by Caisey Quinn
Student Seduction
CAISEY QUINN
Student Seduction
Copyright © 2019 Caisey Quinn
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously.
Edited By: Impeccable Edits
editsimpeccable.com
Created with Vellum
Also by CAISEY QUINN
Don’t miss the beginning of Aiden and Emersyn’s story in the prequel novella, Summer Seduction! Currently free at caiseyqunn.com!
The Seduction Duet
Summer Seduction
Student Seduction
The Arrangement Series
Coming Soon
Inconvenient Arrangement
Temporary Arrangement
Casual Arrangement
Complicated Arrangement
Nashville’s Finest Series
Lit Fuse
Live Wire
Deadly Retribution (TBA)
Protective Detail (TBA)
Neon Dreams Series
Leaving Amarillo
Loving Dallas
Missing Dixie
Music City Series
(formerly the Kylie Ryans series)
Small Town Girl (formerly Girl with Guitar)
Cross My Heat (formerly Girl on Tour)
Play it Again (formerly Girl in Love)
Standalones
All I Need
Falling for You
Falling for Fate
Keep Me Still
Give Me You
Last Second Chance
Dark Net Novels
(written as Trinity Scott)
Blood & Lace
Sin & Silk (TBA)
Shadow & Glass (TBA)
Contents
Untitled
Prologue
1. Emersyn
2. Emersyn
3. Aiden
4. Emersyn
5. Emersyn
6. Emersyn
7. AIDEN
8. Emersyn
9. Emersyn
10. Aiden
11. Emersyn
12. Aiden
13. Emersyn
14. Aiden
15. Emersyn
16. Emersyn
17. Aiden
18. Emersyn
19. Emersyn
20. Emersyn
21. Aiden
22. Emersyn
23. Emersyn
24. Emersyn
25. Emersyn
26. Emersyn
27. Emersyn
28. Emersyn
29. Emersyn
Epilogue
A Note from the Author
Acknowledgments
30. Playlist
About the Author
For A.E.
Alarm clocks, late night talks, and rearview mirrors still remind me of you.
“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself…”
-Oscar Wilde
Prologue
“It’s okay, Em. She has Loo Pus,” my little brother reminded me as I held the ice pack to his cheek. Shoving my hand away to hold it himself, he muttered “I’m not a baby.”
As if I had forgotten either fact on his first day of junior high.
My twelve-year-old brother is not a baby and my mom has Lupus. I still flinch at the sound of the hideous word that had changed our lives irrevocably. Well, the second most hideous word, anyway.
Deborah would be the first.
Three and a half months ago, shortly after my mother’s diagnosis, my dad decided his assistant Deborah was worth moving across the country to California for. They’d been having an affair and she’d had enough of being his dirty little secret, moving to LA to pursue her acting career. Now they were getting married and he was “managing” her or whatever, leaving us here.
The three of us trying to stay afloat in the midst of Hell.
My mom, frequently ill and angry, lashing out at us unpredictably as her condition progressed, had just slapped my brother for telling our dad on the phone that she hadn’t been out of bed all week. As if, at twelve years old, he was somehow supposed to know the intricate rules of the games adults played.
“It’s not okay, Ethan,” I said, straightening. “I’m well aware of what she has.” I kissed the top of his head and carried my mom’s breakfast past him into her room. “Lupus is going to be the least of her problems,” I bit out under my breath.
“I heard that,” she sneered when I handed her the plate of scrambled eggs.
“Hear this,” I growled right back, leaning down into her personal space. “If you ever, and I mean ever, lay a hand on him again, I will pack us both up, and we will move to California with Dad. That will be the last of us you ever see.”
She huffed out a breath of disbelief and glared at me. I inhaled the scent of her unwashed hair and sweat.
“If you think I’m bluffing, or you think I’m going to let you take your anger out on him ever again, try me.”
Suddenly her eyes filled and her mood shifted instantly.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” She looked at the bed and the plate and waved her hands. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t supposed to be my life.”
“I could say the same thing, Mom.”
She placed her head in her hands. I sighed. A tinge of sympathy weighed on my chest, but the anger that flashed hot when I saw the bright red handprint on my brother’s delicate cheek still remained.
“It is, though,” I said, slightly softer than before. “And we have to figure out a way to deal with it. Before it destroys us all.”
She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “How’d you get so smart?”
“Good genes, I guess.” The truth was, after Dad left, I went from being an average high school student to an in-home nurse and single mother overnight. It had been an extremely difficult summer, but now, I was used to it. I just wasn’t used to throwing school in the mix.
