In the darkened classroom, the paintings projected on the screen glowed with color. The professor droned on, dragging his pointer around the projection in random order, at least random to me.
I was interested in the art of the Renaissance, truly I was, but it was so hard to concentrate. My sweaty thighs stuck to the hard wooden seat. The weather had warmed up at least ten degrees from the day before, and it felt like my brain was cooking in that stuffy classroom.
It didn’t help that the professor was tall, if rather bony, which brought my mind back to that oh-so-fine man at Georgette’s reception. I kept imagining Terrence standing there where the professor was, the muscles of his bare back rippling as he pointed at the different elements of the painting we should notice.
I sighed.
“Miss Conway?”
I jerked to attention. The professor was staring at me, his pointer aimed in my direction.
“Er,” I said. “I didn’t catch the question.”
“What other religious imagery is present?”
I tried to remember what he’d already pointed out. “The lily.”
“Very good.”
He moved on to explaining in ponderous detail why the lily was a religious image, and I exhaled with relief. I really, really, really needed to get that Terrence out of my head. He didn’t like me. If he had, it would have been easy enough to find out how to contact me. All he had to do was ask Bear or Rory for my sister Becky’s phone number.
It wasn’t like he was shy. The way he’d held me—I shivered at the memory—and the way he’d talked to my dad showed just how assured he was. Mature, confident, knew what he wanted.
Which wasn’t me.
I’d asked Becky about Terrence. She barely knew him. Rory, her fiancé, knew him a little better. While Rory hadn’t come out and said anything to my face, I got the clear impression Rory thought there was no way Terrence would be interested in me.
Rory hadn’t felt Terrence’s cock rubbing up against my belly.
But I didn’t want to be a mere receptacle, either. Not that Terrence had shown even that much interest.
The overhead lights flicked back on.
“Quiz on Friday,” the professor said, releasing us.
Leaving the classroom, I walked into a blast of heat. Even the covered breezeway felt like no protection from the sun.
Art history was my last class of the day. I should go study for my calculus test. I shuddered at the thought. Calculus, on a day when my brain was already mush. I didn’t even know why I was taking it except my parents and both my sisters said I should. Their reasons all distilled down to opportunities, advantages, and self-discipline.
Today, I decided, I was throwing self-discipline to the wind. It was one of the last hot days of the season, and I was going swimming.
I didn’t even need to go home first. Because I always went to Becky’s to swim, I kept a swimsuit at her apartment. She’d be at work still, but I had a key.
I slogged through the heat of the college parking lot to my car. Swimming sounded better every minute. When I got to my car and opened the door, the heat poured out. Oh yes, swimming pool, here I come.
The great thing about going to Becky’s apartment during the day was everyone was at work and it was easy to find parking. I zipped right into the visitor spot closest to Becky’s apartment. Two minutes later I was unlocking the door and letting myself in.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Checking the fridge, I found a pizza box with two skinny slices left. I put them both on a plate and stuck them in the microwave. While they were heating I slipped out of my clothes. The microwave dinged as I was tying my halter strap. The apartment balcony was in the shade now, so I took the pizza outside and kicked back on her deck chair. It felt absolutely decadent lounging around in my swimsuit and munching on pizza.
Sweatily decadent. Even the shade was sweltering.
Pizza duly disposed of, I headed down to the pool.
Becky’s neighbor with the twin toddler girls was already there. Although we exchanged a few words, she didn’t have a lot of attention to spare for conversation. While one girl cried for mama to look at her, the other ran around to the other side of the pool.
I grinned, remembering when my sisters and I were little. Conquer and divide had worked for us too. But being the youngest, I always got the crying role. Monica and Becky got to do the fun stuff. Now, the only one still at home, I owned all of Mama and Daddy’s attention. Lucky me.
For a few minutes longer I soaked in the Jacuzzi. Despite the high temperatures outside, the hot water surging through the jets was wonderful for relaxing.
Or was, normally. I had the weirdest feeling that someone was watching me, but when I looked around there was just me and the neighbor and her girls. Oh, and the mailman bustled by with his pushcart to the row of boxes.
I lay back in the hot water. The mailboxes clanged as the mailman distributed the mail. He trundled away.
Still I had the uncanny feeling of being watched. My imagination must be working overtime. Too bad it shut down when I was doing calculus. That stuff was positively unreal.
The unheated water in the pool felt bracing after the first shock. I stroked from end to end, avoiding the blow-up sea serpent floating in the deep water.
I swam a few laps, floated, swam some more, floated. Thoughts drifted through my head. The different theorems I’d need to know for the calculus test, the incredible fact that some person actually thought up all this stuff, the weird symbols people used to put messages in paintings, hot guys with hard cocks who couldn’t be bothered to call.
Okay, that last thought wasn’t relaxing at all.
A few vigorous laps should have put Terrence out of my head, but they didn’t. Worse, thinking of him got me hot. Thank goodness my swimsuit bra was padded, because my nipples were hard little marbles. The cool pool water couldn’t even begin to dissipate the heat between my legs.
And he wasn’t even that fine. Okay, he was. I gave in to my dirty thoughts and, slowly stroking the length of the pool, imagined him naked. His hard cock would be quivering with need for me. I’d wrap my arms around his neck and—
Thump.
My head smacked into the side of the pool.
“Are you okay?” the neighbor called.
“I’m fine,” I called back, laughing off my embarrassment. “Just daydreaming.”
Time to daydream myself back to the apartment and get dressed.
The neighbor was leaving the pool also, and we walked back together. Her girls were adorable. Clinging to each other’s hand, they would dart forward and pick up sticks or tiny rocks from the flowerbeds next to the walkway. Then they’d bring their find back to their mama for inspection. Her hands were full of little treasures by the time I said good-bye and climbed the stairs to Becky’s apartment.
I unlocked the door, my back still itching with the sense of unseen eyes on me. After my shower I would put on some lotion and see if that helped my itchy skin.
That was the plan, at least.
Until I closed and locked the door behind me, and the men swarmed out of hiding.