Bad Teacher (Bad Girls Club Book 3)

by Carmen Falcone

  Sitting, she crossed her legs. “How was your trip?”

  “Good, it’s always good to see family,” he said. “I was going to call you. I saw Marcelle Brodeur is still in our current student list.”

  “Yes. Well, about that…” She shifted on her seat, ready to spiel what she rehearsed innumerous times in front of the mirror. “I had a meeting with the student’s father, Mr. Theo Brodeur, and after considering his circumstances, I decided to give his daughter one more chance.”

  He drummed his fingers on the wood desk, studying her without a word.

  Tension crackled in the air, and cold sweat slicked her forehead. Maybe she’d made a mistake, but now it was way too late to go back and undo it. Her stomach knotted, the possibility of being fired lurking in the background. If she got fired, then he’d for sure kick Marcelle out of the school, and Theo would be pissed at her. She’d lose her job and the hook-up they agreed to on the prior evening. She’d also miss out on the chance of helping Marcelle. No, she had to stand her ground.

  “You did that without checking with me?” He tilted his head, thinning his lips. “That’s the exact opposite of what I’d asked you to do.”

  “I understand, but after talking to her father, I concluded she lost her mother and is still grieving.”

  “That doesn’t give her the right to disrupt classes,” he said. “Besides, she’s failing.”

  “There haven’t been any disruptions this week. I’ve taken her under my wing and am tutoring her to help her.”

  He furrowed his brows. “Why would you go through all this trouble? She wasn’t even your student.”

  Violet raised her hand to play with her necklace pendant, but stopped in her tracks and squared her shoulders. Show strength. “I felt really bad for her. I believe she needs some one-on-one attention, and I have the free time.”

  “You should have checked with me. Now I will have to talk to her teachers and explain she’ll be staying and why.”

  “I see. She’s been learning, and she has potential. I guarantee you I have the best intentions,” she said, keeping her original motivations close to her vest. If he found out she had fender bent Theo’s car and agreed to tutor Marcelle because of a blackmail situation and also in exchange of cold hard cash, Clark would can her ass. “Besides, it’ll be a good look for our school to have compassion and give this child one last change.”

  “Okay. I’ll give her this current quarter to see how she behaves and if she can improve her grades. But I’ll have magnifying lenses on her, Violet. If Marcelle screws up, she’s out. And if you don’t follow my orders again, so are you. Are we clear?”

  Theo clenched the bottle of wine in his hand. He’d debated on bringing flowers, but that seemed too cheesy and unnecessary given the occasion. It’d taken them three days to get together—he’d secured a sitter for Marcelle, and Violet had taken her kids to her ex-husband.

  Sighing, he stared at the door of her house one more time before knocking. Anticipation thrummed in his veins, keeping him on edge. When she finally opened the door, his heart skipped a beat. In fact, his entire body came to a halt, for one second, to resume working with much more fervor.

  “Hi,” she said, opening the door wider. Wearing a casual white dress, she couldn’t have looked lovelier if she’d tried. With minimum makeup, her hair framing her face in sultry waves and a special sparkle in her eyes, Violet didn’t need to try to improve her appearance. She’d already won that game.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Brought you something.”

  She glanced at the two-hundred dollar bottle of wine he’d grabbed from his cellar. A small smile formed on her lips. “Are you trying to impress me?”

  He popped his knuckles. Merde. He should have known she’d recognized a good bottle of wine. She’d been married to a surgeon, and something about her mannerisms hinted she came from old money. “Am I so obvious?”

  She chuckled. “You’ve actually come a long way from the wild beast who almost attacked me in the principal’s office ten days ago.”

  An odd wave of warmth stung his cheeks. Holy fuck. Did he just blush? “I like to keep people on their toes.”

  “An easy task. Please have a seat,” she said, gesturing at the sofa.