Before her Lupus diagnosis, my mother was an extremely successful divorce attorney. She worked such long hours that I’d always taken a great deal of responsibility for Ethan. But when Dad was here, at least I had help.
Her shoulders slumped forward. “Tomorrow will be better.”
She said it with the sad resignation of someone who’d said it a hundred times only to see it proven false each and every time.
“I’ll check in on my lunch period.” I handed her a glass of water and a handful of medication. “I’ll help you take a bath tonight when I get home, if you like.”
She mumbled what sounded like “okay,” and began to pick at the eggs with her fork. “They need more salt,” she complained.
“Dr. Lewis said to avoid salt, Mom. I put lemon pepper in them.”
She made a sour face then resumed pushing them around on her plate and ignoring me.
Once I was out of her room, I closed her door and leaned against it.
My cell phone chimed and I pulled it out of my back pocket.
Dad, the screen said.
Call me when you can. Your brother texted me. We need to talk about your mom.
For a brief moment, I closed my eyes and thought about him.
Not my dad.
Aiden Singleton.
I remembered what it was like to paint with condiments on a side
walk, to be alive and free roaming convenient stores in the middle of the night, to make love until the sun came up.
I’d held onto the memories of our brief time together like a life raft these past two weeks.
“We’re going to be late, Em,” Ethan said quietly from the end of the hall. His cheek was still pink but I hoped it was from the cold of the ice pack not the slap.
I grabbed the keys to Mom’s Volvo and we made our way to the door. I was exhausted and it wasn’t even eight in the morning yet.
This house was getting harder and harder to breathe in.
But if I had known what was coming that day, the first day of my senior year of high school, I would’ve stayed home.
1
Emersyn
I was ten minutes late to my homeroom class. U.S. History and Government in room 219 the roster posted on the office door had informed me when I checked in. I didn’t look up before taking the only available seat in the front corner of the room.
I spotted my best friend Drew out of the corner of my eye and tried to give him a subtle smile. I was grateful we had at least one class together. His mom had likely already texted and told him what kind of morning I was having.
“Ms. Tyler, thank you so much for joining us,” the man in the tie at the front of the room called out. I wanted to crawl inside myself.
I was late on the first day and this guy had decided to make it An Issue. Great.
The carline at the junior high had been ridiculously long. With all the drama of mom slapping him, Ethan forgot the lunch I’d packed him. I didn’t have time to go home and I had no cash on me so I had to run inside, find Drew’s mom—who taught at the adjoined elementary school and was basically a saint—borrow five bucks then take it to the office to put in my little brother’s lunch account.
Judging from the tone of my teacher’s voice, this day was about to go from bad to worse.
I’d just sat my bag down when he spoke again. “Must be nice to be young, carefree, and so negligent with other people’s time.”
My head snapped up. I blinked in surprise, flames licking the back of neck as my eyebrows nearly hit my hairline. “Excuse me?”
Surely this complete stranger did not just say carefree to me like he had any idea what my life was like.
Hoping I misheard him, I looked directly into his handsome, familiar, albeit now-bearded, face.
No. This cannot be happening.
This had to be a nightmare. Like the recurring one I had about the time I almost drowned when I was eight.
Aiden stood there, in a tie of all things, glaring at me.
But I saw more than an uptight, yet freakishly handsome teacher.
I saw Aiden Singleton from my art history class at Southeastern this summer.
Convenient store Aiden, held me all night long Aiden, hockey jersey Aiden. Has-been-inside-my-body-taker-of-my-virginity Aiden.
Infinite giver of earth-shattering orgasms Aiden.
Aiden, who I ghosted after our unforgettable night together. For reasons he probably wouldn’t understand, which is fine since now is neither the time nor the place to explain.
But this man is not my Aiden. This Aiden is angry. At me. And he’s not done.
He crossed is muscular forearms across his broad chest. “It’s the first day of your senior year, Miss. Tyler. And you couldn’t be bothered to be on time like the rest of your classmates. My hope is that you do intend to fit school in somewhere between partying and Instagramming makeup tutorials.” A low snicker of laughter rolled across the room. “While your education is clearly not a priority for you, in the future, it’d be good if you were punctual, at least for my class. Do you think you can manage that, or is it too much for you?”
He placed the class syllabus and a blue index card containing my locker information and schedule on my desk. I stared at both without moving for a solid minute before looking up. I know because I counted to ten six times trying to calm myself.
My teeth clamped together and my hands shook as I held my schedule card. I didn’t get my mother’s red hair, but I had a touch of her temper. And this man had ignited it.
