Educated

by Gray Gardner

  Besides the whole name-calling thing, she really wondered why she felt so nervous. Parents always loved her. She could charm like a champ. But… this man threw her so off balance and meeting his family would just send her spiraling either into a cagey heap of stutters or an aggressive fit of rage. She was on the edge of a knife.

  “You’re not going to fall,” Mait suddenly whispered, leaning down to her ear. “And if you do, I’ll catch you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as she blinked up at him. How had he known what she was thinking? He gently took her hand in his and pushed through the large, solid wood front door, but not before flashing her one of his famous I’m-the-hottest-professor-at-Eastland-and-I-know-it smiles. Shit. She was ashamed that it had the same effect on her as it did every other girl and homosexual male within a two mile radius of the school. She melted into a calm, gushy puddle.

  He winked at her and she couldn’t stop herself before letting out a short giggle. God damn it, it was like she was in high school again or something!

  They stepped into the open foyer that had dark hardwood floors with a glimmering crystal chandelier, ice blue walls, and was flanked by two winding staircases. Mait knew what had to be done first. The little hand in his was cold but sweaty with anticipation. His mom could be a very reasonable, forgiving person… and there was only a 50% chance she’d grab Mary by the ear and pull her over her knee.

  “Mom?” he boldly called out, noticing the small strawberry blonde head whip around beside him. If he wasn’t mistaken she’d actually taken a step closer to him and another behind him. His lips turned up into a semi-stifled grin until he heard the click of his mother’s heels from the large family room in the back of the house. Then he pasted on the full, toothy smile.

  “Maitland, my darling boy…” she greeted then stopped dead in her tracks. Her brow rose irritably as her eyes traveled down his side and paused at the half hidden, quivering girl in her foyer. “My dear, what is she doing in my home?”

  As he cleared his throat to make proper introductions and tee up the expected apology, Mary surprised him by taking in a sharp breath and pushing around him.

  “Mrs. Frasier,” she began in a very tiny voice. God, this woman had to be pushing six feet. She swallowed her fear and continued. “My name is Mary Madeline Tucker. We got off on the wrong foot at the Historical Society gala and I just want to tell you, with every ounce of sincerity, that I am so, so, so very sorry about what I said. It was immature and derogatory and totally uncalled for. I hope that you can forgive me in time. I really… I want nothing more than for you to forgive me.”

  Mait was unaware of his mouth hanging wide open, or their audience, for that matter, until Nicole stepped forward and flicked her finger underneath his chin. He finally sucked in a breath and blinked, noticing his sister, Liam, his father, and his grandparents. Everyone silently awaited one of Felicity Frasier’s classic outbursts.

  She brushed her hands down the sides of her black Chanel sweater dress, nodded once at the penitent girl in the middle of her foyer, and then gave everyone a tight lipped smile. “Well, now that that nastiness is out of the way, how about champagne?” she offered, clapping her bejeweled hands together.

  Everyone mumbled in agreement, slowly following her to the back of the house, but casting glances over their shoulders, wondering who in the hell the little blonde girl who’d so fastidiously apologized to the family matriarch was… and what she’d done to the famously hot-tempered woman. Nicole tried to fill everyone in as Mrs. Frasier made her way into the kitchen to check on dinner and Mait turned and caught Mary as she stumbled forward.

  “That was amazing,” he grinned, running a hand down her back and another over her hair adoringly. “I keep saying it. You are full of surprises.”

  “Oh my God, I feel like I blacked out,” she huffed, leaning forward and breathing heavily, unable to suck in enough air. “Did she look like she believed me? Or is she going to eat me for dinner?”

  “She believed you,” he assured her, his arm around her shoulders as he pushed her forward towards the family room. It was the best apology he’d ever heard and he was pleased at the feeling of pride swelling inside him. “Come on, little girl. You need a drink and then we’ll make introductions.”

  “I sweated through my shirt,” she mumbled in a much less confident voice, similar to when he’d first noticed her in class.

