Anger Management

One-shot Spashley fun. Nothing angsty or porny. Just a little light flirtatious nonsense.

Rated A.

* * * * *

Shifty Eyes coughed discreetly as Little Miss Twinset helped herself to a third cup of the weak, lukewarm coffee that had been left out for them. She looked like she was a couple of years younger than Ashley, but she was dressed in a manner reminiscent of a nineteenth century schoolma’am, with a high-necked white blouse and long, dark purple skirt. Ashley wouldn’t have been surprised if the blouse had been fastened with a cameo at the neck. No-one who looked like that and speed-drank coffee like their life depended on it could possibly be well-adjusted, she mused. If one of them was going to crack at some point, her money was on Twinset.

The only other likely candidate for a major meltdown that she had picked out was Gordon Gekko, the slick creep over by the window who had been tapping furiously at his smartphone since he had arrived. He was a classic Type A personality, with the French-cuffed shirt, monogrammed cufflinks, red silk tie and florid complexion to match. Ashley was willing to bet that he cheated on his wife and his taxes.

Shifty Eyes meanwhile was a good-looking Asian boy, probably about her age and kind of geeky. Nervous energy leaked from his every movement: the jiggling of his knee; the tapping of his fingers on the underside of his chair; the chewing and popping of his gum. He was wearing a very retro t-shirt that said ‘Jesus Saves’ in large block capitals. Underneath, in cursive script, was the addendum ‘…but God invests’. That made her smile.

She looked over at the last person in the room, whom she had mentally dubbed Yo Bro. He was the only one of the five of them who looked completely out of place. The rest of them were projecting tension or at least resentment, but he was sprawled out, his arms stretched out over the backs of the chairs on either side of him, head tipped back and eyes closed. He had one of those weather-beaten but youthful faces that meant you couldn’t quite put an age on him. He might have been anywhere from twenty to thirty-five. He was grinning and his lips seemed to be moving. If she had to hazard a guess, she would have said that he was singing along to some tune in his head, something like Jack Johnson or Seasick Steve. If he had been over forty, she would have pegged him for a Grateful Dead man.

“So, what are you in here for?” Shifty Eyes asked, as he ran his finger around the rim of the paper cup wedged between his legs.

She looked sideways at him. “Traffic violation,” she responded.

Shifty looked confused. “But this is Anger Management. Traffic School’s not even in this building.”

She smirked. “Yeah, well, I took getting the ticket really, really badly. And then the cop took my reaction very, very calmly. And that just made me a lot more pissed and then I really went to town on him.” The Highway Patrolman had not been remotely amused by her attacks on his sexual proclivities or parentage and had given her a second citation for abusive behaviour.

In retrospect, she shouldn’t have picked a lawyer from a billboard which promised the solution to all your traffic court woes for $500. A better lawyer might have got her off with a fine rather than court-ordered Anger Management classes. Weekend court-ordered Anger Management classes, she mused glumly. It was hard to imagine that there could be anything worse in this world than giving up your Saturday and Sunday. No matter how cool detention appeared in 1980s high school movies—especially in the work of John Hughes—Ashley knew that it was not the fun it was often made out to be. For a start, she had never been in detention with chicks as hot as Mia Sara, Ally Sheedy or Mary Stuart Masterson. There had never been wild escapades and she had never made lifelong BFFs.

“What about you?” she asked Shifty Eyes.

“I punched my boss.” He shrugged. “Guy was a prick.”

Ashley nodded. There was certainly no shortage of those in the world.

“What’s your story, man?” Shifty called over to Yo Bro.

“Huh?” The long-haired man sat up and shook his head.

Little Miss Twinset, on her fourth cup of coffee, sat down not far from them, trying to make herself comfortable in the cheap, plastic chair. She attempted to hide the fact that she was eavesdropping, but her feigned nonchalance was unconvincing.

“What you in for?” Shifty asked him again.

“What?” Yo Bro said.

“Well. I punched my boss and—” Shifty paused and gave her a prompting look.

