A Lesson in Blackmail: Black Mountain Academy / a Club Alias Novel

by Robichaux, KD

  And then I spot her, at the very back of one of the rows, putting away a stack of books in her arms. I wait until she’s done so I don’t risk making her drop one, which would be loud and call attention to us, and then I start toward her. She looks up when I’m halfway down, and she stops in her tracks. I’m proud of her when she doesn’t take a step back; just the small fidget of her pushing her glasses into place is the only sign of her nervousness.

  “You look beautiful, little mouse,” I murmur, turning to face the bookshelf and straightening a couple that were pushed slightly farther back than the others.

  “Thank you,” she replies in that sweet voice of hers, and I glance at her long enough to catch her shy smile.

  “You wear your hair back for me, baby?” I pull a book off the shelf and turn it over as if I’m reading the blurb on the back.

  I see her shift on her feet in my peripheral vision, and hear her whisper, “Just for you.”

  I close my eyes, trying to fight off the instant arousal, and when I’m unsuccessful, I reach down and adjust my semihard cock. She whimpers.

  There are so many things I want to say to her, so many things I want to tell her I learned last night while I was studying the lifestyle, but when I open my mouth, I’m interrupted.

  “There you are!”

  We both look down the aisle to see Mr. Newman, one of the English teachers, coming toward us.

  “Oh shit,” she whispers, and I almost laugh at her sweet voice cursing only loud enough for me to hear before she steps away from me and says louder, “Mr. Newman, what can I help you with?”

  “Oh, not you, my dear. I’ve been looking for Mr. Black here,” he explains, taking out a handkerchief and wiping his sweaty forehead.

  I turn to face him, keeping my internal grimace off my face when I see him stuff the material back into his pocket. God only knows the last time he washed that thing. The portly man is a wonderful teacher, but goddamn, handkerchiefs are disgusting and unsanitary. I keep the book in my hands so he doesn’t try to shake one.

  “Mr. Newman?” I prompt.

  “Nathaniel, your report you turned in last week was astounding, and so I turned it in for a scholarship contest. You’ve been chosen as a finalist, and I just wanted to let you know they’ll be selecting the winner next week!” he tells me, and I give him an obligatory smile, even though I’d rather him just go away so I can have this private moment with my woman.

  “That’s amazing news,” Evie says, picking up on exactly what I’m thinking and filling in the words for me so I don’t have to lie and act happy that he interrupted us.

  Mr. Newman nods. “You’re going to do great things, Mr. Black.”

  And I hear Evie giggle for a split second before she covers it with a super fake-sounding sneeze.

  “Oh, bless you, dear. The second floor can get pretty dusty. Next time I run detention, I’ll send the little buggers your way, and you can put them on cleaning duty,” he tells her.

  “Thank you, sir,” she says, and I look at her with a raised eyebrow, jealousy making my nostrils flare. She glances up and sees it, and she jerks her head Mr. Newman’s way, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. “Uhh… is there anything else?” she asks him.

  “Nope, that’s it. Guess I got my cardio for the day!” He chuckles and lifts his arm high in order to pat me on the shoulder. And I barely refrain from wiping off where his sweaty palm had touched me.

  “Thank you, Mr. Newman. See you tomorrow,” I tell him, and he waves over his shoulder as he’s already heading back down the aisle. When we hear him make his way down the stairs, I put the book back on the shelf where it goes then turn to face Evie.

  I don’t even have to say anything before she’s fidgeting. “My parents raised me to be polite. You can’t go getting all… puffed up and growly every time I call a male elder ‘sir.’” She’s so flustered it’s adorable.

  “Puffed up and… growly, Ms. Richards?” I smirk.

  “Well… maybe not. But you would’ve been if we hadn’t been at school.” She punctuates the end with one nod, and I have to fight not to laugh at her haughtiness.

  “God, you’re so fucking cute when you try to be mad at me,” I tell her, and she pushes up her glasses once again and then balls her little fists at her sides.

