The Smell of Paint

8.

    
Genevieve stares at her dark purple marks that her Professor left on her. Genevieve starts to get scared knowing that what they did can get them both in so much trouble. She is  worrying that she might get him fired. It can ruin his career. Genevieve doesn't  know the man at all— but why is she worrying that she is going to destroy him.

"Hey Gen? You okay? You look like you seen a..."

Genevieve turning around before Lacey can finish her sentence. Genevieve doesn't try to cover her branding.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT"

Lacey points at Genevieve's neck with her jaw low. Genevieve's face begins  to heat up from embarrassment.

"So this is what came up, huh?" Lacey says with a smile.

"I wish you would have told me that you were getting laid last night. You can tell me whatever, I won't judge you."

Genevieve doesn't have a problem with telling Lacey about anything. But this? How? There was no way she can tell her best friend that her new Professor left red hand print marks on her ass.

Lacey eyes are still on Genevieve's pink and purple blossoms.

"Those look intense! I thought you were innocent"

Lacey walks away to her side, laughing at how red Genevieve's face is red.

If only Lacey really knew.

—————————————————-

After being integrated by Lacey and a nosy band kid about her mystery hook up. It is finally time for her to head to Professor Stone's classroom. Genevieve isn't dreading going but she isn't excited either.

Walking in, Genevieve looks straight at two college pretty, skinny, perfect girls— who are surrounding Professor Stone. Is she jealous? Maybe a tiny bit. But there is no way she can  let it show. Genevieve rolls her shoulders back and walks in like she owns the place. Not looking at Professor Stone.

As Genevieve walks past the Professor— lost in her bad bitch moment. She is stopped in her tracks when a voice she knows too well speaks up.

"Miss. Hernandez, forgetting something?"

What is she forgetting? She turns around fearing to have to look at her fine ass Professor.

Christen lifts Genevieve's painting to her.

"Your painting."

Genevieve looks at her Professor who is showcasing smile. She knows what he is doing and it terrifies her. Not only is he in her view but also the two pretty college girls.

"Right! My fault."

Genevieve says staring back at her Professor. But before she walks away,  her bratty side wants to play games too.

"I wonder what grade I got?"

Genevieve tilts her head and can see her Professor's muscles tense up. She is in trouble now but there is no way they can continue. It is too risky. The two are tying their hardest to get the other out of their minds. It's not easier said then done.

Genevieve takes her painting and walks up to her seat. She sits down and looks at the three people below her.

The two girls are there for what feels like forever. They are hovering over him like he is the last man on earth.

Genevieve tries her best to let it go. But every time she looks up from her book— her Professor is looking right back at her. Genevieve can't stop herself from keeping eye contact. It is turning her on. She needs him to touch, hit, fucking punish her.

Christen sees what he is doing to her. Christen doesn't hold himself back, he wants her to do exactly what he says like the good girl she is.

Class won't start for another ten minutes. He has time to play around. There is only a few students in the class at that moment. Some come in early before their lunch is over.

Genevieve looks up once again, her hoping he will be at her too.But when she does she wished she continued her book instead.

This man really has the guts to mouth the words.

"Touch yourself"

A/N: I woke up to my story having a vote!!!! It's one vote but it's my first one!!!!!! Thank you to the amazing person who did that (⌒▽⌒)