“Ashley.”

“Cool, I’m Duncan.” He extended his hand for her to shake. As she did, she noted that his hand was particularly soft. Whatever his job had been, it wasn’t manual labour. “Ashley here lost it at a cop. How come you’re here today?”

“Miscarriage of justice, dude.” Yo Bro ran his fingers through his hair. “Got arrested for trying to exercise my Constitutional right to freedom of assembly and self-expression.” He lifted his shirt a little and rubbed his flat belly thoughtfully. Whatever age he was, he was in great shape.

“Were you on some kind of political demonstration?” Little Miss Twinset asked, abandoning her pretence of not listening.

“No, I—” He never got a chance to finish his sentence as the door to the room opened and they all turned around to see a young blonde woman who was clutching a leather-bound folder to her chest.

“Right, everyone, let’s all gather ’round,” she announced.

As four of them were already seated and gathered, her comment was obviously directed at Gordon Gekko, who petulantly slid his smartphone into the pocket of his overpriced suit and ambled over to the circle of chairs, his mouth set in a thin, tight line. He sat apart from them and tried to isolate himself further by digging his heels into the ground and pushing the chair backwards. Ashley figured he was just put out because there were no business class seats with special cushions for his over-entitled ass.

“Good, well, shall we get started?” the young woman continued, taking a seat herself. Ashley had been in enough group therapy sessions in her lifetime to appreciate that the set-up always ended up being the therapist sitting facing a semi-circle of people.

She also reflected on her prior thoughts about never having been in detention with any hot chicks and checked the therapist out. In addition to long, blonde hair, she had incredibly blue eyes and a full mouth that made Ashley wonder what it would be like to suck on the lower lip and trace its outline with her tongue. She let her gaze flick down to the young woman’s feet. She was wearing a pair of high-heeled boots that Ashley wouldn’t mind owning herself. Black jeans covered what looked to be shapely legs and slender hips. An unbuttoned shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, was thrown over a white tank top. The outfit promised a lot more than it showed, but it showed enough to more than take the edge off her Saturday morning.

“Well, I’m Spencer Carlin and I’m your court-appointed counsellor for the next two days. I have only have three ground rules.”

Duncan leaned into Ashley and whispered, “The first rule of anger management is that nobody talks about anger management.”

She stifled a chortle as the blonde gave them both a sharp look and continued, “Believe me, I know none of you want to be here and I have heard every excuse known to man, so rule number one is that if you skip out for as much as an hour, for whatever reason, no matter how good you believe that reason to be, you are obliged to sit the entire course again.” She fixed them all with a meaningful stare. “There is no compromise on this rule.”

A couple of them shifted uncomfortably, particularly Gordon Gekko, whose body language got even more tense.

“The second rule,” she stated, “is the usual one about confidentiality and respect. You will respect each other’s opinions, as long as those opinions themselves are not unnecessarily confrontational. We are all civilised grown-ups and we need to act like that at all times, okay?” When no-one said anything, she prompted, “Agreed?”

As they all mumbled their agreement, she opened her folder and picked up a single sheet of typed paper, scanning its contents. “The third rule, by the way, is no cellphones or personal electronic equipment.”

Ashley and Duncan both turned to look at Gordon Gekko, who had folded his arms over his chest and was glaring at the therapist with open hostility.

“Anything that beeps, bleeps or buzzes is getting confiscated,” she added, not bothering to look up from the sheet of paper in her hand. Everyone except Little Miss Twinset took out their phones and made sure they were turned off.

“Well, it looks like you’re all here, so I consider that a good start. Why don’t we go round and do the introductions? I’d like your first name and the reason you’re here, please. Oh, and try to be as honest as possible.” She turned to Yo Bro on her left and asked, “Why don’t you start us off?”

