The Greek Student

I’d seen him before around campus, sitting alone, reading a book, or looking at his phone. He looked so different than the other boys, with crystal-green eyes under a smoldering scowl and a wild, wavy mane of assorted golds—a lion. His proud cheekbones and angular jaw were just so perfect; I had trouble keeping myself from outright staring at him.

He came up in conversation between me and a friend of mine that worked at the co-op; David knew everything that went on because he sold textbooks and people talked in line as they waited to check out.

“Ah, you’re smitten with Eton, the Greek student.” David had asked me out once, but by the end of the date we realized we would just be better off as friends. I wanted someone with just a little more assertiveness. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiled at me. “You and just about every other female on campus.”

I cringed and looked up at him. “Is it that obvious?”

David laughed at me then his eyes grew wide. He was looking behind me. I froze, a smile leftover from our little gossip session still pasted on my face.

David nodded. “Hey, Eton. Will that be all?”

The blood rushed out of my face and to undeniably hungrier places on my body as I caught a scent of the sea and Eton’s shadow passed over me. Did he look at me? Had he heard our gossip?

I stepped aside so David could ring up Eton’s books while I continued to admire his ass and strong thighs, hinting through his jeans. His big hands worked a few bills from his wallet. I licked my lips like a wolf contemplating a handsome hare for dinner. I’d love to have him for dinner. Definitely dessert.

While Eton was distracted with gathering his bags, David pointed to him, mouthing the words Here’s your chance.

I gawked, unable to will my feet to move or my mouth to work. I switched my gaze to a rack of college logo shirts when Eton turned around suddenly. I felt like the floor would fall away when he looked straight at me. I gave him a sheepish look and he smiled.

“Care to have coffee? I was about to go to the café.”

David gave an exaggerated nod where Eton couldn’t see him and pointed both index fingers towards the door as if to indicate I should go with him. Now.

My mouth fell open. “Okay…” Okay? Okay! That was my clever first word to him? I grumbled inwardly and moved leaden legs to close the distance between us.

He smiled again, his gaze never leaving me and catching mine every opportunity. “I’m Eton.”

“I’m Kitrina,” I responded, daring a little smile. My gaze traveled from those searing-light green eyes to his broad shoulders, his chest, and down lower where my imagination went wild with thoughts of what might be hiding in those jeans.

“We call her Kit,” David said, maybe sensing that I’d gone mentally AWOL.

“Kit? That’s a beautiful name.” Eton smiled like he had no worries in the world. A trait I’d noticed in other international students who were grateful to attend an American college.

“Thanks,” I said, my eyes burning from looking into his.

He offered his hand and after a moment’s hesitation, I took it. It was warm and nearly swallowed mine. We kept walking, at a much slower pace until we reached the café.

We must’ve talked all afternoon. Eton was from Athens, and with the state of his country, seemed concerned for family back home. He told me of how beautiful the Aegean Sea looked from his father’s house.

“You’ve been watching me for some time.” He reached out to pull my sunglasses down my nose. “And I have been watching you.”

My stomach filled with butterflies and I smiled, guilty as charged. “I wasn’t sure how to approach you. How did you know I was interested?”

His smile widened and his green eyes darkened slightly. “People talk.”

 He paid for the coffee despite my objections. He didn’t seem to be in want of money.

“Do you live in the dormitories?” He asked as we walked out to the student parking lot. My mouth fell open when he stopped at a sleek red Ducati 998, a very nice motorcycle and unclipped the helmet from its side.

“Yeah, I live back that way,” I turned to point the direction, and felt his arm encircle my waist. I turned to look up into those green eyes again, so close I could see the small bits of stubble on his chin and cheeks.

He brought his face closer until our lips met and then we kissed his mouth warm, his tongue wild and seeking. He let the helmet drop to the ground from his hand in order to grasp the nape of my neck, sending a flood of heat to blossom between my thighs. He kissed better than I imagined, and his body was hard beneath that pristine white shirt. He broke the kiss, leaving us both gasping.

“I have a studio apartment.” He bent to scoop up the helmet and held it out to me. “If you wish to visit.”

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle,” I mumbled. I took the helmet from him. It was heavy in my hands and idly I wondered if it was on the neck as well. 

“There’s nothing to it. I’ll do all the work. All you need to do is hold on tight.” He laughed. “And try not to crack the back of my skull with your helmeted head.”

I looked at the helmet in my hands and tried to fit my head into it. It smelled like him; a mixture of what could only be described as sea spray and maybe some sandalwood.

He laughed again and stepped close to me. “Here, let me help. It fits snugly around your head so it can protect your brain in case of an accident. Much like an egg in its carton.” He pushed the helmet onto my head, muffling my hearing. “Comfortable?” He peeked at me through the visor and tightened my chin strap.

I nodded, feeling very top-heavy from the weight of the helmet. An excited shiver shot through my body when I sat in place behind him on the bike. His back was hot, interrupted by fresh air as he bent forward and we motored out of the lot. His ribs rose and fell beneath my hands, and on curves, I clung to him as if we’d known one other much longer than a few hours. At a red light, he reached back and rested his hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before putting us in motion again.

His apartment was more than a little ways from campus; it looked as if he’d opted for a lower rent in favor of being walking distance to classes. Hence the bike, I imagined. We parked and climbed the stairs, pausing at his door as he searched his pockets for the key. I stood patiently, looking around us self-consciously as he let us in. I pushed away deeper concerns about coming home with a man I hardly knew; my heart was pattering away like mad and my palms were damp.  This Greek god was interested in me, and he was intelligent, polite, and so good looking.

His apartment was definitely a studio, with windows that stretched nearly floor to ceiling and crown molding around the tops of the walls. Rugs with bright designs covered parts of the hardwood floor. His bed was a simple one, probably purchased from IKEA, as were his bookshelves. On glass side tables, he had very old-looking seashells. He excused himself and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me to stroll past his shelves, scanning the titles of books he might enjoy. Lots of history. A bit of horror, science fiction, an entire shelf dedicated to a major wildlife and world cultural magazine. Philosophy. I reached into my purse to pop a breath mint, just in case.

Eton reappeared from the bathroom and joined me by the books. I opened my mouth to start a conversation about them, but he pulled me into his strong arms instead, the fresh minty smell of mouthwash on his breath. His mouth found mine and we shared a long, languid kiss. I slipped my hands up under his shirt and groaned in his mouth as I found rippled abs. How was I so lucky today? I broke the kiss and licked my lips as I met his gaze.

“Take off your shirt.” I grinned, feeling brave.

He raised an eyebrow. “Take off yours.”

I shrugged and pulled my little gray t-shirt off to stand there in shorts, bra and panties. I thanked my lucky stars I was wearing the cutest set of matching underwear I owned, burnt-velvet black roses over sheer navy blue mesh. He took off his shirt and I exhaled slowly. He was even more sculpted and beautiful than I imagined.

Look for Annice’s conclusion next week!

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~ Annice Sands ~

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Copyright © 2012 Annice Sands

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.