  She whispers, “We’re really going to have to figure this out.” She shifts on her feet. “You seem to like when I speak my mind, but other times….” She doesn’t finish that sentence. “It’s very confusing. I don’t know what I’ll be punished for or when, and it’s… it’s not good for my….” She pulls out the buttoned collar of her blouse, her face flushing.

  Seeing she’s really rattled, I close the distance between us, uncaring if anyone were to see us if my woman is really starting to panic. She comes first. Always. Everyone else be damned, even myself.

  “Baby,” I murmur, cupping her jaw, and she relaxes fractionally. “How about, for now, we keep the punishments and such for the weekends? Once we really get a grip on this thing between us, we’ll hash it all out and make up our own rules. I’m sure that’s something Doc will be able to help us with, right?”

  She nods, relaxing further. “Right.”

  “Very good,” I tell her. And I glance around and behind me before sneaking in a quick kiss then letting her go.

  Back in my seat, I spend the rest of the hour following Evie around with my eyes, like I’ve always done. Only instead of doing it to fuck with her, now it’s to admire the graceful line of her body as she works. It’s to watch for the smiles she gives few and far between, when she gave them to me readily all weekend. It’s to give her a little smirk when she glances my way, letting her know I caught her looking. It’s to watch her expression change when she gazes off into space, and I know she’s thinking of my cock inside her from the way her face flushes crimson.

  When the bell rings and everyone files out, I no longer slam in their left-out chairs with a murderous look in their direction. I push each one in and keep my eyes on Evie while she watches me with a dreamy look on her perfect face.

  When I’m done, I walk up to her desk and bend over it like I always do. And I know my parting words should be just as taunting as they always are, because that’s just who I am, and I’ll always love to watch her squirm.

  “So, Ms. Richards,” I start, and she licks her plump lips.

  “Yes, Nathaniel?” she prompts, and I lift my brow at her unhesitant use of my first name.

  “Have you checked your texts today?” I ask, knowing the teachers keep their cells locked away in drawers of each of their desks per school policy.

  “I have not,” she replies, shifting in her cute little leather flats, so different from the sky-high sexy stilettos she was wearing Friday night, and I find I love both versions of my woman just the same.

  “You should do that soon,” I tell her, standing up from her desk and glancing around to make sure no one else is around to hear us. “Oh, and Ms. Richards?”

  “Yes, Nathaniel?”

  I give her my mischievous grin, looking at her from beneath my brow. “How’s that sweet little pussy today?”

  I spin on my heel and walk to the door, laughing loudly at the look of shock on my little mouse’s face.

  Chapter 16

  Evie

  “Don’t be a dick pic. Don’t be a dick pic. Don’t be a dick pic,” I chant as I unlock the bottom drawer of my desk and pull it open to reach in my purse and grab my phone. No one has come into the library yet, so I sit down in my rolling chair and hold up my phone, ignoring all the notifications on my lock screen and closing my eyes after the facial recognition unlocks it.

  I breathe out a cleansing breath and open them, touching the Messages app.

  There’s only one, and it’s an image from Nate.

  “Don’t be a dick pic. Don’t be a dick pic…” I whisper, and then I tap on the message.

  And nearly drop my phone.

  It’s not a dick pic. Of course it’
s not. Nathaniel may be an eighteen-year-old male with a seemingly insatiable sexual appetite, but he’s also a classy and respectable man. I should’ve known he wouldn’t send me a dick pic. But what he did send me makes me wipe the drool from the corner of my lips.

  The picture is of him lying in bed, shirtless, his white sheets pushed oh-so-low on his hips. He took it from his perspective, so I can see everything from the wide, smooth planes of his chest, over the ripple of his abdomen, past the V of those godlike muscles, and I can just make out the outline of his thick, long cock beneath the covers.

  I close my eyes and blow air out through pursed lips, pulling the phone to my chest. Never in my life have I been with such a perfect specimen of masculinity. Never in my life has any man wanted me or treated me the way Nate does, much less one who looks like this. Is this fate rewarding me for dealing me such a shitty hand before?

