Make Me Bad: Private Lessons (13 page)

“No, don’t worry about it,” Madison
says, “I’m just finishing up now so it doesn’t make sense for you to meet me.”
She’s quiet again. “Okay. See you at home.”

She hangs up and gives me an
apologetic look. “I’m going to have to go in a few minutes. Cleo is on her way
back.”

“It’s not a problem.” I pull out a
few Euros to pay for our meal. “Are there any plans with the study abroad group
this weekend?” I ask casually.

“Nothing I’ve heard of, but I’ll
check with Cleo. Why? Would you like to come with us if we do something?”

“Well, I don’t really care about
everyone else, but I do like seeing you.”

“I’ll text you if I find something
out. I imagine some people will try to get together.”

“It might be weird if you text me,”
I point out.

“Maybe not. I could say that I have
your number because of our lessons.”

She does have a point. “Or, I could
invite everyone over to my apartment,” I suggest. I’m not crazy about the idea,
but if that means that I get to see her, then it might be worth it.

“That’s an idea,” she says slowly.
“Let me know if you decide to do that and I’ll spread the word.”

“It’s too late to plan something
for tonight,” I say, actually thinking about entertaining. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“I’ll miss you,” Madison says in a
small voice as we stand up. “I was hoping to see more of you this afternoon.”

Her meaning isn’t lost on me.

“I was hoping for the same thing,”
I say in a husky voice. “I could have given you some of those other private
lessons that we were talking about.”

She closes her eyes with anguish.
“Another time.”

“Yes,” I promise. “Another time.”

We walk out to the street and part
ways, purposefully not embracing.

As I head back to my flat, I wonder
what I've just gotten myself into. I’ve knowingly and willingly entered into a
relationship with one of my students.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I spend the rest of Friday night
alone in my apartment, and honestly, I don’t mind it. I play some music and get
caught up writing a new piece for a couple hours. I hate to admit it, but
Madison's on my mind the entire time, and I realize that being with her might
be good for my music too. She’s inspired a piece that I feel really proud of,
and I have a feeling this might just be the beginning of her influence on my
life.

When I’m satisfied enough with the
piece, I make myself some dinner. I’ll go back to a new composition multiple
times, but after I first compose something, I need to walk away and let it sit
for a few days before I go back to it.

I’m not usually one for entertaining
but I'm excited the prospect of having the study abroad students over. Though,
I wonder if it’s the right thing to do. I’m not a social person by nature, but
I imagine that other study abroad advisors probably hosted events for their
students. I, on the other hand, have met my students out at bars. Maybe I
should be organizing some trips around Paris or outside of the city on
weekends?

Shit. I’m a terrible advisor. In
fact, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure that I
am
supposed to
be organizing events for the group. I’m going to need to get on that.

I decide to have the students over
tomorrow night, if they don’t have plans, and I’ll come up with a couple of
ideas for some activities around the city for the next few weeks. Once I have
Madison alone again, I’ll ask her to help me plan a few.

I send her a quick text around nine
in the evening.

Going to have all the students
over for a “Welcome to Paris” night tomorrow evening. I’ll send out an email,
but can you and Cleo spread the word?

She texts back almost instantly.

Sure! That sounds great! Cleo is
excited too. What time? And I will need your address ;)

Hmm. I wonder if she’s told Cleo
about us yet. And she’s right; I need to give her a time. And what the hell is
that weird smiley face? Is it winking at me? She knows my address, but I guess
she’s playing as if she doesn’t know.

Let’s say 7:30. I’ll have wine,
beer and food.

I text her my address since
technically, she shouldn’t know it and shift my focus to tomorrow night.

I look around my apartment and
realize that it doesn’t really need to be cleaned; it feels hardly lived in. I
make a plan for the day and then go to sleep, unable to stop thinking about
Madison.

I wake somewhat early the next
morning, and feel more rested than I have since arriving in Paris. I shower,
get dressed, head out for coffee and buy groceries for the evening. I am by no
means a chef, so I stick to simple things such as bread, bakery goods, meats,
olives and some fruits and vegetables. I drop the food off at the apartment and
head back out to pick up alcohol and a few other drinks. That should be good
enough.

I hear from Madison later in the morning.
She informs me that she and Cleo contacted everyone and most were coming.

As I finish wiping my counters
down, my phone rings. I see that it’s Juliette calling and I don’t answer. It
can’t be a good sign that she is calling only twenty-four hours after our
lunch. I wasn’t expecting such immediate contact from her; I hoped that I could
push her off longer.

I’m more concerned after listening
to her voicemail. She chirps about how lovely it was to see me, and that she
could easily make an extra trip to Paris this week so we could get together
again. She then says that her ex-husband has the girls this coming weekend, but
if I'm able to make it out on Thursday evening, she could make dinner for all
of us. She also lets it slip that I’m
more than welcome
to come visit
over the weekend while she has the place to herself.

Right.

I decide not to respond for a few
days. I would prefer to just ignore it, but I know that would make me look like
a complete asshole.

