"What on earth are you doing?" You hiss to the left of you, your eyes never leave the book in front of you. You can feel the soft brush of fingertips on your leg, and it takes everything you have not to squirm or giggle.
"I'm just… exploring." He whispers darkly into your ear. You've never been more thankful for having a seat at the back of your classroom. Hopefully no one will notice the way your eyes gloss over and your pupils dilate.
"Well you might want to stop before you get caught. We're in class." You're trying to sound annoyed and angry, but it comes out breathy, and you have to hold back a moan when his fingers rush over that ticklish spot just near your knee.
"I know you don't mean that." His hands move higher, resting on your thigh. You don't know how much more of this you can take. He fiddles with the edge of your skirt for a little while, making it seem as though he's focusing on his own book. You think that he's decided to stop, and you're surprised at yourself when you feel slightly sad.
You resume reading your book, but the words on the page seem to blur together. You can't think about anything but him. Him and his hand which has started to move again, rubbing your thigh, moving higher, first above your skirt, then moving back down before slipping underneath.
You thank all that is holy that you wore tights today; skin on skin contact would be way too much for you to handle. You can already feel your cheeks heating up, and your throat is almost painfully tight, the muscles tensing and trying to hold in all sound. You don't dare let them out, the classroom is too silent.
You look over at him, a smug smile is gracing his face but he looks calm and engrossed in his book. For a second you wonder how he's so calm, but then you can't really think anything except "wow, that feels good." Because his hand has brushed over an incredibly sensitive spot, up near your hips.
You let out a shaky breathe and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regain the cool, calm and collected façade that you had. You look at the clock and realize that there's only about 30 seconds until the end of the day, and you almost feel relieved.
Your teacher tells the class to pack away their things and when he pulls his hand away you immediately miss it's warmth, but you don't say anything. You put your bookmark into your book and grab your things, before standing up and pushing in your chair. The bell rings and you hurry off to your locker, not giving him a chance to say anything to you.
You wait back near your locker until most of the other students have left the school, then you slowly saunter over to him, still busy at his locker.
"Hey handsome." You say, a smirk forming on your lips. He looks up at you and immediately stands. You take the chance you have and push him up against the lockers, roughly attaching your lips to his. It's needy and desperate, but it's perfect.
"You," you say, kissing down his neck. "are the biggest tease I have ever met."
"mhmm." Is all he gets out, gripping at your back while you suck a dark mark into his collar bone. When you're satisfied that it will last, you move your lips back up to his and kiss him passionately.
One of your hands slips down and quickly gropes him through his jeans.
And then, you're gone. You push off of him, turn around, and walk away. You make sure to sway your hips more than usual, and you don't look back.
You vaguely hear the sound of him slumping against the lockers, and you smirk to yourself.
Payback's a bitch.