Misconduct

by Penelope Douglas

  I was sure he was loving this, but I didn’t give a damn anymore.

  I took Easton’s hand with my left and tilted her chin up with my right.

  “Tyler, don’t,” she begged, looking around at whoever might be watching us.

  Tessa’s voice came up behind me. “Listen to her, Tyler.”

  I held Easton’s eyes, seeing the tears pool there.

  “You love me,” I whispered softly enough for only her to hear.

  “What’s going on?” my father interrupted, stopping his dance next to us as he and his wife looked between Easton and me with concern.

  Easton searched my eyes, still worried.

  “I don’t care,” I told her. “I don’t want to make trouble for you, but I don’t care about the campaign if I can’t have you. I don’t fucking care.”

  Her desperate eyes pooled with more tears, and I cupped her face in both hands, caressing her cheeks.

  “Aren’t you the teacher that was featured in Newsweek?” my stepmother asked, inching forward in our tight circle as dancers moved around us. “You teach at Braddock Autenberry, right?”

  “Braddock Autenberry?” Blackwell repeated, squinting at me. “Doesn’t your son attend school there?”

  And now it was done.

  He knew, everyone would know, and Easton and I would have to weather this storm, but fuck it.

  “Well, well, well,” he mused. “My night just got better.”

  Easton started shaking her head, but I held her with my steady gaze, looking into her eyes.

  “I don’t care,” I maintained. “I need you.”

  Mason Blackwell could ride this scandal to kingdom come. It would be a small price to pay to have her.

  She clasped my forearms, and I grabbed her hand, ready to get her out of here.

  “I almost feel sorry for you, Marek,” Blackwell gloated when I turned around. “We all have our dirty little secrets, but most of us have the sense —”

  “Yes!” my stepmother gasped, cutting Blackwell off. “You’re the teacher who was a tennis player, right?” She gestured to Easton as my father listened with a stern set to his features.

  “I was so sorry to read that part about your parents and sister. Oh, my goodness.” She placed a hand on her heart, giving Easton a sympathetic look.

  “Thank you,” Easton choked out.

  “What a horrible tragedy,” Rachel consoled. “I can’t imagine being eighteen years old and losing nearly your entire family.”

  Blackwell’s eyebrows nose-dived as he listened.

  Rachel continued. “And then you and your brother divided your parents’ estate between several children’s charities here in New Orleans?” she went on. “So generous when you had already lost so much.”

  I faltered, having not known that part.

  “My brother must’ve told them that,” Easton admitted, looking embarrassed.

  I raised my eyes, locking on Blackwell’s, and I saw it in his eyes. He could try to sling mud, but Easton’s record and character spoke for themselves.

  “You truly have given a lot to this city,” Rachel stated, smiling. “I can’t wait to see where your career goes, Ms. Bradbury.”

  Easton nodded, giving her a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “Excuse us for a moment.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her away from everyone, rushing out.

  Jay was somewhere. Her brother was somewhere. But we were leaving. I dug out my phone and quickly texted Patrick to bring the car around.

  “Tyler,” Easton urged as I jogged down to the stairs, holding her hand. “Tyler, what are you doing?”

  I pulled her along, hearing her heels clack-clack-clack as she kept up.

  Reaching the bottom, I pulled her around the banister and led her out of the hotel and onto the sidewalk.

  The Quarter was filled with people, and photographers from a local news station waited outside, covering the ball.

  I scanned the area, but I didn’t see Patrick, so I continued to lead her down the street. She pulled her hand out of my grasp, stopping me.

  “Tyler!” she burst out. “We can’t —”

  But I interrupted her, taking her face in my hand. “I love you, okay?” I rushed out. “I love you like crazy, and I’ve never said that to a woman before, but I’m completely in love with you, Easton Bradbury.”

  I breathed hard, moving my hands to her waist.

