I want this

Blair’s pov.

I pulled out my phone as I walked slightly behind the other students who were exiting the building. I opened a new text, excitement taking over my body.

BLAIR: I have news. Where are you?

Just before I had time to put my phone away, it lit up.

DR REYNOLDS: My office.

The two-word message was enough to convince me to go there. It felt right to give him the news in person. I also had a strange feeling that he was perhaps behind this: did Dr Reynolds give Mr Kent a hint as to which student to choose? No, he didn't seem like the type of professor who did that, especially given our... complicated stance.

One thing I was certain of, our conversation at the museum was a contributing factor to Gary's decision.

I headed upstairs to the last floor. I remembered the last time I had been there, when I showed Dr Reynolds my painting. I shuddered, trying to forget how harshly he had treated me.

I adjusted my trousers, pulling them up, before I knocked on his office door. He softly said "come in", and so I did.

Dr Reynolds was sitting at his desk, the blinds of his office pulled down, only one lamp illuminating the space. He had his head buried in a stack of books. When he glanced up at me, I noticed his eyes scanning my body.

"Let me guess, is this about the interview?" He said, getting up, walking around his desk.

"Why won't you ask your BFF?" I replied cheekily. I stood close to the door, keeping a respectable distance.

He smiled, crossing his arms. "Congratulations, although I can't seem to say the same thing about Kent."

My mouth gapped open. I stepped forward, challenging him. "What's that supposed to mean? You think he made a bad decision?"

"Didn't you hear what I said to you in today's lecture?

Can't think of many artists who'd want to work with someone as... strong-minded as you."

I shook my head, a devilish grin on my face. "Since he has managed to put up with you as a friend, it'll be a walk in the park to deal with me."

He took a step forward, sounding serious. "My attitude is only this way because you leave me no other choice, Mr De Montmorency." We were so close together now that I could reach his chest if I lifted my hand towards him.

"And yet you told me to come here, Felix, so what gives?" I said, clicking my tongue at the end. He couldn't possibly have a stronger comeback than that.

"I did indeed." He said, his tone changing from sassy to candid. "I wanted to see you."

I gulped, realizing he was past the banter and moving somewhere else. "Why?" I asked softly. I inched closer to him, expecting him to push me away. He didn't. Instead, he reached his arms out to me, gently guiding me towards his chest.

I was positive he could hear my heartbeat hammering under my ribs.

"Blair..." He sighed next to my ear, his breath tickling the skin of my neck. It was the first time he called me by my nickname, the favorite way I liked to be called. I absolutely melted under his touch.

He ran a hand through my short hair, but just as quickly as he had done that, he pulled his hand away, suddenly aware of the line he had crossed.

"This is wrong." Dr Reynolds said, not looking at me. I could feel it in his heaving chest that he was battling his consciousness and his desire. I was fighting the same feelings, too. We both tried to resist, to rationalize, to not give into temptation. He is my teacher for goodness' sake, and if that isn’t enough, he is a fellow man.

It was wrong in so many ways, and yet neither of us stepped away.

"It feels right. I want to try out this for the first time," I finally said. I could feel his desire for me in the way he held me, and I wasn't strong enough to pull back. On my tiptoes, I leaned my lips to his.

Dr Reynolds gripped my forearms before our lips met, his face becoming tense and serious.

"After weeks of annoying me, being a class clown, disturbing my lessons, embarrassing me in front of my colleagues, and disrespecting me, you think you can just waltz into my office and, taunt me like this... You're a bad student Blair De Montmorency, you're a very bad boy."

"And you're a very bad teacher, Professor Reynolds."

He held the back of my neck and crashed his lips on mine. Our emotions exploded in a frantic, lustful kiss. We tugged at each other's clothes, both of us wanting to be in control, fighting for dominance. He was stronger than me so, ultimately, he managed to get the upper hand.

With heavy breathes, he backed me up against the door of his office and locked it. He ran his fingers through my hair, my hands gripping the sides of his back.

"Is this what you want?" Dr Reynolds asked me, panting, his hands gliding down my body. "Tell me it isn't just because I lead you on."

Even while kissing fervently, his mind was still plagued with doubts. I understood him perfectly: after all, he was the teacher, he was the oldest, he should be the responsible one, the one in control.

"I want this, I want you." I reassured him.