“No,” I agreed, because it wasn’t; it was positively suicidal.“I—I have to go dismiss the class,” he said, looking up at the sky again. Hi... darkened eyes followed the direction of the storm clouds, headed straight our way.“Okay,” I said, uncrossing my ankles. I slid my legs back from his hips and reluctantly withdrew my fingers from his hair. He was gentle as he helped me down, a far cry from the man who had kissed me roughly against the wall just moments before.“Uh, here,” he said, bending. Let’s reason that out, shall we? Do I look like Professor O’Brien?”“Yes.”“Do I sound like Professor O’Brien?”“Well, yes.”“Do I feel like Professor O’Brien?” Taking Arthur’s hand the Professor pressed it agaist her chest. Letting him feel the soft give of her breast.“...”“Oh that’s right! You can’t fucking answer that one can you! Because you’ve never fucking touched her before! And do you know why that is?”“Because she’s my professor.”“Wrong! It’s because you’re writing names down in the wrong. More

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