  Bowing my forehead down to hers, I tried to keep my voice low. “You’re going to get me into trouble with that mouth of yours, and I may not get everything I thought I wanted out of life, but if I don’t have you and my son, then the rest of it means nothing,” I told her. “You make me happy, my kid likes you, and I feel like I could do anything if I knew I was going to see you every day. I need you.”

  I layered my lips to hers, breathing in her breath and feeling her shake. I didn’t know if it was from me or the chill in the air, but I pulled her in close and wrapped my arm around her waist.

  The heat from her mouth and the way her lips quivered drove me wild.

  She ran her hands up my chest and circled them around my neck. “People are watching,” she whispered.

  “Are you scared?” I grinned.

  She laughed quietly, and her sweet smile made my blood rush.

  “No,” she answered, and I knew she was lying. “You?”

  I shook my head, playing with her. “Not a chance.”

  We were both scared shitless, but that was the best part. If there was no gamble, there was no reward.

  I heard a camera click, and then I heard a car horn sound. I reluctantly twisted my head, seeing the SUV in the middle of the one-way road.

  Taking Easton’s hand, I pulled her into the street and through the car door that Patrick held open.

  I let her climb in first, and then I hopped in, Patrick slamming it behind us.

  “They took our picture,” she warned.

  “Good. I’ll frame it,” I shot back, closing the glass between us and Patrick as he climbed into the driver’s seat and drove.

  “Tyler, those pictures will be online soon,” she worried.

  But I dropped to my knees in front of her. “I don’t care,” I whispered.

  Reaching behind her neck, I unclasped her dress and pulled the top down, gazing at her gorgeous body and beautiful breasts. Grazing my fingertips down her flat stomach, I pulled the dress down farther, meeting her eyes, so she could see mine.

  “I need you,” I growled low. “Right now.”

  And I yanked the fabric until she got the hint and raised her ass off the seat, so I could get the dress off.

  “Jesus Christ,” I groaned. “You weren’t wearing panties?”

  I looked at her hard in the eyes, like she’d betrayed me or something. Why was she not wearing underwear?

  Her dark eyes behind the mask flashed with excitement, and she plastered her naked body against me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  “I like the feel of clothes against my skin,” she taunted, leaving soft kisses around my mouth. “Like your clothes.”

  And then she started rolling her hips against me in small circles, and I groaned.

  “Fuck,” I breathed out.

  She slid her hand down my hardening cock, rubbing it slowly and teasingly through my pants. As I bit my lip, she grew more needy and demanding, taking my hand and slipping it between her legs.

  “Tyler.” She quivered when I slipped a finger inside of her.

  “Yes,” I answered, slipping in another finger.

  She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “Those photos?” she pressed. “Call your brother.”

  I grinned and took out my phone, dialing Jay.

  Easton pushed me back into the seat and knelt down, unfastening my pants and belt.

  “What have you done?” Jay answered without saying hello.

  Easton took my cock out, her eyes looking up at me through the mask as she slid it between her lips, taking all of it down.

>   “All right.” I breathed hard. “Get out in front of this,” I told Jay. “Easton Bradbury taught Christian, but he’s now in an advanced class with a different teacher. I am simply dating a teacher from the same school my son attends.”

  She sucked hard, and I felt the muscles in my legs tense as my dick grew even harder.

  “Fuck,” I gasped.

  “What?” Jay blurted out. “What are you —?”

  But I zoned out as she took my dick out of her mouth and kissed and sucked down the sides, fucking worshipping me.

  “I’ll speak to her superior tomorrow,” I told Jay. “Just build her up. Use the Newsweek article and her website. No interruptions until after nine tomorrow,” I demanded, looking down and seeing the grin on her face as she licked the underside on one lone, taunting stroke with the tip of her tongue.

  “Eh,” I inched out. “Make that noon.”

  And I hung up.

