Oh, Professor!
Wandering Minds
CHAPTER FOUR: WANDERING MINDS
Lainey shut the door to his office, quietly, calmly. She was almost stunned out of her mind. Her body felt entirely numb and robotic, her mind whirring with thoughts and images and her body stirring with need and anxiety. It all had just happened so fast... One minute, she was begging for his attention, he seemed to be just an ordinary, calm, out of reach professor. The next she was on his lap, kissing him passionately. And man, was he a good kisser. Her lips felt pouty and nibbled on from his inistent mouth, she felt for a moment he wanted her and nothing else... and then she was practically thrown off his lap, as though she were a broken doll a child had finished playing with. She didn’t want to be the broken rag doll! She thought, her mind settling back into its common periphery of persistency. He can’t do that to me, he doesn’t have control over anything about me. He just happens to be a SEX GOD.
I’m going to talk to him tomorrow, she decided, finally reaching the portrait hole. “Sparrow feathers,” she said, entering the common room. She sat down with some boys who called her over, who thought she was theirs. And she thought of Wood and his kiss, the best kiss she’d ever had, how nice his arms felt around her body, his warmth, his control over her imminent and oh so sensual.
Everything about him screamed sex, and there was so much about him she didn’t understand and didn’t know... why was it that the mystery men always caught her attention? The unpredictable ones always had her enraptured, or, at least the boys she knew were dangerous. She needed excitement, her whole life was so redundant. Straight A’s, Quidditch was fun but came easy to her, no real friends, seeing as the only people who she spent time with were either on her quidditch team or were a group of boys who thought she was theirs only. Boys, that was what she had considered exciting at one point. Then the actions of those boys aged from new and fascinating to mundane and predictable, so she turned to things she didn’t know much about, from the large amount of literature she submerged in. And then once she was familiar with that... she got bored again. And then along comes Mr. SexyQuidditchTeacher and he’s different and exciting. She needed that now, she craved him, more than she’d ever craved anything before.
It wasn’t just infatuation or obsession... it was like she was a magnet who was pulled into him by some unfamiliar force of energy. And she loved every minute of it.
I’ll talk to him tomorrow, she told herself again as she excused herself and retired to her dormitory. As no one else was in there, she sat down to do some homework but found she was unable to concentrate on anything but that kiss and that face.
What if he hadn’t thrown her off his lap? She wondered to herself. He would have kept kissing her, and she would have started to respond more, their tongues in a constant battle. Her hands would knot in his soft brown hair, and his hands would begin to wander over her body; first smoothing up and down her back and sides, then they’d move lower and lower down to grab her ass and pull her hips in closer to his so she could feel his erection against her. She was almost certain he’d be big, and the idea of him moving their kiss forward was so tempting. She was so aroused that because she was alone in the dorm, she dashed to the door and locked it. She knew if she locked it no one would break her spell, knowing she’d be doing something in there not worth interrupting. Her roommates were good about that, at least.
Heart racing, she pulled her robe off to reveal her muggle clothing underneath, and she lay back down on her bed. Lainey undid the button and zipper of her jeans, and slid her hand underneath the waistband of her lacy black panties to caress her already wet folds and continue her fantasy of Oliver Wood...
Thirteen drinks at the Three Broomsticks had given Wood plenty of time to think over the encounter with Lainey, little minx that she was. All he could think about was how much his body ached for her, how wrong it was to do so but how all consuming her presence was. His head pounded, he could almost still taste her sweet strawberry lips, he could still feel her soft mouth against his, feel his tongue in the hot cavern of her mouth. She’d felt so nice against him, she smelled so good and her body was so soft and light that he wanted desperately to feel her again. That kiss and a drunken state of mind had convinced him of one thing: Despite how wrong it was for him to feel the way he did, he wouldn’t be able to rest without more from her.
“Excuse me? Could I get another one o’ these?” Wood slurred to the bartender, holding up his empty glass. The barkeep took a good look at the young man before him, barely scraping the age of 25, who’d been sitting at that barstool for at least five hours, just thinking, and as he’d progressed on the amount of alcohol he’d been consuming, talking to himself.
“Sorry, mate. I’m supposed to cut ye off when you reach this stage.” The man said, taking the empty glass from Oliver.
“Aww, come on, old man! Just one more glass!” The Scotsman smiled, nearly falling off his barstool when he gave the bartender a friendly slap on the shoulder.
“Fraid not, mate. Why dontcha go home to your lass, now. Whoever it is, it’s not worth gettin all rummed up over.” The barkeep advised.
“See, I would now, but it’s a rather complicated situation.” Oliver replied.
“Isn’t everyone’s relationships?” The barkeep laughed, setting down another glass of scotch in front of Oliver, then wiping down the counter in front of Oliver.
“No, no, no, this is different. She’s different.” Wood smiled.
“Ah yes, they always are when they’re new. What, did she reject you?”
“No, no, she wanted it.” Wood laughed, taking a sip of the scotch. “See, I’m just not supposed to do anything with her!”
“She another man’s girl? Unhappy marriage?” The bartender suggested.
“No, nothing like that. Not to my knowledge, anyway. She’s just off limits. Young, too young for me. But, cor, she’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman than this lass.” Wood said, closing his eyes at the thought of her beauty.
“You aren’t so old yourself, mate.” The barkeep laughed. “And as for beautiful, they always are. They’re women, there’s somethin’ about them that commands attention.”
“Got that right!” Wood replied, polishing off the rest of his scotch, fiddling with the glass.
“No matter how beautiful, there’s always one out there for ye. Don’t bother if she’s causin’ you trouble, mate.”
“I’m just worried she is the one. The one out there for me. I’ve been in plenty of accordances, but never felt the kind of energy I feel when I’m with her. There's just something about her that makes me... fuck, I don't know. She’s just so beautiful and interesting and sweet and sexy... I couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect. And I caught a glimpse into her bag, today? She’s smart, too! Reads philosophy or psychology or somethin of the sort. Plato, ever heard of that bloke?” Wood asked.
“Muggle philosopher, sure.” The bartender replied. “What’s your lass doin’ with a book on him?”
“Not sure, didn’t get the chance to ask her.” Wood smiled.
“Interesting, that bloke was. From what me ex-wife always rambled about him, anyway. Then she said somethin about our lack of platonic love, and her spiritual connection to another bloke, and that was that. Bloody Plato.” The man muttered, moving away to take an order.
Oliver left the bar after the alcohol had settled a little more and walked through the Hogwards grounds, around the Quidditch field. He climbed into the stands to sit down and havmomemoment to himself. If McGonagall or Dumbledore saw him this drunk, he’d be fired for sure. He ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh. “Lainey,” He whispered to himself, loving how her name rolled gently off his tongue. “Lainey, Lainey, Lainey...”
“Yes?”
AN: Ooohhh suspense! Now review, and I'll work more on Chapter five right now! In which things just MIGHT get a little further than kissing... or a lot further. You'll just have to wait, review and see, wont you? (EVIL LAUGHTER)