  “Trust me, you’re still adorable,” he said as he pressed his hand into her back and the hallway opened up finally into a large family room. The wall opposite of them consisted of iron multi-paned windows that revealed sweeping views of a large lawn surrounded by thick trees. The room itself was recessed, with the same dark hardwood and expensive cream wallpaper. The walls flanking the room contained shelves and shelves of hardback books. As expected, there was an antique card table with a few chairs askew around it… like people had leapt to their feet to see a showdown at the front door… and a wet bar, too, where everyone was currently crowding.

  “Mait!” they all called.

  A strong hand pressed into her lower back, pushing her across the room towards the popping champagne bottles, then slid down so a couple of fingers were splayed across her belt and the tops of her jean pockets. Was he trying to tell her something? She snuck a peek at his face and he just smiled, leading her further into the lion’s den.

  “Hi, Mary!” Nicole enthusiastically greeted, leaning down and air-kissing her cheek. Her blondish brown hair, identical to Mait’s, swung over her shoulder as she bent to Mary’s level. Her red wrap dress and Louboutin heels were certainly smart casual. “I’m so glad you came.”

  She was? Mary forced a smile as Liam handed her a delicate crystal champagne flute.

  “It’s very nice to see you again.” He grinned, looking totally genuine. His light gray sweater and slacks with black loafers… smart casual.

  Okay. Maybe these people didn’t hate her. But surely they thought she wasn’t good enough for their precious Mait Frasier.

  “Carlson Frasier, so pleased to meet you, my dear,” Mr. Frasier smiled, shaking her hand and squeezing affectionately. Starched white shirt and black slacks, definitely smart casual. He turned to his son and clapped him on the shoulder. “Only took you thirty-five years to bring home a keeper.”

  “I know, Dad,” Mait sighed, grinning at Mary.

  Wait, they all liked her? Even though the Wicked Witch of the East Coast absolutely abhorred her? Was this some kind of a joke at her expense? She shifted her feet as she looked down at the floor and took a breath.

  Quit thinking the worst of people. And stop thinking the worst of yourself. Her grief therapist’s advice, not her own. She lifted her head up just as the elderly couple in matching crisp white shirts and slacks came forward. Country clubbers, for sure.

  “Carlson Frasier.” The tall man with thinning white hair combed neatly across his head smiled. Uh-oh, this would get confusing. “But everyone calls me G-Daddy, and I expect you to, as well.”

  All she could do was nod and hope her mouth wasn’t hanging open. Surely this sophisticated, well-groomed older gentleman didn’t want her to address him as G-Daddy.

  “And this handsome young woman is my bride, Grammy,” he added, setting his hand on the back of the woman with a face framed by silver waves combed and tamed with hairspray.

  “Um, Grammy,” Mary breathlessly nodded, shaking the woman’s tiny hand. Finally, someone who didn’t completely dwarf her. “I’m Mary Madeline.”

  “What a lovely name,” she softly replied, smiling kindly. Both she and her husband had the kind of accent Mary only recognized from movies… old black and white movies where rich society Americans for some reason sounded like rich society British people. “Now, what was that hullabaloo all about in the foyer?”

  Oh, Grammy.

  “Dinner is served,” announced one half of the foyer hullabaloo.

  The other half quickly downed her champagne in one gulp as soon as the group turned
their backs and began shuffling towards the dining room.

  “Are you okay?” Mait chuckled softly, loving the flush of her cheeks as she nervously watched his family.

  “No, I am not okay!” she quickly spat back at him, her voice barely above a whisper. Those angry blue eyes held a little bit of humor, though, which made him relax a little. The angry-but-I’m-kind of-having-fun face. That was a new one and he loved it. “I can’t tell if everyone likes me or if they’re mocking me because I’m southern white trash come to take their treasured little Mait away.”

  He laughed as he swung his arm around and gave her a hard swat, causing her to stumble forward as they walked through a dark wood paneled hallway.