  Darting forward, I lifted her under the arms and put her on the seat across from me. Kneeling in front of her again, I pulled her hair gently, forcing her to arch her back so I could play with her tits. Taking one in my mouth, I tugged at her nipple, drawing it between my teeth and kissing the skin around it before moving on to the other one.

  “I love you, too, Tyler,” she breathed out. “Don’t be careful with me, okay?”

  Bringing her back up, I threw off my jacket and ripped my shirt open, her hands going straight to my chest.

  “I trust you,” she told me.

  I kissed her hard, kneading her ass. “You didn’t tell me about the stalking,” I charged.

  “I know.” She nodded.

  “You’ll tell me everything, you understand?” My hands were all over her, touching her like I would never touch her again. “No one else educates me about you, Easton.”

  She wrapped her arms around my neck, whispering against my neck, “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  But as I tried to gently push her down, because I needed to kiss every inch of her, she stopped me and raised her eyes.

  So I narrowed mine on her. “What is it?”

  She looked away, growing tense, and then so did I.

  “There have been a couple of break-ins at my apartment,” she explained, looking solemn. “I don’t know who it is, and they don’t appear to be taking anything, but —”

  “What the hell do you mean someone has been breaking into your house?” I burst out, my skin growing hot.

  “I reported it to the police,” she assured me quickly. “And I added more locks. So far it’s been minor stuff,” she rushed out. “They’ve left my cabinets open, and they destroyed a display box my parents gave me when I was thirteen.”

  “And you have no idea who it is?” I rasped, fear making my breathing turn shallow.

  She shook her head. “No,” she nearly whispered, “and I don’t want you to worry about it.”

  “Not worry about it!” I barked. “You’re under constant guard now, you hear?”

  But much to my surprise, she laughed.

  “It’s probably just kids, Tyler, and I’m not fighting with you about this right now,” she maintained. “I just wanted to be honest. We’ll handle it, but I won’t be the prisoner my parents tried to make me.”

  I squeezed her hips, studying her hard. I didn’t like this at all.

  I dipped my head to hers, whispering close, “I need to have you safe,” I confessed.

  The idea of someone in her home – in her things – enraged me.

  And what were the chances? After her coach did very much the same thing, it was happening again?

  “I love you,” I nearly begged.

  A soft smile spread across her lips. “You love me? So what does that make us?” she taunted, suddenly changing the mood.

  I laughed under my breath, shaking my head. Always playing games.

  “I’m too old for girlfriends, Easton,” I explained, nibbling her lips, satisfied that she was here with me now, at least, safe.

  She moaned, and the taste of her skin started to make me hungrier.

  I gently pushed her back and leaned down, sinking my mouth into her pussy.

  “Oh, God,” she panted as I licked and sucked her clit. “Tyler,” she moaned.

  “I want to talk about the break-ins more later,” I warned her. “I want to know about your parents, your career, everything…” I demanded, stroking my cock as I kissed her heat.

  “Tyler, please.” She squirmed. “No more talking. Later, okay?”

  “Always so hungry,” I teased. “I love it.”

  “Then prove it,” she fumed, arching her head up to look at me. “Or can’t you keep up?”

  I ground my teeth together, and my fingers tightened on her hip.

  Little…

  God, I fucking loved her.

  Not thinking twice, I shot up and flipped her over onto her stomach with her knees on the floor. Yanking her thighs apart, I pulled her back to me and slid into her.

  “Tyler!” she cried out, and I took a fistful of her hair, tugging slightly.

  “You didn’t want it slow, did you?” I pawed her breast possessively.

  She shook her head. “Uh-uh,” she whimpered.

  I thrust into her harder and faster, groaning when she began backing up into it. Her pussy was so tight, squeezing my dick like a hand. I couldn’t believe I thought I could do without her.

  “Sir.” Patrick came over the intercom, and I slowed. “Where am I taking you?”

  I leaned down, turning Easton’s head so her lips met mine. “You don’t belong anywhere I’m not,” I whispered.

  She kissed me slowly, nodding.

