The Educator

Chapter 18: 18

I let the cold water wash the heat off of my body. I am fully naked under the shower head. My heart was

beating rapidly, as if I ran a marathon, as if I was waiting for an exam grade, as if I was waiting for my

pregnancy test to come out negative. My hands rest on the glass wall to help me up. My chest and

collarbones are still red from the hot coffee.

What just happened? Were we about to have sex? Was he about to kiss me? Maybe it wasn’t as I am

thinking it is. Hi hands touched the underside of my thighs. It felt so good. Thinking about what

happened made my legs weak and made me wet, aside from the shower. The way he held me, as if no

other man held me before. I touch my lower part and I was slippery down there.

Again, what happened? Jesus, could it happen again? I want it to happened again. It felt so good. So

different that it is making me light headed. Do I want it to happen again? I felt him hard against me. The

things I could do and the things I could let him do to me.

No!

Yes!

What?

I turn off the shower and I could still feel my burnt area. I pull out my soothing cream and rub it

carefully. I wear a robe carefully so that by morning, my skin would have already recovered from the

trauma. I walk out of the bathroom and I see Elliot standing by the door. He’s wearing just the bottoms

of his pajamas, his lower torso a red, trauma red.

“Hi” he says, “Do you have anything to soothe the pain?”

I nod and arch my back to get the cream from the vanity of the bathroom. I walk up to him and place

small dots on the red areas and carefully spread the cream. We are both silent and I feel like I was

spreading the ointment on him for hours. I could see the quick rise and fall of his belly and I wondered

my eyes to his upper torso, his chest was also rising and falling quickly, which to me, means that his

was breathing fast. I stop and we both look at each other. We are silent for a moment and he reaches

over to touch me but he hesitates.

“Sorry” he whispers, “I don’t know what happened downstairs” he mutters.

“No. I’m sorry” I say quickly. We are both silent again. Dead air consuming us both and neither of us

attempting to leave. I swallow, clear my throat and sit down on the edge of the bed. Elliot is just

standing there, not moving. Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Elliot, what are we doing?” I ask. He stands in front of me, my eyes are leveled to his lower half. He

raises my chin and we meet eye to eye. He rubs his thumb on my left cheek. I stand in front of Elliot.

He touches my waist and I lean closer to him. He tilts hi head to the side, purposefully touching my

nose with his. I wrap my arms around his neck and I pull him close. We indulge ourselves with a wet

but passionate kiss. His hands find their way underneath my thighs and pulls them up, he wraps my

legs around him as we get lost in the kiss.

What the fuck is happening? I like it. I start to love it. I didn’t stop him because it felt so good. It felt

right. We’re married anyway. He pushes my back against the wall of the room and upon bumping, we

manage to fall on the fall without feeling anything but excitement. He pushes my robe back, exposing

my bare skin. He starts touching me, even on the burnt area. I flinch and he pulls back to look at me.

I swallow, “Sorry, it still hurts” I whisper. I pull my robe back in position, covering me up again.

He nods, “It’s okay. I’m sorry” he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night” he says.

I nod, “Yeah, sure, good night” I tell him. He leaves and closes the door behind him. I flop back on the

bed, my legs open and my lower body craving for more. I wanted something to happen and I just know

it. I appreciate Elliot’s sensitivity and respect.

But I want more.

I look over to my side and I see my phone. I reach for it and I start messaging the girls.

“I need some advice. I’m in trouble” I type and hit send and almost immediately, all of the girls have

seen the message and reply.

“What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

“Where’s your husband? Are you with him?”

“Did he hurt you?”

Questions and messages popping left and right and I type, “No” I start the conversation. “I think I want

to sleep with Elliot” I send the message.

Oh boy, here comes the messages.