  “They like you, maybe more than they like me, which is slightly distressing.” He grinned. Then he leaned over and pressed his lips to her ear, stopping her before they turned the corner. “And if I ever hear you refer to yourself as any kind of trash again, I’m going to spank you, then and there, no matter where we are.”

  He felt her shiver and watched as she rolled her shoulders to her ears, then straightened them and moved forward into the dining room with resolve. She was a tenacious little thing; he’d give her that.

  The silver platters arrived as the two women of the Frasier kitchen staff entered through the large double doors of the dining room and began serving. Mary smiled and thanked them, eyeing the other people at the table nervously. Would there be any more confrontation in this forced seclusion? Would she really throw up like she felt she might? And would her ass ever stop tingling? She rubbed her back pocket on her jeans a couple of times before she caught Mait smiling at her, then abruptly stopped and turned back to her plate, sitting up a little straighter. Damn him.

  “So, Maitland, how come you feel as though you suddenly get to slouch around in clothes hardly fit for one of your students?” Mrs. Frasier asked in a too sugary voice.

  Mary pressed her lips together as she stared at her plate. Passive aggressive jab at the only student at the table, huh? Well played.

  “Mom!” Nicole loudly whispered, turning to her right and leaning around Liam so that she could glare at her mother.

  “It’s all right, Nic,” Mait sighed, leaning back in his chair and eating a chunk out of some buttered bread. “I’m on vacation, Mother.”

  “Are you trying to goad me, my darling, with your clothes and attitude and… her?” she hissed, letting her fork clank down on her plate.

  “Mother!” Nicole snapped, frowning at Liam as he held her arm and pulled her down into her chair.

  “Felicity!” the grandparents Frasier scolded in unison.

  “I’m getting another drink,” Mr. Frasier mumbled, standing and turning for the cherry wood table holding all of the crystal decanters by the 16-foot bay windows.

  “Mom!” Mait said at the same time as everyone else, sitting up and leaning forward.

  Mary leaned back in her chair; thankful she was on the end of the table. The grandparents were trying to talk over one another, Mr. Frasier was drinking and refilling his glass over and over again with his back turned on the long, twenty seat table, and Nicole and Liam were glaring daggers at each other and arguing in hushed tones.

  And with all of this going on, Mary finally relaxed. She cut into her veal dribbled with lemon butter sauce and quietly groaned in appreciation as she carefully savored bite after bite. She finally noticed Mait staring at her. “What?” she mumbled, mouth full.

  “You look so… in your element,” he mused, fighting a grin as the arguing around the long table continued.

  “Yeah,” she sighed, actually smiling. She was very much in her element. “Dysfunctional is something well within my wheelhouse.”

  Laughing and trying not to let everyone else see his delight, Mait shook his head and just continued to watch her. She was visibly relaxed, comfortable, and even looked like she was enjoying herself. She was amazing. He had felt a twinge of embarrassment at his family, but for some reason she had just put him totally at ease. Amazing, there was nothing more to it.

  The arguing around the long, polished table continued through the crème brûlée, but Mary happily sipped her champagne as she sat quietly. Mait’s mother was getting an earful from her husband’s parents and both of her children, so she felt that justice was served. Mr. Frasier was totally drunk as he sang, and slurred, Irish tunes by the window.

  “Well,” Mait began, standing up and tossing his napkin down. “This has been swell. Now we have to go.”

  Mary wiped her mouth and stood as everyone began to object. She smiled and quickly thanked everyone as he grabbed her hand and practically yanked her down the hallway and out the front door. Glancing back over her shoulder, she smiled as she realized that their departure barely registered as the family kept arguing with each other in raised voices.

  “I’m really sorry about that,” Mait sighed, swinging her around and pressing her back into the car, bracing his hands on either side of her shoulders. He looked… embarrassed.

  Mary looked up at him and sighed, “Whatever. I had a good time. But if you ever ambush me like that again, then I’m going to take you over my knee. Got it?”

  The twitching of his cock to that statement surprised him a little, but he quickly tried to regain the upper hand. He liked to be the one in control. He smirked as he stared down at her with heated eyes. “You can try all you like, cupcake, but you know who will win a power struggle in the end.”