Yo Bro’s name was actually Graydon, which seemed quite patrician for a surfer dude. Despite his laid-back exterior, it turned out that he had been passively-aggressively stalking his ex-girlfriend and verbally abusing both her and her new partner. He had also postered her neighbourhood with a picture of her featuring the slogan ‘Lying, cheating whore’. The final straw had apparently come when he had stepped up his physical campaign against the new boyfriend, and he pressed charges.

Gordon Gekko—real name Dwayne, probably not patrician enough for his liking—had been arrested for being a complete tool. That wasn’t quite the way that he put it, but that was what Ashley took from his statements, which detailed something about an escalating feud with his neighbours over the boundary line between their properties.

Gloria, AKA Little Miss Twinset, had gone completely postal in her local grocery store because someone had cut in line at the deli counter. Despite herself, Ashley was impressed when Gloria admitted to several thousand dollars’ worth of damage.

Duncan had punched his boss because he had laid off another member of staff, someone Duncan hardly even knew, by leaving a Post-it note on her computer screen with a smiley face on the bottom of it. Ashley had to suppress her desire to high-five him for it. She did the next best thing and gave him a grin of support.

“And what about you?” Spencer finally asked.

“My name’s Ashley and I’m here for calling a cop a cock-sucking bastard.”

“That’s it?” The blonde’s tone was even, but her eyebrows raised just a little. Compared to everyone else, it didn’t exactly sound like a good reason for being assigned to anger management classes.

“Well, I might have said a few other things besides. And I said them loudly, all up in his face. And I was stupid enough to get myself a shitty lawyer,” she allowed. “It wasn’t really my first time at the rodeo, as it were.” Eyebrows were raised once again, so Ashley supplied, “A couple of prior DUIs, some speeding tickets and a whole pile of bullshit citations for public nuisance.”

Dr Carlin swallowed a little smile at that which Ashley didn’t miss. “What sort of public nuisance?”

“Oh,” she waved her hand dismissively, “these were all when I was a teenager. I made some noise, got a little drunk in public, slapped some bitches, the usual sort of teenage thing.” She straightened up in her chair and fixed the blonde with her best down-and-dirty-voice-with-added-flirty-glance combo. “But I’m all grown up now, Doc.” She was pleased to note that a little colour had reached the young therapist’s cheeks.

“I’m not a doctor. I’m a counsellor.” She gave a snide little grin. “But, if you think you need more professional help than I can offer, my father is a doctor of psychology and I’d be happy to facilitate a referral. That would, of course, be in addition to completing anger management, not instead of.”

Ashley’s eyebrows raised. So, the blonde was feisty? Well, that was just the sort of challenge she loved.

“No, I bet you’re all I’m gonna need,” she replied, her voice dripping with innuendo.

“Already, I’m sensing that’s not even close to the truth,” the blonde reflected dismissively, apparently ignoring Ashley’s heavy flirtation. Duncan, however, caught the not-very-subtle undertone to her comment and grinned to himself.

The focus once again moved from her and around the group as not-Doctor Carlin pushed Yo Bro to explore in more detail the reasons behind his aggressive behaviour.

“Player,” Duncan hissed.

“Nah, I’m just—” She paused as she considered the blonde, who was no longer looking in their direction, having turned in her chair to more fully face Yo Bro. Something in Ashley knew, however, that the therapist was aware of being regarded. It was too soon to tell whether the blonde was irritated or intrigued by the attention, though. “I’m definitely interested.”

“Good taste. She’s hot.”

Ashley looked Spencer up and down again, letting herself imagine that lithe frame without clothing. “Oh, yes. She most definitely is.”

“Ashley, Duncan, turning up is not enough,” the woman in question admonished. “Respect includes shutting up and listening when you’re not directly participating. If you don’t want to be re-taking this course over and over until you’re collecting social security and wearing adult diapers, then you’ll pay attention, thank you.”

“All kinds of hot,” Ashley murmured. From the colour in Spencer’s cheeks, she guessed that the blonde had heard her. There was something so utterly charming about the way that the young woman blushed. She wondered if that fush covered her chest as well.

