Intervention

"And where do you think you're going?" I hear a husky familiar voice say. I gasp as I feel a hand wrap around my middle, pulling me back against Miss Adams' warm, curvy body. "Crap," I whisper to myself, feeling my heart skip a beat.

"Last time I checked, we have an English intervention to do..." she speaks in her gravelly voice, her voice laced with authority. "Naughty girl." I bite my lip, feeling my heart rate increase at the sound of those words. "Ah, right... you caught me. Fair play. Take your prey back to your lair, then."

We return to the classroom, and Miss Adams gestures for me to sit down, placing some paper and a pen in front of me. "Now, what you're going to do for me is write a nice long essay about your favourite teacher," she instructs.

I grumble, wondering how long this essay will be. One page? A few pages? I glance down at the paper and see three sheets. Deciding to use them all, I let out a sigh. "I don't have a favourite teacher," I protest.

Miss Adams shakes her head and replies, "Write about me then." I can feel her hand rubbing my back softly, and a shiver runs down my spine. "Fine," I grumble reluctantly, still annoyed at being forced to write about her.

I start writing, struggling to find anything nice to say about her. All I can think about is how attractive and infuriating she is, how she's making my body react in ways it shouldn't. I glance up at her, seeing her watching me intently, her gaze fixed on me.

Miss Adams sits back in her chair, her feet crossed over each other as she rests them on the desk. She starts to grade some papers, while I furiously scribble away on the pages about her. I finish the three pages in less than an hour, dropping them on her desk in a rush to leave. However, before I can move, she grabs my wrist, her long nails digging into my skin.

"Not so fast. I need to check it first," she says, her voice firm. I sigh and reluctantly stand back, crossing my arms and waiting for her reaction.

As she begins reading, I can feel my face heating up with embarrassment. I can't believe I actually wrote those things about her. "Her eyes are like a large lagoon, I can feel myself drowning in them every time we speak." Miss Adams raises an eyebrow, her smirk growing wider. "Well, you certainly didn't hold back, did you, darling? I'm very impressed."

I can feel my face turning even redder as she continues reading, her thumb rubbing against my hand in a comforting gesture. She lets out small noises of approval as she goes through each page, her grip on my wrist tightening slightly.

Finally, she finished reading, and a sly smile appears on her face. "This is very impressive, darling," she says, still holding my wrist. I can feel my heart racing and my cheeks heating up even more.