The Master Class

by Louisa Bacio

  The Master Class: Book Three of the Sex University Series© 2016 by Louisa Bacio

  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, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  For more information contact:

  Riverdale Avenue Books

  5676 Riverdale Avenue

  Riverdale, NY 10471.

  www.riverdaleavebooks.com

  Design by www.formatting4U.com

  Cover by Scott Carpenter

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62601-270-7

  Print ISBN: 978-1-62601-271-4

  First Edition March 2016

  Chapter One

  Ms. Lucy slipped into her black leather pants, pulling them up over her ass. In the mirror, she admired how the fit cupped and slightly lifted her cheeks. She inhaled and zipped them. Time to put her armor on.

  She slid her feet into high-heeled boots that stopped right below the knee and tucked the pants inside. After pulling the matching black corset over her head, she snapped the front clasps and turned to Clarissa. Her lover stretched out on the bed—lips swollen pink from their kissing. She lay on her side, hip curved up, an alluring view. The naughty vixen shimmied the edge of her blue silk nightie up, increasing the view underneath.

  “If you keep that up, I’ll never leave. Now come tie me,” Lucy directed, gesturing toward her back.

  “Ties,” Clarissa purred and reached under the pillow to the side of the bed. She pulled out one of the Velcro bondage wraps and slipped her wrist through it. “How would you like to be tied?”

  A tightness constricted Lucy’s chest. How she loved Clarissa. She’d never given herself to someone like she had to Clarissa. The fear of having it all taken away haunted Lucy.

  I gotta let the fear go, or else it’ll eat me up.

  Pointing a finger at Clarissa, she said, “You, I’ll deal with later. Right now, you need to help me finish dressing, or I’ll be late to my appointment.”

  She glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes before meeting with the prospective student. For some reason, he’d requested a private meeting with her. The sessions were for couples, and he’d tried to apply as a single. He’d been rejected, and rightly so.

  She could overturn the decision for a good reason. But she couldn’t think of one. Perhaps he’d be able to persuade her. That was probably his hope.

  Clarissa knelt on the bed and wrapped her arms around Lucy’s body. She caressed Lucy’s breasts. She lifted the back of her hair and sucked on the sensitive nape of her neck. She moved to her ear, trailing her tongue along the way and sending shivers of pleasure through Ms. Lucy’s body. “Do you promise to come back to me soon?”

  “Promise.”

  The laces at her back tugged, and Lucy sucked in her breath. Nothing like putting on her leather armor to get ready for action. In this get-up, people had a hard time not listening to her. Hell. They respected her. She grabbed control with both fists. Nothing stopped her.

  With a few final tugs, Clarissa finished the bow.

  “Now, you go get ’em.” Claire delivered a playful swat on her ass with a resounding smack.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Lucy said, rubbing her bottom as she walked away.

  “That’s what I was hoping for.”

  * * *

  Ms. Lucy lived on the grounds of San Francisco Sex University, SFSU. Most of the instructors at the school did. They liked to think of the campus as much more fun and enticing than those of more traditional higher education. After shutting the front door of her mini-condo, Lucy locked it and walked the path to the main administration building. The temperatures of late spring tended to be moderate but rain threatened at any time. From outside, the school buildings looked like those of any other campus. One could walk by on the street and have absolutely no idea of the sexcapades that went on behind the ivy-covered brick walls.

  And that’s the way she liked to keep it. In the past, they’d had some scandal with a few students going missing. They’d brought in an undercover officer, Reed, who’d had a personal reason for wanting to solve the mystery. Since it was a sex school, it had been difficult for him not to get up close and a bit personal with the students, especially one in particular. Yes, they didn’t just teach sex. Quite a few students hooked up and ended up falling love too. Both Reed and his mate Amanda now taught at the school, and they’d be getting married soon.

  Just like me. She’d met Clarissa through the school, and her life had changed.