The rest of the day passes quickly
and soon, it’s almost time for the students to arrive. I have a trip idea for
next weekend, and decide to worry about subsequent trips later.

The first to arrive are Ava and
Grace.

“Hi!” Grace says cheerfully as they
enter. She’s carrying a bottle of white wine and seems completely at ease. Ava
checks me out, and I try not to pay notice to ways she’s looking me up and
down. I’ve gotten a weird vibe from Ava before but I’ve just ignored it.

“Cleo and Maddie told us that you would
have wine, but we thought we would still bring a bottle just in case,” Grace
says, slinging her bag and coat down on one of the chairs and putting the
bottle next to the others.

“No, that’s fine,” I say, “Thanks
for bringing it.”

“This is really nice of you,” Ava
remarks, looking around.

I shrug modestly. “I probably
should have done this earlier. I haven’t been the best advisor.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,”
Ava says somewhat coyly.

A few moments later there’s another
knock at the door and three more students show up. They begin chatting with Ava
and Grace and I slip back into the kitchen to get out the wine glasses.

 I hear more voices enter through the
front door and when I turn around I see Madison standing in the center of the
room, smiling happily at me. She’s dressed in a long plum shirt with leggings
and boots and her hair is hanging down her back.

I smile back at her and go over to
say hi to her and Cleo. I take their coats and come back to find her looking
out the window, craning her neck to see the Eiffel Tower.

“I love the Eiffel Tower,” she
sighs as I come closer. “Is that cliché of me?”

“Not at all.”

I’m called away before I can say
any more and soon there are ten students hanging out in my small living room.
The wine is flowing and everyone seems to be in a good mood. My idea of organizing
a trip to Versailles the following weekend is met with enthusiasm, and I
promise to send out details at the start of the week.

Out of the corner of my eye, I
notice Madison slip into my bedroom to use the bathroom. Everyone is listening
to one of the guys, Jeff, who’s telling a funny story about trying to speak to
the locals in French. I slip into the hall and enter my bedroom, softly
shutting and locking the door behind me. I grab her as she comes out of the
bathroom.

She gasps as I push her up against
the wall.

“What are you doing?” she whispers,
her eyes bright with alarm and desire.

“I can’t see you like this without
touching you.”

I push her against the door and
crush my lips to hers.

I groan softly as Luc kisses me,
but I know we can’t do this now.

“Luc,” I moan, “We can’t.”

“Just for a minute,” he breathes,
sliding his hands up my shirt, and into the cups of my bra.

“Ohh,” I groan as he squeezes at my
breasts, and my nipples harden under his touch.

“You have no idea how much I want
you now,” Luc says in a dark voice, bucking his hips against me so that his
erection rubs against my sex.

“Mmm, I want you, too, but I need
to get back out there.” I force myself to push him away, but he softly pulls me
back. He looks at me with dark eyes and then drops to his knees.

“What are you doing?” I squeal.

He looks up at me seductively.
“Just a taste.”

He then yanks my leggings down.

Oh. My. God.

His hands grip my thighs, squeezing
at my flesh, and then he greedily yanks my underwear down and pushes my legs
further apart. Before I can protest, he pushes his face up between my thighs
and then I feel his hot breath and his warm, wet tongue.

“Oh god, Luc, you can’t,” I pant;
fisting my hands in his hair and leaning my head back against the door for
support.

“Try to stop me,” he threatens, and
I let out a little moan of pleasure. His tongue laps at me again and again, and
I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.

Abruptly, he stops and stands up.
“That’s enough for now,” he says, giving me a sexy smile.

“You’re such a tease! I can’t
believe you just did that!”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.”

“I’m going to head out there. Fix
yourself up and come out a minute later.”

Before I can say anything else, he
slips out the door.

I stand there for a moment unable
to move. I can’t believe he’s just going back out to the party, acting as if
nothing happened after he just buried his face between my legs.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, trying to
gather my thoughts. I open the bathroom door, and quickly fix myself up. I then
hurry out of the bedroom door, wiping my face blank so no one suspects
anything.

Luc is in the kitchen, cutting up
more baguette, and everyone else is sitting on the floor and couches, now
talking about Versailles.

“Hey!” Cleo says as I approach,
“Versailles is going to be amazing, isn’t it?”

I don’t say that I’ve been before
with my parents. “Yes! Definitely.” I ease onto the floor, still feeling the
burning heat between my legs, and force myself to participate in the discussion
about what other sights we can visit while in Paris. I want to volunteer that
if anyone knows best it’s Luc because he’s spent so much time here, but I can’t
since that would give us away.

“You know what else we could
consider?” Luc says, coming back to the group with a plate of fresh baguette
slices and softened butter. “We could consider doing a day trip to London.”

“London?” Grace asks, skeptically.

I smile enthusiastically. I love
London and it’s actually a great idea. “Yeah! It’s only a couple hours if we
take the Eurostar.”

Luc nods. “Maddie’s right. We could
head over in the morning, spend the day and then come back in the evening. We
don’t have to go together. Or we could all go over together but break up to do
separate things. It’s a very easy day trip.”