Our lips pressed together, trying to savor the moment. I could feel him beginning to pull away and locked my arms tighter around his neck. My tongue darted out and invaded his mouth, taking in every sweet curve of his delicious tongue. A groan filled his throat and he shoved me against the wall forcefully. His desire was just as strong as my own and that pleased me. I would hate to think that I was the only one enjoying our time together. But, of course, one of us had to be the logical thinker and pull back. It obviously had to be him. He had more experience practicing self control. I, however, was still too young to be able to tear my self away from him. His lips were just too sweet.

His hands began trying to quickly re-button his shirt and I knew it was over. A sigh escaped my lips and my arms slid away from his shoulders. He looked up at my saddened face and frowned.

"You're going to be late for class if we continue." He told me in his smooth, velvety voice. The sound made me melt over him again.

"I don't care." I gave him a devilish grin and began kissing him again. He kissed me back, either unable to resist or to avoid hurting my feeling, I didn't know. But he kissed me and pressed his hips against mine. My own curved to match his movements and he groaned again.

"Leyla…" He mumbled against my lips in protest. I knew he wanted to continue. He very badly wanted to. But, again, he was responsible and had to think logically before things got heated all over again. I rested my head on his shoulder, giving in.

"Fine, ruin all the fun." I said with a pout. He pinched my thigh just below my ass and I squeaked. I bit him lightly below the shirt line. "That one was deserved."

"Sure, sure." He smiled and handed me my book bag. "I'll see you in fifth hour, Miss. Watson. Go to lunch now." I rolled my eyes at his formality.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Harding." I told my English teacher with a wink as he held the door open for me. He nodded his head and walked out of the empty room. After fixing my hair, I walked to lunch with a devious smile playing on my lips.

"Where were you?" Bradley asked as I walked to my usual table. Bradley Davis was my oblivious boyfriend. We'd been together a few months. It wasn't very serious, but I did like him. He was kind of an idiot, a man whore, and a douche bag. I didn't entirely know why I was with him. He was attractive at least…well, sort of. He wasn't anywhere near as good looking as Mr. Riley Harding.

"Mr. Harding was helping me with my essay." I lied easily. He nodded, believing me without question. I sighed and shook my head when he looked away. Gullible and oblivious.

"Hey Leyla!" I turned and saw Rachel and Marissa. Marissa was wrapped up in her boyfriend, Shaun's, arms like she always was. The two of them actually depressed me anytime I saw them together. They were so perfectly compatible and so in love. I envied them completely.

Rachel was a different story. Rachel didn't like guys. She wasn't exactly a lesbian-not saying she wouldn't go for it if given the option-but she couldn't stand men. Anytime she'd get interested and involved with one, they'd hurt her within a week. Despite the fact she will obsess over how hot a certain guy is or how much she'd love to have them alone in a dark room, she's more or less just given up on them altogether.

"Hey." I greeted with a smile, receiving a tight and excited hug from her. Marissa looked up from Shaun with her dark eyes. She was in everywhere beautiful: her features, her mind, her positive outlook on everything, and, most importantly, her eyes. Her eyes were dark but so calming and it was like you could see through them. It was no wonder Shaun was so obsessed with her.

"Hey Ley." That was how she always greeted me. She loved finding new variation of my name. I sat down at the table next to Rachel. "I finished the next chapter. Big plot twist. Want it for next bell?" She asked, sounding excited. Marissa was a writer. She was poetic in some sense and usually wrote about her love for Shaun but she also dipped into fiction stories.

"Of course!" I took the tattered notebook from her and tucked it away just as the bell rang.

"Alright class. Who can tell me the climax of Romeo and Juliet?" Mr. Harding asked the class while I doodled in my notebook, trying not to think of what happened early that day. Someone raised their hand and answered but I droned them out. His was the only voice I ever really listened to in this class. "Correct. Now, who would like to read the next part?" Silence. I looked around and realized suddenly it was a mistake. "Leyla? How bout you read?" He said and I looked him in the eyes. Another mistake on my part as my hormones took over again. Mr. Harding was so unbelievably attractive. He had a sort of…Matthew McConaughey look going for him. His eyes were so dreamy and professional looking that I had to sigh. He gave me a small smile that no one else understood. I knew the exact meaning behind it. He was telling me he felt the same. That it was killing him being in the same classroom as me and not being able to do anything about it.

"Where are we?" I asked in a small, shy voice, which was odd for me. What was this guy doing to me?

"Miss. Watson, do you mind staying after class a moment? I need a word." I stopped short as I gathered my things. Everyone else kept walking, completely oblivious to the exchanged look between me and my teacher.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, trying to stay professional, like he always does. It was my first real attempt and I knew I wasn't any good at it, judging by the seductive tone in my voice.

"Maybe we should have you switched to another class." He said, getting straight to the point. My eyes went wide.

"No! I can't switch. I love your class." I argued stubbornly. How was I supposed to pay attention to the romantic tone of Romeo and Juliet when it was read by the old hag down the hall instead of my passionate Mr. Harding? He sighed and took his glasses off to rub his eyes.

"Well, we can't continue to be in the same class if we're going to be distracted by each other's mere presence." I sat on the edge of his desk and he looked back at me. "What else can we do?" I thought to myself for a moment, trying not to look at him.

"I suppose…we could always…discontinue…our meetings." I said quietly and sorrowfully. He made a noise that sounded like a groan and leaned back in his chair.

"That would be the better idea." He muttered and I barely heard him. My eyes were suddenly wet.

"Ok. Well, I'll get out of your hair then. Have a good day Mr. Harding." I rushed, trying not to cry in front of him.


"I'll see you tomorrow in class." I hurried out the door and to my next class, not caring if I was late. I hadn't realized just how much I cared about him. And now it was over….