He was pissed, and maybe I deserved it. But we both knew it wasn’t because I was late to class.
When I glanced up, Drew made panicked eye contact from across the room and shook his head.
But it was too late.
I glared into the brightest, clearest, crystal blue eyes I’d ever seen. A sandy brown stubbled beard shaded his squared jaw. He was painfully good-looking, making it almost impossible to stare directly at him. Almost.
“I don’t know, Mr…” I made a big show of looking over to where his named was scrawled on the dry erase board at the front of the room. As if I didn’t already know it. “…Singleton.” I cocked my head and stood to gather my things. “I mean, yeah, I’m late. But I’m here now. Do you think you can manage not to be a presumptuous ass, or is that too much for you?”
He took a step back and sputtered out what might have been my name. I couldn’t hear over the ringing in my ears.
I tossed my syllabus and schedule into the weathered black leather bag I’d been using as a backpack for the last two years and headed toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To the office,” I said on my way past him.
“That’s not necessary, Miss Tyler,” he informed me calmly. He seemed to have recovered from my outburst, but I hadn’t. “Please return to your seat.”
“Oh, it is, Mr. Singleton,” I said once I’d made it to the door.
His eyes pleaded with mine. “Any why is that?”
To request a class transfer since we had sex two weeks ago. Snapping my mouth shut, I tried my best to keep my volatile words inside. But it was no use. I was too far gone.
The day had already gone to Hell and it had barely even started.
The morning passed like a horrific montage behind my eyes. My mom looking like unwashed death, Ethan’s sweet, innocent, abused face covered in an angry red hand print, Dad’s text, the forgotten lunch and rush to come up with some money. The constant struggle that contained no end in sight.
This was only the beginning.
Something inside of me broke, bursting wide open when an arrogant man I’d given myself to was blatantly mean to me. I didn’t know how to fix it. I had to let some of it out, even though the consequence would probably make everything worse.
“Because, if I have to stay in here one more minute, I’m going to tell you to go fuck yourself. And, frankly, I don’t need this today.”
Shoving the heavy door open roughly with one hand caused an explosion like gunfire. I felt a deep sense of satisfaction letting it slam behind me.
Only as I walked toward the office did the full weight of what I’d done begin to bear down on me. I’d barely made it halfway through my death march when I heard footsteps rushing to catch up with me.
I turned to see Drew adjusting the bag hanging off his shoulder. He still moved with a slight limp in his gait after being attacked over the summer. “Em. Wait up.”
I stopped so he wouldn’t have to jog. “I’m going to tell Principal Stewart what happened and take my punishment, Drew. I’m over it. I’m over this whole damn place already.”
Do not cry. Do not fucking cry.
“Rough morning?” Drew’s wide round puppy dog eyes softened, imploring me to unload my burdens as they always did.
Damn you, puppy dog eyes of doom.
A sob escaped my throat. “She’s getting so much worse. She slapped Ethan this morning. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
“Hey, shhh.” Drew hooked an arm around my shoulders. He smelled like the cool, crisp fall air outside and a freshly opened box of Dove soap. “It’s okay. Listen, Ethan’s a tough kid. I’m sure he’s forgotten it already. And that guy in there, he’s a first year teacher. If you report what happened, it’s going to look as bad on him as it does on you. Let’s go grab some coffee and
come back for second period. I talked to him. My money says he won’t report it if you don’t.”
“Talked to him?” I wiped beneath my eyes and pulled my face from his shoulder. “What do you mean, talked to him? You didn’t say anything about my mom, did you?”
I’d told Aiden she’d been sick for a while. I just hadn’t told him the details.
“No. I just said that you had some family stuff going on and weren’t late because of some trivial reason like Instagram or makeup. He needed to know what a dick he’d been, too.”
I didn’t want him or anyone else for that matter, knowing I had ‘family issues.’ The sting of betrayal was painful, but Drew had been my best friend since sixth grade. I knew he meant well.
We walked into the office and Drew told Ms. Kari he had forgotten his lacrosse gear at home and needed a ride. Our high school was small and Ms. Kari was pretty chill.
She shook her head. “You know you’re not supposed to sign yourselves out until you’re eighteen.”
“I am eighteen,” Drew piped up. “But I’m still on pain meds and just took a pill so I probably shouldn’t drive. Just trying to be responsible.”
His words brought back an unbidden memory of Aiden’s brother asking us to go on a beer run. I pushed it back into the depths of my mind.
The bruising on Drew’s face was fading and I was pretty sure he’d put some concealer on to cover it, but the black eye was still obvious.