  The lights had been dimmed, and a red scarf covered the floor lamp giving it a soft pink glow. A couple of lit candles sat on the coffee table, spreading the scent of jasmine through the living area. Hmmm… so she’d been trying to impress him too. Pure male pride crackled through his blood. He sat on the couch, remembering the delicious memories from the last time he’d been here.

  “Who’s watching Marcelle?” she asked, bringing him back to present.

  “Miss Anthony, a sitter we’ve used for the last three years. The only constant in her life except for me.” Miss Anthony was a retired woman who had a great way with kids and availability to watch Marcelle whenever he worked.

  She ran her fingers along the wine bottle. “That’s great. I better go open this,” she disappeared into the kitchen.

  He surged to his feet and followed her, adamant on helping her with whatever she needed. Also, he didn’t want to pass up a chance to learn more about her. “You must not have that type of issue, sharing custody,” he said casually.

  She rummaged one of the drawers, searching for the wine opener.

  “No. We get along well. Wanna hear something funny? Damian, my ex, is marrying one of my best friends.”

  “Let me,” he said, taking the wine opener from her hand and grabbing the bottle of wine from the counter.

  He’d definitely need some alcohol—the mention of her ex brought a wave of heat to his bloodstream. Of course he shouldn’t be jealous of the man—he was in the past. But he’d had her before. The bastard had offered Violet what Theo himself could never. He opened the bottle and poured wine in both glasses, pretending to focus on the task. Inside, agitation settled, like a giant bee stung his entire body. “How did that happen?”

  “It wasn’t while we were together. She helped him out after we separated, and they fell in love,” she said then offered a neutral smile which gave away nothing.

  Without any finesse, he took this wine glass to his lips and drank the rich red liquid. His sommelier would be terrified at his lack of respect for the special wine. “And you were okay with it?”

  She shrugged, looking away. “I said I was okay with it first. Honestly, it’s hard to admit, but they were made for each other.”

  He handed her a glass. “You’re very generous.”

  “Trust me, I’m no hero in this story.” She took a sip, drumming her fingers on the glass. “This is excellent. I’m glad you came over after dinner, it would have been intimidating to me to cook to a chef.”

  He gazed at her, knowing fully well she deflected from the subject he brought up. What did she mean by saying she was no hero? His gut clenched, something didn’t sit right. She obviously wanted to keep things light—after all, their liaison was temporary and worry-free. He brushed the nagging feeling aside, willing himself to forget about it and relax. His shoulders dropped a notch. “I’m a nightmare as a boss.”

  She chuckled, and the infectious sound reverberated through him, awakening all his nerve endings. “I wouldn’t expect it any other way. Do you have a high turnover at your restaurants?”

  He erased the distance between them. “No, surprisingly.” Despite his demanding personality, he made up by praising his employees when due, and helping them get to the next level in their career. His employees trusted him, respected him, and kept a professional only relationship—well, besides Alan anyway.

  “Interesting. If I worked for you, I’d fear you slitting my throat if I messed things up.”

  He sat his glass on the counter and cornered her against the kitchen island. Her feminine scent swirled into his nostrils. “I have other plans for your throat.” He ran his finger down her neck and felt her shudder, the goose bumps on her flesh.

  He captured her lips in a
passionate kiss, one that wanted to erase all the memory of her ex. Her tongue tasted like the mix of the delicious wine she just drank and heaven. He pulled her to him, and she complied without resistance, encircling her hands around his head. She plastered herself against him, and her sinewy, sexy body had the power to make his roar.

  His blood rushed to his cock so fast he felt lightheaded. His pants shrank a size or two, and he intensified the kiss, teasing her tongue with powerful strokes, then weaning off the rhythm of the kiss only to devour again. She squirmed against him, trembling, so soft and warm and willing.

  She wretched her mouth from his, gasping for air, but kept her forehead resting on his. The nearness of her spiked his pulse, and he massaged her back with vigorous strokes, needing to feel her melt into his arms. Needing desperately to know he wasn’t the only one losing control. She squirmed into him, and every part of her teased him, increasing his internal temperature even more. God, this woman was so fucking sexy.

