This chapter is especially for virus-of-blossoms, because it has some of her so wanted sexy time in it! Her last review was rather heated, so here you go.

Epigraph from 'Why Can't I?' by Liz Phair.

'Problem is, this is just the beginning. We're already wet, and we're gonna go swimming.'

While these inner conflicting thoughts rushed across her teacher's head, Lizzie stood silently on the doorstep, waiting for him to end the conversation.

"I guess I should be going, then," he said with a short smile.

"OK," she said brightly.

"I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"Goodnight," she smiled, and he replied the same, walking down the steps. She waved at him for a few seconds then reached into her bag to fish for her keys.

She was sure she had them here somewhere. She had half a mind to call Mr Harkness back and ask him to bash the door down if she couldn't find them.

He walked away from the scene of temptation and kicked himself. First mentally, then he began to physically take a shot at a nearby wall with his foot. It didn't hurt. What hurt was the idiotic fool he'd made out of himself.

"Damn it! The only fucking chance you get to kiss her and you bail out? You damn bastard!"

His voice was a low, reprimanding growl and he walked away sullenly. Then he stopped and breathed for a few seconds. He bit his lip. He was going to do it. He was going to go back and do it. God damn the consequences, he'd deal with them as and when they came. He just wanted to kiss her.

He stormed back the way he came, head filled with images of her kissing him back with ferocity. He wondered if she was a good kisser.

He walked back to the front of the house and was surprised to see Lizzie still standing there, fishing for something in her bag.

"Lost something?" he called.

"Oh, just my keys. I think I've got them, I just need more light!" she called.

He opened up the gate and walked to her, throwing his bag down against the door.

"Here, let me help," he murmured.

She looked up in gratitude, but before she could say anything or he could offer any form of help, he threw her bag aside, pulled her to him and captured her lips. She gasped at first and didn't know what to do.

That was when Mr Harkness realised that it was her first kiss. She'd never been kissed before. He held her close and put her at ease by slowly kissing her. His kisses were short, soft and deep. He carried on like that for a few seconds until she was comfortable in his arms, her own hands confident enough to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. He took her bottom lip in his mouth, sucking on it slowly, before pulling away and doing the same to her top lip. She let him take charge of her and with one hand at the nape of his neck, she slipped one hand down to wrap around his toned biceps. He tightened his hold on her and she felt the muscles in his arms ripple.

His hands slipped round to the small of her back, pulling her flush to him.

He kissed her again, pressing his tongue softly against her lips. She immediately parted her lips and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, exploring the soft, warm, sweet taste. Her tongue met his in uncertainty and a bolt of fire shot down into his groin. He played with her tongue sensuously for a long time, licking and sucking it until she was breathless. He moved down to her bottom lip again, sucking it into his mouth with his tongue. He pulled away to breathe.

"Mr…Mr Harkness…" she gasped in breathless disbelief, clutching him desperately as she looked up at him. She looked utterly helpless.

"Jack….," he whispered lustfully, gazing at her lips, red and ripe, swollen from his devout attentions, "I want you to call me Jack."

She didn't have time to try out his new name when he captured her lips again, and their kiss became hotter and more urgent. She clutched at his shirt desperately, screwing bunches of fabric in her hands as he ran a hand through her already messed curls.

The sound of his first name on her swollen lips drove him to insanity and he kissed her deeper, faster until he shoved her hard against the wall. She fell against it willingly, Jack's hand sliding down her side to her thigh. He pushed his hand under her dress and grasped her bare thigh, pulling it up around his waist. She let him and murmured his name again, desperate, urgent as she tugged at his shirt. He gritted his teeth, pulling away from her lips unwillingly to unbutton a few bits of his shirt for her. He moved back to her lips again and she immediately ran her hands up his chest. He hooked her other leg around his waist and held her up against the wall with one hand, the other around her neck. She clutched him for support, and they pulled away to breathe.

"Jack…oh, my God…Jack…" she gasped as his lips trailed breathlessly down her neck. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, pushed up against the wall by him. He kissed her neck down to the neckline of her dress, then back up again to her jawline, peppering her pressure point with soft kisses.

Gasping, he drew himself away, bracing her, hands pressed against the wall either side of her. She held herself up by hooking her legs tighter around his waist. He was still taller than her, even when she was like that. He looked down at her with undisguised passion burning in his eyes.

"Jesus, Elizabeth!" he gasped, licking his lips, "No girl's ever made me do that before…oh, fuck…"

She didn't know what to say, panting as she touched her lips.

She threw her head back against the wall and revelled in the newfound feelings coursing through her body. She couldn't identify them. Need, want, passion, desperation, helplessness. They thrilled her beyond measure.

Jack let her down from the wall and pulled her to him again.

"I have to go," he whispered in a low voice.

She stared at him in amazement.

"But, but I—"

"I have to go."
"Jack, please, stay a while, don't go, please—"

"I have to…I have to go."
He pushed away from her and grabbed his back, running down the steps. He stalked away into the night and Lizzie sighed, slipping down against the wall. She let herself in the house and threw herself down on the sofa.