The invitation is not for me/Приглашение не для меня - стр. 8

“What am I doing? Oh, what I'm doing today, and what I'll be doing tomorrow...."

That sounded promising. I was confused. He pulled me to him and kissed me. The thought, "What am I doing?!" flashed at the edge of my consciousness, but I quickly pushed it away. Myself. Could I ever lose my head for once in my life? Finally putting all doubts aside, I responded to the kiss. Andrew pulled me off the floor and stepped under the jets of water. I shrieked in surprise and instinctively wrapped my legs around his hips.

“Good girl," he murmured.

I snorted and kissed him myself, wrapping my arms around his neck. The water was warm, but it felt icy against his skin.

"We were going to take a shower, weren't we?" I asked.

I wriggled out of his arms and grabbed a washcloth and shower gel. I needed to cool down a little. Every time he touched my skin, it seemed to burn. Andrew took the washcloth, ran it over my back and chest, and thinking the washing was over, threw it on the floor. He picked me up and pushed my back against the wall.

"We're going to fall here," I whispered.

Andrew grinned and pushed forward. I exhaled and arched my back in surprise, clutching at his shoulders. The world split into before and after. Finally, lost, I bit his shoulder. Andrew growled, and his movements became stronger and sharper. I dug even harder into the skin on his back, leaving deep nail marks. Andrew exhaled and bit my earlobe.

We didn't fall to the floor after all. Andrew slowly sank to his knees, letting me go.

" Well, now we're washed! " I said.

Andrew laughed and pecked me on the temple. I moved sluggishly, my strength gone. I hope he's taking me to bed.

It was a great escape. I had never felt more ashamed than I did that morning. I struggled to free myself from Andrew's embrace, gathered my clothes, and, dressing on the fly, jumped out of the apartment. Now I didn't even understand what came over me! Probably, my resentment toward my lover, alcohol, and the remnants of pride played their part. Nothing raises self-esteem as much as the opportunity to feel desirable!

Providence decided to take pity on me: I had change from the grocery store in my coat pocket, and I managed to catch a cab almost immediately. My leg didn't go away, only swelled more. Not all of my underwear had been collected, some of it had been left in enemy territory, and my stockings had disappeared even earlier, so I felt as if I'd jumped out into the street without clothes.

The driver was looking at me in the rearview mirror, and I thought he had figured it all out. For a teacher, publicity is the worst. For some reason, teachers are supposed to keep their reputations like a virgin in the Middle Ages.