She looked up from her musings to see that the conversation had moved on. Spencer was getting Gordon Gekko to explain the complex series of suit and counter-suit that he and his neighbours had been filing against each other in various courts. Ashley’s hand was itching to turn her phone back on and surf the internet or at least check out the Angry Birds update she’d downloaded that morning. She made it through to lunchtime only by conducting a silent running commentary with Duncan via their facial expressions.

As soon as they were given the all-clear to take a forty-five minute break, Ashley rushed over to Spencer before the young woman could leave.

“So, what’s your policy on coffee?” she asked, positioning herself between Spencer and the door, her voice low enough that only the two of them could hear.

“It’s a caffeinated drink which I enjoy.” Spencer tried to move around her, but Ashley stepped sideways to prevent it.

“On going out with me for coffee,” she specified, giving a little self-deprecating smile.

“You’re a client.”

“Not as of tomorrow.”

Spencer smiled, which Ashley took as a good sign that she was at least entertaining the notion. “You are assuming that you’ll graduate from this class. That’s a pretty big assumption based on your behaviour to date.” She reached out and placed her hand on Ashley’s bicep, pushing her to one side. “And I have to leave.”

Ashley let her past, but followed her out to the corridor. “So, if I graduate and ask you again tomorrow?”

Spencer turned around and walked backwards so she could face Ashley while replying, “I still don’t pick dates from my client pool.”

“But you would date me if I wasn’t from your client pool?”

“What makes you think I date girls?” Spencer was still walking backwards, but had slowed down, another good sign.

Ashley folded her arms over her chest and grinned. “I’m not asking you to date girls, plural. I’m only asking you out to coffee with me. And I’m pretty irresistible.”

“Client.” Spencer shrugged, as if she had no other choice.

“That’s an excuse.”

“It’s the truth. And the truth is its own defence.”

“Are you seeing someone?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It totally is if we’re going to be dating.”

“We’re not going to be dating.”

Ashley walked towards Spencer slowly. “That’s under negotiation.”

“No, it’s not.”

Ashley came to a halt in front of the blonde, who had stopped at the top of the stairwell. “Semantics. You’re totally going to say yes.”

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

She shrugged. “I’m listening, but I know what you really mean.”

“Which is?” Spencer prompted.

“That you find me attractive and you’re using some professional code which doesn’t apply because you’ve already admitted that you’re not a real therapist, and therefore not an actual doctor, to find an excuse not to say yes. But you really want to say yes, so the only good reason I can think of is that you’re already seeing someone.”

Spencer rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’m already seeing someone.”

Ashley laughed scornfully. “No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“Girl or boy?”

“Again, that’s none of your business.”

“Eh, I don’t really care anyway, because it’s an obvious lie. I’m not, either, by the way. Seeing someone, I mean. Although I’m definitely open to the idea for the right hot blonde.”

Spencer groaned in frustration. “We are not having this conversation. I have work to do just now, so I’m leaving.”

“Fine. We’ll pick this up later.”

“No, we won’t.” Spencer started down the stairs.

“We will,” Ashley called after her.

“Ignoring you.”

“Oh, you just wish you could.” Ashley grinned to herself. It was as good as in the bag.

+

The session immediately after lunch was no better than the morning had been. Their topic was trigger points and Spencer talked them through various well-known triggers and the techniques which could be used to avoid such instances.

Ashley kept trying to catch Spencer’s attention, but the blonde was ignoring her. Except when she wasn’t. Ashley caught her looking a few times, and winked to let Spencer know that she’d been caught. Twice, that had landed her an angry glare, but, hey, she wasn’t the one who was busted.

“Ashley?” She looked up to find the class staring at her, expecting a response. “What do you think your own trigger is?”

“Frustration.” She smirked at Spencer.

“What kind of frustration?” There was a warning in Spencer’s eyes.

“The usual kind. When I don’t get my own way.”

“But surely you realise that you can’t always get what you want?”

“But if I try sometimes, I just might find, I get what I need?” Ashley responded, earning herself a low five from Duncan next to her.