  The loud bang of the library door being pushed open startles me from my daydreaming, and I quickly toss my phone back in the drawer and lock it, standing from my seat and welcoming the last class of the day. Being Monday, I’ll still have to stay another hour and a half after school ends for those students who need the library to do their work, and I can’t help but wonder what Nathaniel will be doing once the day ends.

  Two and a half hours later, I’m locking the library door behind me, and I make my way down the long hallway, the red and black lockers on either side of me making me pause once I reach the ones near the restroom. In the very center of them is the silhouette of a cougar, the school’s mascot, and I stop and stare. Pulling my leather planner up to my chest, I hug it as I realize something, and I start to giggle. Standing here and laughing like an idiot, I’m sure I’d look insane to anyone who came upon me, but I can’t help it.

  Being twenty-two with an eighteen-year-old lover… does that make me a cougar?

  I stop laughing and really think about it. I don’t know for sure. Is any woman with a younger man called a cougar? Or is there a certain number of years that has to span between them for it to count? There are only four between Nate and me, really just a blip of time if you think about it. It won’t seem like a big deal when I’m like… twenty-nine and he’s twenty-five. Even less when I’m thirty-seven and he’s thirty-three. Whatever the case, I find it hysterical that our school mascot just happens to be a cougar.

  I continue on my way down the hall, passing classrooms and then the gym, turning a corner to head toward the door closest to the staff parking lot, and I hear a whistle blow, muffled behind glass doors that are fogged over. The door to the indoor swimming pool where the swim team practices. I don’t know Nate’s practice schedule, but knowing he’s the star of the team, I can’t help but wonder if he’s in there. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I push the door open and step inside, the humidity of the huge room making me take in a thick breath that smells like chlorine, instantly feeling clammy.

  I step farther in, seeing four or five bodies sail through the water, nothing but their black swim caps and goggles visible besides their powerful arms pulling them to the opposite side of the pool. Coach Gauntt sits on a diving board, her whistle between her lips and a stopwatch in her hand. When the swimmers reach the end nearest her, she blows the whistle in a short, loud burst and then reads off the time, and I see two of the athletes high-five before they all pull themselves out of the water using the cement edge.

  I recognize Nate’s body instantly, even though his sexy hair is covered in the black swim cap and his eyes are covered in goggles. He’s several inches taller than everyone else, and I feel my face heat when my eyes lower to his black Speedo, my heart doing a little flip knowing exactly what he’s packing inside the black material. Even from an Olympic-size pool of distance, his body makes mine tingle, especially now that I’ve felt what it can do to me. He’s like a magnet, and my feet move me closer to him without my telling them to do so. I’m more than halfway to him when I’m stopped in my tracks.

  “Evie?” I hear a female voice call my name, and my eyes pull up to Coach Gauntt’s position on the diving board. “You need something, hun?”

  My mouth parts, and all that comes out is a stupid-sounding “Uhhh…” as my eyes go back to Nate, who has turned my way, and he lifts his goggles from his eyes, letting them sit on top of his cap. His lips twisting in a little smirk makes my pussy clench.

  “You okay, Evie?” Coach Gauntt prompts again, and the last thing I want is for one of my coworkers to think I’m some kind of idiot, so I spit out the first thing that pops into my head.

  “Um… yeah. I was just wondering if the pool has open swim hours. I uh… my gym doesn’t have an indoor one, and it’s gotten too cold to use the outdoor one.” That sounded believable, right? I mean, I don’t even go to a gym, but surely that would be a thing. At least I hope so.

  “Oh, yeah, sweetie. Right there on the wall.” She points to the other side of the pool to where there’s a bulletin board covered in papers.

  I nod and head back the way I’d come, turning the corner at the end of the pool and squeezing my planner tighter to my chest when I feel his eyes following me.