  She frowned up at him and all of his arrogance. Was he laughing at her? She hated it when he didn’t take her seriously, but his close proximity and delicious smell of fresh soap and shaving cream was fogging her senses. “Just don’t do it again,” she snapped, turning in his embrace and pulling on the door handle.

  The angry face with a twinge of humor. He grinned as he closed the door behind her. That was definitely his new favorite face. Although, that defiant look she kept getting in her eyes was terribly exciting, too.

  And he knew that he would get that face in the morning when he broke more news to her.

  “Wait, wh-what?” Mary breathlessly asked, squeezing her fluffy pillows that surrounded her face and trying to focus as Mait sat on his knees behind her, gripping her hips in his large hands and slowly easing in and out of her in a sumptuous tease.

  He grinned at her inability to focus and then bit his lip at the sight of her creamy back and plump ass as he took her from behind on Friday morning. She was so tight and wet he knew he needed to get to the point or he would totally lose his advantage.

  “I said,” he repeated in a firmer voice, reaching down with a long finger and rubbing her clitoris lightly. “That I have to leave town this afternoon for a conference in Boston, but I’ll be back by lunch on Sunday at the latest.”

  “But,” Mary huffed, her eyes hazing over at his touch. God, why was he so talented and so fucking hot? She wanted to explain to him that they needed to take advantage of the fact that everyone at Eastland was out of town and they could pursue a normal relationship for a few days. Instead she came in a powerful orgasm that lasted about five minutes.

  The second she began to come Mait cried out in relief and let go. He nearly lost all control around her, which wasn’t good since he wanted to be the one in command. It was a new and alarming sensation for him. While he was almost grateful for the Historian’s League conference that weekend and some time away, he couldn’t help the nagging pain in his chest at the idea of being apart from Mary. He needed space but could hardly stand the thought of it.

  They collapsed on her bed and he gathered her little body to his chest, kissing her hair and rubbing her leg as she curled up against him.

  “If you think you can use sex as a buffer every time you have to tell me something I won’t like, then think again,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him with accusatory blue eyes. “Don’t insult my intelligence by assuming that.”

  “I would never,” he grinned, holding up his hands.

  “I’m just…
it’s disappointing that we can’t use this time when the campus is all but deserted to actually go out together and see…”

  He raised an eyebrow at her pause. Then reached out and gently ran his fingertip back and forth underneath her breast as she turned to lie facing him.

  Closing her eyes momentarily, she tried to ignore the instant shot of sensation throughout her entire body and focused on his face. “What it’s like to really date and not hide,” she quickly said, biting her lip as he reached his thumb up to brush across her nipple.

  He agreed. It was a concern of hers that when the semester ended and she wasn’t his student anymore he would totally lose interest in her. She needed to see that it wasn’t true.

  “You think that it’s thrilling for me to have a secret relationship with you,” he stated, still gently teasing her.

  “Well… yes,” she honestly replied, closing her eyes again. They shot back open and she moaned as his warm, wet mouth began bathing her breasts.

  “I need you to trust me. That’s not going to happen,” he whispered, suckling and licking her soft, sweet skin. God, he could spend all day pleasuring her if she’d let him. Another difference between her and his other… conquests. He knew that was also on her mind. “You aren’t like them, Mary Madeline.”

  She opened her eyes when he said that, then looked down at the messy golden brown head of hair at her chest. How in God’s name did he always seem to know what she was thinking? She decided not to discuss it any further when he dipped a hand between her legs and gently pumped in and out of her. She succeeded in concealing from him the sadness she felt at the thought of him abandoning her by screaming and pulling his hair as he gave her another toe-curling orgasm.

  They had barely made it into the kitchen late in the morning and half-dressed before Mait opened his mouth and got the angry face again. Without the humor.

  “Nicole is coming over to spend the weekend here,” Mary repeated his words very evenly as she shut the door to the fridge with a little more force than necessary and slapped the package of turkey bacon on the white tiled island counter.