the wall he’d previously pushed me up against. “This is bullshit!”