  The sound of Coach Gauntt’s whistle makes me jump, and I hurry faster to the board when I hear her yell, “Next up, boys!”

  “Hey, Ms. Richards,” one of my sweeter students greets me as I pass by where they’re lining up to start their race.

  “Good luck, Alex,” I reply quietly, and make my way closer to the bulletin board. When I finally reach it, I let out the breath I’d been holding and force myself to focus and look for the pool hours, even though I have absolutely no intention of ever coming here to swim.

  Two things happen at once that nearly make me jump out of my skin.

  Coach Gauntt blows her whistle loud and drawn out, and at the same time a long, muscled arm reaches over my shoulder, a hot and tall wet body stepping up behind me as Nathaniel points to a small rectangular sign on the corkboard, and I squeak, jerking around to face him. He towers over me, especially when I’m in my flats, and with every single one of his muscles on display, and with that darkly hungry look in his heart stoppingly gorgeous eyes, I step back into the wall, squeezing my leather planner to my chest like my life depends on it.

  He lowers his voice, looking me in the eyes. “This looks very precarious, little mouse.” I swallow at his words. “Turn back around and act like what I’m saying is interesting as fuck.”

  My inner muscles squeeze, enough to show me I’m not nearly as sore I was yesterday. I do as he says without pause, feeling the water droplets from his chest sink into my shirt at the top of my shoulders, and I shudder.

  “Did you come looking for me, Ms. Richards?” he asks me, and I answer truthfully.

  “I was heading to my car, and then suddenly I was here, like I was drawn to you.”

  I see his bicep flex, hear him blow out a breath above and behind me, and I feel it on my neck, giving me goose bumps. “Mmm, you don’t know how good that makes me feel, sweet Evie,” he whispers.

  I reach down to rustle in my purse blindly, pulling my phone out. When I unlock it, the first thing that pops up is his picture, since I never closed out the Messages app. He sees it and chuckles as I scramble to close it out and open my Camera app, making a show of taking a picture of the hours sign.

  I turn around, more controlled this time, and he smiles wickedly as he puts just enough space between us to not look suspicious. I glance toward Coach Gauntt out the corner of my eye, but she’s not paying a bit of attention to anything other than her swimmers.

  “I appreciate the photo you sent me, Mr. Black. It’ll be very useful later,” I say quietly, suddenly feeling ballsy and wanting to give him a dose of his own medicine at what my words might mean.

  When I meet his eyes, they’re blazing, his nostrils slightly flared. I swallow thickly, forcing myself to keep my posture, because he looks like he wants to eat me alive.

  “You lay one finger on that pussy and there will be hell to pay… Ms. Ric
hards,” he growls low, and my eyes dart around to make sure no one is near us before I whisper my reply.

  “Well then it’s a good thing I have a vibrator, Nathaniel.”

  All of his muscles tense, and he starts to take a step toward me, but the loud shrill of the whistle being blown saves us both from whatever scene he was about to make.

  “Next set!” Coach Gauntt yells, and Nate curses under his breath before stepping back.

  He looks deep into my eyes, a warning on his face and in his tone. “I’ll call you this evening.”

  I drop my phone into my purse and then pull it higher up on my shoulder, giving him a nod. “Good luck, Nate.” I give him a little smile, my eyes twinkling when he narrows his eyes, leaving him wondering if I’m talking about the phone call or his race as I leave to head out to my car.

  Chapter 17

  Nate

  Nothing could be better than Evelyn’s complete surrender as I sink my cock deep into her scorching, wet, gripping pussy. Nothing. But after last night, I learned that playing power games with her when we’re unable to be together is a close fucking second.

  In my research, I learned the benefits of making a submissive hold out, setting a rule that they aren’t allowed to give themselves pleasure without their Dom’s explicit permission. The site I found romanticized it, making it sound delicious and intoxicating instead of clinical like a few of the other things I was reading sounded. And I’m man enough to admit I like the more fantastical version of the lifestyle better. Maybe it’s the reader in me.