“Well, I’m certainly no expert on the matter, but I have been married for twenty-five years…” She smiled sweetly.
“I’d say that makes you as much of an expert as anyone.” I smiled back at her.
“But if we agree that equality is a core value within ethics and philosophy, then does it not stand to reason sexuality should reside on the same premise.” She shrugged.
I nodded. Sure as shit made sense to me.
“Don’t get me wrong, men can be men and women can be women. I much prefer my husband do the heavy lifting while I do the … heavy spending.” She chuckled. “But there can be equality even in differences.”
I nodded some more. “Very good,” I responded. “This understanding of equality through reciprocation tends to be very common among the non-sex-hating philosophical minds.” I smirked. “But to be sure, it is a broad topic that studies everything from ethics, morality, persuasion, and crimes again women and children. And like everything else in this field, the answers aren’t simple.” I looked around the room. “I think that’s it for tonight, guys.”
I stayed against the desk nodding and smiling to students as they left. The flirt had stopped Kane as he’d stood, and he was saying something to her. I tried not to watch, and I forced myself to continue smiling at students as they filed out. But I clearly caught the look of anger on the girl’s face when Kane said something to her, and then she stalked straight out of the room. Kane shook his head as he picked his book up from his desk, but then he looked at me and caught me watching him.
His eyebrows shot up as he walked out of the room. “Good night, Professor Hess,” he said.
“Good night, Mr. Thorson.”
When I pulled up in my driveway twenty minutes later, Kane was sitting on my steps waiting for me. As I walked up the sidewalk toward him, he smiled up at me with his elbows planted on his knees.
“Siddhartha, huh?” I cocked my head to the side.
“I have to say, you’re quite impressive at the front of a classroom. Very confident, very professional. And this fucking skirt…” He reached for me, pulling my hips toward him. “…was torture.” He undid the two buttons of my dress shirt just above the waist of my skirt, and then he pulled the fabric apart, creating an opening to my skin. He leaned to it, kissing my stomach. His mouth was warm, and it sent a shudder through my body.
I ran my fingers through his hair, and he looked up at me even as his mouth still sucked on my stomach. When he finally pulled back, he smiled.
“If that shithead winks at you one more time I’m going to punch him. I wink at you, not him.”
I laughed loudly at that. “I’ll have to kick you out of my class if you hurt one of my students.”
“You could kick him out for being a douche bag,” he suggested as he stood from the steps.
“You know, when you’re not verbally bitch-slapping the guys in the class or swooning the women, you’re actually a very good student. You’re incredibly smart?”
“Not as smart as you,” he said sweetly as he leaned to my lips.
I pulled back before he could kiss me. “You were the one chosen to be in the Talented and Gifted Program in fifth grade, not me.”
“You’re still bitter about that aren’t you?” He smiled. “As it turns out, it didn’t really matter. My father didn’t find value in such things.”
I nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.” I reached for him, stepping close to his body and looking up at him. “Did it ever occur to you maybe that laid-back, cool kid, troublemaker persona you had was just your way of deflecting the disappointment of all the things you couldn’t have but deserved?”
“No, baby,” he said sarcastically. “That never occurred to my genius fucking self.” He smirked.
He reached down, grabbing a small black gift bag with pink tissue paper from the steps that I’d not even noticed before. I eyed it curiously for a moment.
“Take me to bed,” he said as he leaned down and finally kissed my lips. “And we’ll talk all about what’s in the bag.”
I cocked my head to the side, but then I passed him and walked up the steps to the front door. “Did you get the cupboards installed?”
“I did. I barely survived so many hours with Shawn, but … it’s done.”
“What’s left to do?”
“Aside from a shitload of painting, the bathroom still needs a lot of work, I still have to extend the hardwoods into the hallway and bedrooms, trim work throughout, new doors, new light fixtures, which I still have to pick out, and then … nothing.”
I pushed the door open. “Sounds like you’re getting close, though.”
He closed the door behind us. “The bathroom will take a bit of time. New vanity, new floor, new wall tile around the clawfoot tub, but hopefully within a few weeks, it’ll be ready to go on the market.”