“Very amusing, Ashley.” Spencer didn’t look amused. “What I mean is that you can’t just get what you want because you want it. Some things will always be off-limits to you, no matter how much you want them.”

Ashley wasn’t sure they were talking about trigger points. She really hoped they weren’t, although she wasn’t keen on the off-limits message. “Obviously, I know that. I’m not a kid waiting for Santa Claus to bring me everything on my list, no matter how ridiculous. I mean I get frustrated when I don’t get my own way for no good reason.”

Miss Twinset interrupted with an example of her own, another of the hundreds of perceived slights and deviations from propriety which she was forced to endure every day, proving yet again that there was an explosive world of tension hidden beneath her Little Women exterior. Spencer asked the others to provide similar examples, and they found it easy to come up with several.

“Are you sure that this isn’t a perceptual issue, Ashley?”

“Come again?”

“That what you perceive as no good reason is, in fact, entirely reasonable,” Spencer said. “And, actually, your frustration is therefore misplaced?”

Ashley shrugged. “Maybe sometimes. Not always.”

“So, you don’t think it’s important to manage your expectations, rather than to be unreasonable in the first place, which then causes your frustration?”

Ashley rolled her eyes. If she was going to be forced to be specific, then she would.

“Okay, take women. How do I manage my expectations there? Should I only go for women who are so obviously available that they tip over into needy and desperate? Because that seems wrong on several levels.” Dwayne and Graydon murmured their shock, showing themselves to be the only two people in the room not to have realised that Ashley was gay.

“No, but expecting every woman you ask to say yes is unreasonable.”

“I don’t expect every woman to say yes. I only expect an honest answer when I do ask. And, before everyone starts thinking I’m some kind of slut here, I’ve only actually asked one woman out in the last couple of years.” She was quite pleased by Spencer’s momentary pause at that little nugget.

“So you’re saying your frustration is caused by a lack of honesty?”

Nice recovery, Ashley thought. “I think that people hide behind rules and their job and a hundred other things to stop themselves from being really honest and, yeah, that frustrates the hell out of me because that’s not fair.”

“You think the world should be fair?”

Ashley shook her head. “No, I think people should be fair. I think the world would be a much happier place if we were all a little more honest with ourselves and others.”

“Are you sure that people are being dishonest with you, or are you just assuming that they’re being dishonest because they’re not going along with what you want? Who’s to say you’re not the one in the wrong?”

“Because sometimes you just know what you know, and when someone wants to say yes, but is only saying no to frustrate you.”

“Or maybe there’s a time and a place for everything and, once again, you can’t always get what you want when you want it.”

“That’s my whole point about honesty,” Ashley folded her arms, letting her eyes travel over Spencer’s legs. They were nice legs. They would feel great wrapped around her waist, she’d bet. “Then don’t say no. Say ‘now’s not the time’ instead.”

“Well, now is certainly not the time to explore your dating failures,” Spencer smirked. “but let’s go back to my original question. Is this perceptual?” She turned. “Duncan, what do you think?”

When Spencer glanced back at her while Duncan was giving his views, Ashley folded her arms and raised her eyebrow in challenge. If she had read the situation right—and she liked to think that she could—Spencer had just admitted that she was willing to consider going out with her if Ashley asked again at a later, more appropriate time. The slight flush on Spencer’s cheeks and the tiny little nod she gave made Ashley grin in victory.

+

As the class finished, they were given an evening assignment to write down five techniques from the afternoon discussion which they could use to maintain their temper in the future and how they intended to implement them.

Ashley called out, “Hey, Miss Carlin, might I have a word with you about my assignment?”

Spencer gave her a look of sheer disbelief. “Your assignment? You’re sure?”

“Promise.”

The blonde wavered for a moment. “Okay, then, what is it?”

Ashley dropped her voice. “I was thinking we could discuss it in private. It’s a bit personal.”

“As you’re going to be reading out your assignments in class tomorrow, then you shouldn’t be including anything which you don’t want the rest of the class to hear.”

