I'd been psyching myself up since I woke up that morning, going through all the reasons why I should stay enrolled in British Lit. 1.) Dropping the class would give him power over me, 2.) I’d scoured Blackboard for another English elective and, no dice and 3.) Taking his class was the in I needed if I wanted to get revenge. But I’d be lying if I said that revenge was the only thing on my mind. When his lips brushed mine last night, everything faded away. It was short lived, but those few seconds were full of a bliss I hadn’t felt with any other guy. I couldn’t help but fantasize about another kiss, this one trailing over my jaw, down the nape of my neck. A kiss that would be just the beginning. A quick survey of him and I knew he was thinking about it too. My eyes hovered in the crotch arena and I bit my lip, remembering the taste of his salty warmth on my tongue. Stop it, I told myself sternly, willing my eyes up, away from his sculpted chest beneath his dark pinstripe shirt.