  I leaned back up, rocking into her and feeling her pussy clench and spasm.

  “Home, Patrick,” I choked out. “Take us home.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  EASTON

  N

  othing good ever comes easy.

  The picture of Tyler and me together was all over the Internet – the news of our relationship had become public knowledge now, and there was no turning back. Saturday night he’d claimed me, throwing his ambitions to the wind and risking what he wanted for himself to have me instead.

  I had never felt so loved by someone.

  Even my parents had never put me first, above everything else. My career was more important to them, not my sanity or safety.

  Tyler and I had spent that night at his house, and when he woke up the next morning, I was the first thing he needed. He didn’t check his phone, his e-mails, or explore the damage we might have done to our careers. We screwed and laughed and ate, and then we talked to Christian when he came home from his friend’s house.

  All in all, we were very lucky. The spin Jay had put on the story minimized the damage, and Tyler had called Christian’s mother yesterday to talk about the situation. Not that she needed to know the details, but we wanted her to find out from us before she did another way.

  She was livid. She already didn’t trust Tyler, and she didn’t know me well, so she took it exactly how I expected. As a betrayal.

  Until she talked to Christian. I don’t know what he said, but I had a definite feeling I was still unaware of the magnitude of Christian’s abilities.

  He seemed to calm her down enough for her to not rush home. Although he did have to sweeten her up by agreeing to spend Christmas with her and his stepfather.

  There would be some growing pains as we adjusted to the ramifications and the public attention to our relationship, but I already felt like I was so much luckier than I should’ve been.

  On Monday morning I stepped into the school office dressed in khaki skinny pants and a long-sleeved blouse with a romantic-looking tie collar. My interview about my teaching methods was this afternoon, so I’d chosen to dress conservatively but fashionably.

  “Does he have a moment for me?” I asked Mrs. Vincent as I stepped up to her desk.

  She popped her head up, and a look crossed her face when she realized
it was me. I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad, but it was clear she knew what was going on.

  “I think so.” She nodded. “Go on in.”

  I approached the principal’s office door, knocking even though it was half open.

  “Mr. Shaw?” I broached.

  He glanced over his shoulder, standing with his hands in his file cabinet, and offered a tight smile.

  “Easton, hello.” He sighed. “Come in. I’m glad you stopped by.”

  I walked in, making sure to close the door behind me, because I didn’t need Mrs. Vincent knowing more than she already did. I kept my back straight and my shoulders squared, even though I felt like I wore a badge of shame.

  I’d screwed a student’s parent. I was a slut who was a threat to all of the other families in the school.

  That’s how some parents and other teachers might see it.

  They wouldn’t see that I was in love. That Tyler Marek was the one man to break me open and love and need everything he saw.

  That he was the one man I needed in the same way.

  I sat down in one of the chairs opposite Mr. Shaw’s desk and placed my arms on the armrests. I cleared my throat. “I wanted to speak to you about —”

  “I know,” he cut me off, dropping the file folders he’d retrieved from his cabinet onto his desk. “I already spoke with Mr. Marek, and I saw the photo online,” he told me, and then asked, “When did this start?”

  I lifted my chin, owning up. “We met at Mardi Gras last February,” I explained. “But we didn’t begin pursuing a relationship until this school year.”

  He squinted, studying me. “Even knowing that you could lose your job?”

  I faltered, dropping my eyes.

  But then I looked back and faced it head-on. “Mr. Shaw,” I started.

  But he held up his hand. “Ms. Bradbury —”

  “Please, Mr. Shaw, let me say this,” I rushed out, quieting him.

  I needed to tell him the truth, so no matter what happened, he would know that I didn’t take my actions lightly.

  “I could never claim to be a person who was used to sacrificing what they wanted for the betterment of someone else,” I confessed. “I’ve been selfish and defiant many times in my life, most of which I regret,” I told him, remembering all too well my parents and sister.