  “Theo…” she moaned, eyes closed.

  “Yeah?” He slid his hands down her dress, caressing her ass over the fabric. Her nice, firm ass, with enough flesh to drive a man crazy.

  “Don’t ever stop kissing me,” she said.

  Groaning, he hiked up her dress until he felt her ass against his palm. Her skin was soft and warm, muscly yet gentle. He cupped her butt, and she let the tip of her tongue out, teasing him, licking his lips until he no longer resisted and took her lips in his with relentless pursuit. He played with her G-string, running his finger along the small piece of fabric.

  Every part of him throbbed for her, his core burning with need. She lowered her hand to his pants, her fingers cupping his cock. Her touch unlocked a fire that consumed him completely. He’d never felt so…

  She slipped her hand under his pants, and when she palmed his cock over his underwear, he swept her off her feet, and she quickly wrapped her legs around his back. If they continued at this rate, he’d fuck her in the kitchen. As much as the idea seduced him, he’d much more prefer to claim her in her bed.

  He growled. “Where is your room?”

  6

  The moment he put Violet on her bed, she moaned. Having him carry her from the kitchen to her bedroom had been a tortuous affair, with both of them teasing each other, kissing to exhaustion.

  He peeled off his clothes, pulling his shirt over his head then removed his pants, boxers and shoes, kicking them to the side. When he’d fucked her the other night, she hadn’t been able to gape over his body, but now… muscles rippled and bunched as he walked, and her gaze followed the sinful V-shaped area leading to his cock. His huge, hard, powerful cock.

  She licked her lips in anticipation. He joined her on the bed, and a low current went up her spine. Being with him made her forget about anything else but the two of them—and pleasure.

  She arched toward him, and he helped her pull her dress over her head. The intimate smile he flashed her when he saw her in her bra and G-string she’d take to her grave. Aroused, she reached to the back of her bra and unclasped it, letting it fall down her arms until it reached the bedspread.

  “Trop belle.” His accent became more enunciated and even sexier.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. She’d expected to feel exposed, bare, but a measure of freedom filled her from top to bottom, and her clit throbbed in anticipation. Hell, who was she kidding? All of her tingled, seared, demanded. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She touched his neck, then perused down his chest and made invisible circles around his taut nipples.

  He shuddered under her touch, and a strand of female power coursed through her. When he lowered his lips to hers, an electrifying current passed between them, raising the little hairs at the back of her neck.

  He claimed her with the ruthless kiss, and she matched his urgency, her tongue challenging his. She drew herself closer to him, desperate for the skin on skin contact—fully naked. A second later, she trembled… wasn’t it wonderful? They completed each other like match and fire.

  He grazed his teeth on her lower lip, bruising her tender flesh, then released her lips with a pop. Growling, he lowered himself over her body, exploring her like he hadn’t had the time to the other day. The moment he closed his mouth around her breasts, she moaned, her sound filling the air. She found it impossible to stay still, and moved on the bed, every little motion helping get more of her onto him, on her eager goal of giving him all she had to give.

  He moved to her other breast, lapping his tongue at her hard nipple. A heat she’d never experienced before formed behind her chest and stirred it, sending thrills of excitement down her body. He must have understood the cue, because he slid one hand between her legs, nudging her thighs apart. “Fuck,” he murmured when he slipped three fingers into her drenching wet pussy.

  Another whimper escaped her mouth. He teased her, nibbling her breast, then sliding his fingers in and out of her, scissoring her slick folds. She thought she’d explode when he disengaged from her breast and buried his head in between her legs.

  First, he licked the outside of her sex, the tip of his tongue giving her little shocks of pleasure. Then, he went for the kill and licked her folds, sucking the pearly cream between them. She grabbed a handful of the bedspread and clutched it hard, thrusting her head from side to side.

  He continued sliding in, then withdrawing his fingers, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. She arched herself to him, undulating her hips, in a crazy overdrive of hormones she herself couldn’t explain.

