He wrapped his fingers around hers. The touch was firm but gentle, and it sent a jolt up her arm. Visions from the previous night flooded into her mind. She could almost feel his hands moving across her skin, and she shivered at the memory. Her breathing deepened as she got lost in the images in her mind.
"Rebecca? Are you okay?" He was looking at her, his eyebrows slightly raised in concern.
She shook herself back to the present, and blushed hard at the sudden realization that her memories had been nothing but a very vivid, very sexy dream. She shook it off as quickly as she could. "Sorry Dr. Clements, I just zoned there for a second. I guess I'm a little tired."
"It's okay; I know you've got a lot going on right now." He smiled at her.
Rebecca looked down at her hand on the piano keyboard where he still held her fingers. He gently pushed them into the proper position then let his hand drop. "Try the first few measures again."
She struggled to focus her mind back on the lesson. What was she thinking?! She'd been taking piano lessons practically her whole life, and never had a touch like that brought on such feelings. It was simply part of the lesson. When you play an instrument, it's only natural that your teacher will touch your hands.
She managed to hold off the images from her dream for the remainder of the lesson, though she was obviously having a little trouble focusing on her playing. When the hour was up she was relieved but also a little disappointed. When she got to the door to his studio, she turned to say goodbye. She stood there just a little too long, for the first time looking at him as something other than a professor.
Though he was probably old enough to be her father, she noticed that he was still in quite good shape. There was only a touch of gray in his dark hair, and his green eyes sparkled with energy and a hint of mischievousness. Her gaze stopped on his hands, the part of his body she had looked at the most. How had she never noticed before just how sexy they were?
"Bye, Rebecca. See you next week." She blushed again as she realized she'd been staring.
"Bye!"
*****
Rebecca walked back to her dorm room in a daze. She'd managed to force the dream out of her head for most of the lesson, but now that she no longer had to focus on something it came flooding back in shocking detail. She let herself into her room and sank into her bed, allowing herself to relive the dream.
She closed her eyes, remembering the sensation of his smooth fingers gently caressing her arms. He stood in front of her, slowly trailing those talented fingers over her skin, from her shoulder down to her hands. When he reached her fingertips, he lifted her hands and lightly brushed her fingers over his lips. When his slightly parted lips closed over the tips of her fingers, she felt her knees weaken, and he took the opportunity to push her gently back onto the bed.
The impact of their bodies on the bed awakened their pent-up lust, and they dove into each other's lips with their own. His wonderful fingers sent chills through her body when they found her breasts. He had unbuttoned her shirt and was teasing her hard nipples through her sheer bra when the sound of the door being unlocked rudely jolted Rebecca back to reality.
Rebecca looked down at herself and saw that she was lying on her bed, her shirt unbuttoned and her hand in her bra. She scrambled to straighten herself just as her roommate Ann walked through the door.
"Hey, what's up? How was your lesson this week?" Ann asked brightly as she entered and headed over to her desk to dump her huge load of books.
"Oh, fine, nothing special," Rebecca mumbled. When Ann looked at her quizzically she realized that she must not quite sound herself. "Sorry, I took a little nap and I'm still sorta asleep." Under her breath, she added "…and I had this weird dream…"
Ann continued to flit around the room in her usual cheerful way and kept up a chatter in which Rebecca did her best to participate. Inside, though, Rebecca was trying to sort out her feelings.
She thought about Dr. Clements, about how he'd been one of the reasons she had decided to attend this particular school. Not only was he a fabulous teacher, but he was also an amazing pianist; she could listen to him play endlessly. Since she'd been at this school, she'd never regretted the decision to come.
"Why did I even have to remember that dream, anyway?" she thought to herself. She hoped that she wouldn't be uncomfortable around Dr. Clements now; he was a great teacher and she had always enjoyed his lessons. She did not look forward to the idea of two and a half more years of lessons in which she couldn't relax. It certainly wasn't the right environment in which to really learn anything.
*****
Jeffery Clements watched Rebecca leaving his studio after their weekly piano lesson. He had liked her since the day they first met, almost two years ago, when she was a prospective student visiting the college. She had a lot of musical talent, which was reason enough for him to like her, but she also had a wonderful personality. She could be moody at times, an element he believed to be a part of most true artists, but she was also quite confident and full of energy. He had always enjoyed her lessons. She reminded him of the friends that he had had when he was an undergraduate.
There was something about the way she had looked at him today that was different, however, from the Rebecca he knew. He had felt like he was being sized up. That surprised him a little; he was used to students feeling a little intimidated by their professors, especially the younger students. Rebecca wasn't a typical student, though.
He thought a little about what he knew of Rebecca. She was always extremely busy; in fact, he thought that she sometimes tried to do too much. Of course, he'd prefer that she drop everything but piano so she could devote all of her time to practicing. She was an above average piano player, but she had the potential to be fabulous. He knew, though, that she wouldn't give up her other activities. Though her technique could use more practice, her playing had deep musical feeling, a gift he greatly appreciated, as that was the aspect that made his own playing so excellent.
Though he usually didn't allow himself to think about such things, he found himself considering Rebecca's appearance. Still 19, she had managed to keep off the proverbial freshman 15, and her membership on the school swim team had given her the strong, lithe body of a swimmer. Unlike most swimmers, however, she wore her straight chestnut hair long, almost to her ass.
Dr. Clements shook himself when he realized he was thinking about running his fingers through that long brown hair. He knew that he couldn't allow himself to start thinking about any of his students that way.
*****
Rebecca slowly entered the music building. It had been a week since her last piano lesson, and she had managed to put the dream out of her mind most of the week. Now that she was about to have her lesson, however, she was a little nervous.
"Okay, Rebecca," she told herself, "if you think about it and act funny then it will be awkward. Just let it go…"
With a deep breath, she turned down the hall to Dr. Clements' studio.
"Hello, Rebecca, come on in." Dr. Clements looked up from his desk. She sat at the piano and watched as he stood and walked over to her. "Have a good week?"
She smiled and told him about her week, inwardly telling herself that it wasn't so bad. She should just forget the dream ever happened.
The lesson settle into a comfortable routine, with Dr. Clements happy at the progress she had made on her Rachmaninoff. When they got to the Chopin, however, she began to get frustrated.
"I just can't get this one measure," she sighed as she misplayed it for the third time. "My fingers aren't cooperating."
"You're holding your wrist tight." He took her wrist in his hand and adjusted its position. "Play it again."
When he touched her hand they both felt her entire body tense. She had done so well the whole lesson until now, but she couldn't help the reaction.
He looked up at her. "Your whole arm is tense. Relax." She smiled wanly at him, knowing it wasn't just her arm. She willed herself to relax, and attempted the measure again. "Better…again."
As she continued to play the offending measure over and over, she was very aware of his firm grip on her wrist, his arm lightly resting against hers. Her fingers were on auto-pilot; she was only subconsciously aware of the music she was producing. She realized that not only was she playing the notes correctly but she was also making them sound quite musical.