Nicely played, she thought. And now everyone else in the class had ceased their chatter and was watching the two of them. She blushed a little and cleared her throat. “I have a technique which I think will help me, but I don’t want to write it down if it’s going to be wrong.”

“There are no wrong answers, Ashley,” Spencer replied sweetly, holding her folder to her defensively. “It’s about what you think will work for you, and you know yourself better than anyone.”

She decided to put the ball back in Spencer’s court. “And you’re sure it’s okay that I just write my idea down and share it with the whole class? You think that’s gonna be appropriate?” She could almost see Spencer’s mind working through all the potentially embarrassing things which Ashley might come up with.

“Outside!” the blonde ordered.

Ashley followed Spencer out into the hallway, casting a grin backwards in Duncan’s direction. Her grin vanished immediately when Spencer grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her into another nearby classroom, shutting the door behind them with some force. Ashley decided to stay silent because Spencer didn’t look in the mood to hear anything she wanted to say. She lingered by the doorway while Spencer moved to the middle of the room, placing her folder down on one of the desks.

“What were you going to suggest?” Spencer asked.

“What?”

“Your supposed technique, what was it?”

Ashley flushed with embarrassment. “I, uh, was going to suggest that I could be incentivised with, you know, sexual favours.” It sounded really crass now that she had said it out loud.

“Sexual favours?”

“Like, you know, a reward system for being good.”

“You honestly believe that you could find someone who would be willing to have sex with you in order to keep you from losing your temper?”

Ashley knew that she had been overly blessed in the grand scheme of things. She was rich and she was in the entertainment industry. Money and show-business contacts were more than enough in LA to make sure that she never lacked for attractive and willing company. The fact that she was so good-looking didn’t hurt, either. That she had no interest in any sort of relationship beyond a quick fling or, at best, friends-with-benefits—something about which she never lied, never pretended otherwise—even worked as a perverse incentive to some who felt that they could be The One to Change Her. They had no hope, but she did so enjoy watching them try.

But since Spencer Carlin had walked into the classroom that morning, she had been willing to throw over her usual principles. She was willing to chase this woman. She was willing to chase her for weeks and months. And not just for a quick rough-and-tumble or even a short term affair. She wanted to get to know her, take her out and show her off, maybe take her home and take care of her. Those thoughts scared her, but she was more than willing to go for broke on this occasion. Something told her that Spencer would be worth it.

“If I met the right woman, sure. Why not? If she happened to be an anger management counsellor, then I figure keeping my temper in check would be something in which she was invested, so I think she’d agree to my plan.”

“And you were going to say that in front of the whole class?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Look,” Spencer ran her fingers through her hair, “I have a contract with the District Court of Los Angeles and it is very clear about the standards of professionalism it expects. What do you think you’re playing at, pulling all this stuff in front of everyone else? I could lose my job if Dwayne or Gloria or someone else puts in a complaint that I showed favouritism towards you! Would you somehow find that amusing?”

Feeling chastened, Ashley mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not going to help me when I’ve got no job to go to and a reputation for sleeping with my clients.”

“I didn’t think about that.”

“I know that you find yourself awfully cute, but I assure you that the feeling is not mutual.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just treat me with the proper professional respect that the situation deserves, especially in front of the rest of the class.”

“I will.”

“That remains to be seen, but I need you to promise me that you are not going to do anything in class tomorrow that could potentially embarrass me.”

“Honest, I won’t.”

“No more comments, no more little looks, no more discussing with Duncan how hot you think I am?”

Ashley’s head shot up. So, she had heard those comments. “Promise.”

“And you will behave yourself in every possible way?”

“Yes.”

“And you will take the remainder of this class seriously?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes, well, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Ashley kept her head down, hoping to project the right air of contrition, so she didn’t realise that Spencer had moved towards her until she saw the toes of the blonde’s boots appear in her field of vision.

“And you won’t tell anyone?” Spencer’s voice was lower, almost husky, and it sent a shiver up Ashley’s spine.

