Teal

I sat crisscrossed on my bed, my text book open in my lap. And then the phyla branches off into bacterial organisms... I thought, trying to desperately keep my mind focused on AP Microbiology. I knew I had to be studying, but I kept drifting from topic to topic. My need to study was very high, but my want to study...it was lacking to the say the least.

Buzzzzz. My head snapped up. Despite Clementine's relocation of my phone into another room in effort to prevent any distractions, I could hear the faint buzzing coming from the towel closet beside my bathroom. Springing from my bed and knocking all my notes to the floor, I took off across my suite. 

I jiggled the doorknob. Locked. Oh, Clementine. If you haven't figured it out yet... I thought to myself with a devious smirk. I tugged out a bobby pin from my tight bun and bent it into shape. I placed it inside the knob and quickly picked the lock. It opened with a happy little click. Tearing through neat stacks of towels, I found the contraband safely tucked inside my satin Gucci robe. I tossed the robe to the floor without a care.

"Hey!" I answered, smiling at my phone. The image of my latest fling, Jackson Elliot, popped up. 

"Shouldn't you be studying?" He smirked, cocking his head to the side. I couldn't help but notice his shirt was off and a suggestive expression consumed his handsome face. 

I shrugged and walked back to my room, leaving the closet messy. "Yeah, I should be. Shouldn't you be at practice?" I nodded my head to the baseball uniform on the floor beside him. 

"Got out early," he said, "told Coach I tweaked my wrist and needed some rest before the game." Jackson's lips formed another devious smirk as he dragged his tongue across his already wet lips.

"Is lying to Coach Martin really the best before Finals?"

Jackson scoffed. "Oh please. I could tell Coach Martin to suck my dick and he would still put me in as starting pitcher," his eyes drifted back to the camera, "best pitcher in all of Gotham, remember?"

"And the richest, with the most influence," I joked. He rolled his eyes.

"Are your parents home?" Jackson said, his voice serious and curiously impatient. 

I was a little offended, but didn't let it get to me. "I'm not sure. I'll have to check. Be right back!" I hopped up and clicked the 'up' button on my elevator. When I arrived in the main suite, I approached Clementine. 

"Are Mom and Dad back from the office yet?" I asked, leaning on the freshly-waxed marble counter tops.

Clementine flashed a quick glare my way before answering, "No. Mrs. Brady said they had a dinner after work and wouldn't return home until very late." Clementine went back to work, turning her back to me. I flipped her off before skipping back to the elevator and to my suite.

When I returned, Jackson had slipped on a loose shirt. "So?"

"According to Clem," I smirked, "they're not going to be home until 'very late.'"

"Very late, huh? Code for not until after work tomorrow?"

I grinned, a seductive gleam in my eye. "Definitely."

Jackson got up, slipping on a pair of slides and digging through his drawers. When he found the unopened box of condoms, he turned back to his phone. "I'll be right over."

"I'll buzz you in," I said, hanging up. 

I cleared all my AP, IB, and DE text books and homework off of my bed and desk. Other than my schoolwork, my room was in perfect order. Despite my parents' wishes, I refused to allow Clementine into my room to clean it. I preferred to clean my own room; it gave me a sense of organization and peace. Slipping out of my sweats, I changed into a lace set, a pair of velvet shorts, and a see-through tank top. 

I'm outside. I raced to the entryway, pounding the unlock button. As soon as I heard the elevator shaft start to rise, I darted back to my room. 

Knocks sounded from outside. Jackson didn't wait before stepping inside. I hid inside my closet. I could hear his playful footsteps outside. "Teal, where are you?" He asked, wandering around my room from corner to corner. I covered my mouth with my hand, stifling my giggles. "Teal, I swear to God when I find you..."

When I heard the closet door creak open, I hid behind my evening gowns. The thick material completely covered my thin frame. I held my breath as I heard him take a peak around. I heard his footsteps retreat. 

All the sudden, I was ripped out of my hiding space, knocking several of my dresses off of the hangers. "Jackson!" I screamed as he flung me over his shoulder. My top half dangled down his back as he clamped his hands around my thighs. 

He threw me down on the bed. I laid with my knees up, looking up into his face. He stared down at me. "You were never very good at hide and seek," he mocked, crossing his arms across his wide chest. 

"Maybe I've never really tried to hide from you," I cooed. 

A flash of desire crossed his deep, hazelnut eyes. "So you wanted me to find you then, huh?" He took a step closer to me, crawling over my body as I laid back. My knees grazed his chest as he brought his face close to mine. 

"Maybe," I winked, feeling his hot breath against my face. Aggressively, his lips crashed down onto mine. Without hesitation, his tongue parted my lips and he deepened the kiss. As our lips slid together, his hands trailed down to my chest. Groping, he slipped his hand under my shirt and reached under my body to unhook my bra.

As his lips made their way down my neck, I sat up and allowed him to remove my shirt. He broke our contact for a split second as he tossed off his shirt as well. Laying me back down, he kissed down my stomach and tugged off my shorts. I moaned softly in his ear, running my fingers through his hair. He ripped off his pants as he kissed my inner thigh. He rested his head between my legs, smirking. 

"Are these the panties I bought you in New York?" He asked, his tone cocky.

"Of course, baby," I answered, hooking my legs around his neck. Jackson picked up my hint, dipping his head down.

After all our teenage hormones were expended, we both laid on the floor of my room. I snuggled into his sweaty, bare chest. His arm wrapped around my shoulder, softly stroking my hair. His fingers tangled in my bouncy, wet curls. We both stared up at the intricately painted ceiling. "I love your curls," he said, kissing my forehead, "never straighten them again."

I smiled, blushing softly. "You know that's not how it works. I'm a Gotham figurehead."

"Don't let those pretentious whites tell you what's professional," Jackson groaned, stretching out his tanned arms. Coming from an Asian background, we bonded over our criticism of white privilege. 

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, you know my parents. Do you really think it's me that spends hours straightening my hair and putting in extensions?" 

"I assumed you went to a stylist."

"Well, of course I do," I said matter-of-factly, "but its my mother that drags me there every other day."

Jackson laughed, standing up. He shook his hair with his fingers, flexing slightly. I smiled at him. He grinned lovingly back at me. "I'm gonna go shower. Wanna watch some documentaries when I get back?"

I gasped. "Um, of course I do! I'll use the shower upstairs."

"Or we could share one." Jackson suggested, his face lifted to one side. I rolled my eyes. 

"I don't have time for that. I need to deep condition."

He chuckled. "Alright. I'll order some Italian while I wait for you."

"Hey!" I huffed, "how do you know you're going to finish before me?"

Jackson looked over his shoulder at me. He laughed out loud. "You always tell the best jokes, Teal."

I giggled. "Just make sure to get some cannolis."

"Of course."