  “God, yes. Theo… you’re driving me—”

  He sucked her clit, taking the bud in his mouth, and it was like removing the pin of a grenade. She called out his name, as wave after wave of pleasure rushed through her, claiming every bone of her body, every breath of her lungs.

  As for him, he didn’t let up and kept on licking her, playing with her until she stopped quivering and her breathing returned to normal. He worked his way back up, kissing her stomach, the valley between her breasts then her neck.

  So good. She slid her hand down his wide back, then clasped his muscly ass. In retaliation, he rubbed the thick head of his cock at her entrance, which reignited her libido automatically. “Theo, please—”

  “What?” He nibbled on her earlobe, and a wave of heat flooded her. Suddenly, her insides were in turmoil again, her desire at war with common sense. She could no longer wait. No longer.

  “Fuck me,” she said, and those two words unlocked a new milestone for her. She’d never been a dirty talker or used this kind of language in the bedroom. Now, nothing else made more sense than this. “Fuck me,” she repeated, this time, with a more demanding voice.

  Groaning, he thrust inside her, filling her with airtight fit. She sucked in a breath, willing her inner walls to adjust to his size, his girth, his hardness. God, this felt wonderful. The scent of sweat and sex swirling around them, the blanket of warm intimacy as he began to slide out of her then return, making her feel achy and complete.

  “So fucking good,” he whispered, then intensified the rhythm.

  She wrapped her legs around his torso, the air nearly socked out of her lungs. Whimpering, she scratched his shoulder blades, urging him to keep going. He moved on top of her with the tantalizing rhythm of an ancient dance—his hips rocking into hers then retreating, his large body claiming hers in the most primitive way a man could a woman.

  She contracted her inner walls and earned herself a couple of growly moans from him. Then, he flipped her over, switching positions, and she straddled him. Disoriented but turned on, she adjusted her hips, switching the angle a notch to get even more pleasure from him.

  Then, she rode him, back and forth, undulating her hips. His gaze was laser focused on hers, and it only added to the hot pressure building inside. Lust, danger and challenge flickered in his eyes, each speck of gold adding a different emotion to the depth of his stare.

  She wondered what message her eyes sent to him—did they betray her? Did they show how mu
ch being here with him, so close, so naked and sweaty, made her heart sing more ways than one?

  Madness. It’s just sex, she told herself, and to prove it, rocked harder, working him so deep inside her, it hurt. He played with her breasts, touching them, cupping them, and eventually squeezing her nipples. She threw her head back, and when she leaned forward to face him again, he surprised her one more time—he came to a sitting position, bringing her with him.

  She wrapped her legs around him, eyes searching for his. He fucked her, in the same crazy passionate way she could no longer handle. Her body contracted for one second that seemed to last a minute, then soared to a shuddering, long-lasting ecstasy. His name slipped through her lips, and she closed her eyes, coming to terms with a height of pleasure she’d never experienced before.

  He followed her soon after, with one more thrust, then he spilled himself inside her, and took her with him as they plopped on the mattress.

  She lay with him, legs entangled. The post-sex bliss felt like the end of a much needed one-hour massage—like a delicious rebirth. He stroked her back, slowly, his fingers feathering over her skin. She enjoyed the closeness, and sighed. “What was in that wine?” she finally asked.

  He chuckled in her hair. “I’ve had it quite often and never had this type of outcome.”

  “That’s hard to believe. Looking the way you do.” Just because he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship, didn’t mean the man was a monk. What if he slept around? Wasn’t any of her business, but a pang of jealousy still stung her.

  “You’re the first person I’ve slept with after losing Celine.”

  She sat upright on the bed. Hadn’t his wife died a couple of years prior? A sense of female pride ran through her. A second later, she regretted it. Why did she feel excited to know she’d been the one who took him out of a female drought? His losing his wife had probably hurt him. She shuddered. “It’s been a while for me too.”