“I won’t tell anyone what?”

“That I…” Spencer bit her lip and pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “That I think your incentive plan has merit.”

Ashley grinned. “You do?”

“I think you need to start smaller, perhaps with kissing.” Spencer’s eyes drifted to Ashley’s mouth and she ran her tongue over her lips in a way that caused a rush of arousal to pool between Ashley’s legs.

“Kissing?”

“You said you weren’t seeing anyone.”

Ashley shook her head. “I’m not.” She let her own eyes drift to Spencer’s mouth. “Well, I wasn’t.”

“So, if you started seeing someone, it would be awfully presumptuous to think that they would just crawl into bed with you before, say, the third or fourth date.”

“Really? Would it?” Ashley liked this conversation and the fact that they were subtly leaning in towards each other.

“Very presumptuous.”

“Fourth date, huh?”

Spencer’s breathing hitched. “Or third.”

“I thought you didn’t find me cute?” Ashley’s hands were pressed flat against the wall behind her, but she wanted to reach out and pull Spencer to her.

“You’re not. You’re many things, but cute isn’t one of them.”

“What, then?”

“Ask me another time.”

“When? After the third date?”

Spencer laughed. “Before then.” She leaned even further into Ashley’s personal space. “Over coffee.”

“We’re going for coffee?”

“Tomorrow, after class. But only if you graduate.”

“Is this part of the incentive programme?”

Spencer reached her hand out, finding Ashley’s hip. “Maybe.” She raised her other hand to Ashley’s chin, cupping it and letting her thumb brush across her lower lip. “Although I thought we’d agreed on something else.”

“Yeah?” Ashley grinned, knowing what was coming next.

Spencer removed her thumb, moving forward until their lips were almost touching. “Yeah.”

Whatever Ashley had been expecting from their light teasing, it wasn’t what she got. Spencer pushed her body right into Ashley’s, trapping her against the wall. She took Ashley’s bottom lip between her teeth and flicked her tongue over it before crushing their lips together.

Spencer kissed like kissing was an Olympic sport and she was going for the gold medal in both technique and degree of difficulty. She nibbled, pecked, licked and sucked, while her upper body pressed Ashley into the wall as her hands pulled their hips together. She pushed her thigh between Ashley’s and held her firmly as her mouth slowed down, her lips and tongue becoming tender, more deliberate. The lighter pressure of her mouth, coupled with the harder pressure her thigh was exerting, drew a series of gasps and moans from Ashley. And just when Ashley thought that she was getting the measure of her and could start showing off a few skills of her own, Spencer changed the tempo and aggressively pushed Ashley to the brink.

When she pulled back and rested her forehead against Ashley’s, they were both struggling to catch their breath, and Ashley felt as though Spencer was the only thing keeping her upright.

“That’s some incentive.” Her voice was hoarse and low, and Spencer chuckled.

“Then you should try to imagine what the reward might be for behaving properly tomorrow.” Spencer pressed a brief peck against Ashley’s lips and stepped back.

Ashley watched as the blonde collected her things and smoothed down her clothes. She had the distinct feeling that she hadn’t just met her match, but had been outclassed before she even stepped on the field of play.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Spencer asked, her eyes travelling up and down Ashley’s still-weakened body like she already owned it.

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’ll be good?” The amount of meaning she managed to cram into that one word just using tone and a lustful glare was indecent.

She was still Ashley Davies, though, and she wasn’t going to lose her shit completely without a fight. “As good as you need me to be, and as bad as you want.”

“Third date, no sooner.” Spencer had one hand on the door. She raised the other and drew a finger down Ashley’s cheek, before running it across her lips. “Perhaps there might be something you can do for extra credit, though, so to speak.” She withdrew her hand. “Think on it and get back to me tomorrow. After class.”

Spencer walked away, leaving Ashley slumped against the wall, her legs barely keeping her upright.

Think on it? She was pretty sure that she wouldn’t be able to think of anything else but Spencer Carlin for quite some time.