  A happy sigh escaped Lucy’s lips, and she fought the desire to float among the clouds. If she was going to continue to run the university, she was going to have to toughen up. Yes, she could be soft and loving in the bedroom with her mate, but outside in the “real” world, she needed to keep that edge. Who’d listen to her if she grew weak?

  Always a reason not to get involved.

  She had to admit she’d already given her heart to Clarissa. Now, it was time to give her more of her mind.

  Yes, if they knew what was happening on campus, some people would be shocked. Even more, though, would want to come to play.

  Society’s views on sex—even slightly kinkier sex—swayed to and fro. After the debacle of Janet Jackson’s nipplage popping out during the Super Bowl halftime show, it swung way conservative. More recently, though, people had opened up about their antics in the bedroom. Even people considered more “vanilla,” into everyday sex, had an interest in learning more.

  To meet the demand, SFSU had developed the Master Class, where couples could come explore in a safe learning environment. And the response had been tremendous.

  The next semester was set to start in a few days, so the campus was quiet. The downtime before the start of a new semester brought a sense of peace and anticipation of what the next group of students would bring.

  Although she was a professor—she held a master’s degree in sex education and an undergrad in psychology—she always said she learned something new from her students all the time. She could teach the same class five times, and suddenly someone would ask a question that had never been broached or seen the subject in a different manner.

  The naysayers preached sex was sex—you put tab A into slot B and went in and out. They’d never experienced the lessons at SFSU, and the Master Class with its couples play added another level to the complexity. Usually, the students remained isolated from their partners during the program. When they got home, they passed along what they’d learned. This new way, both learned at the same time.

  Being with Clarissa inspired the change in the syllabus. Ms. Lucy saw what it was like being in a relationship and discovered how joint teaching could help increase the understanding—and pleasure—for both partners.

  In the BDSM world, Ms. Lucy saw herself as a Dominant—someone who liked to be in control, and have others serve her. In the world created by Fifty Shades of Grey, the characters also used the term sub, which was always lowercase to signify they weren’t in control. Once she’d paired up with Clarissa, though, she’d learned some surprising new information about herself. She actually liked giving up control every now and then. One person in the relationship didn’t have to be subservient to the other.

  She liked to Switch.

  With her students, though, she needed to remain in control and not let her other side out.

  Inside the atrium in administration, she greeted Blaine, one of the front office receptionist twins. He and his brother Wayne had been with her for tw
o years. They resembled the quintessential California surfer boys with long, bleached-out blond hair that hung over one eye. They’d been angling for more responsibility and had recently finished their bachelor’s degrees. She’d toyed with the idea of bringing them on as instructors. What a fantasy they could give somebody. While she hadn’t experienced them in bed, she could easily picture the scene.

  “Good afternoon, Mistress Lucy,” Blaine said, with a slight bow. “Your 2:00 appointment is in your outer office waiting for you.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. “He’s early.” They normally wouldn’t let a student in to wait. What was different about this one?

  “He’s already been here for 15 minutes,” he offered.

  “Hmmm, eager.” That trait could be good or bad. She’d have to decide which one it was, once she met him.

  The door to her office was propped open, but it almost felt like she should knock to announce herself before entering. She hesitated, hand poised to push it open. She shook off the foreign feeling. This school was her territory, and whoever sat on the other side was a visitor. An intruder. He’d been told no, and turned away, and for whatever reason, he’d returned.

  She didn’t owe him anything. She didn’t even have to have this meeting. Something about his plea, and the mention of searching for his fiancé tugged at her emotions—her soft side. Since they’d had students go missing in the not-too-distant past, she thought she be able to help him. Or, every now and then, someone hid out at the school under a false name. Meeting him, and listening to his story, might help her to decide if the person should stay hidden or if he had a legitimate quest.

  “Ms. Lucy, is everything all right?” Blaine called.

  Startled, she jumped. “Everything’s fine.”

  The man shuffled inside the room. She’d been outed. When she entered, she saw the man standing inside her office wasn’t much taller than she was, but something about him spoke of power. He was used to getting his way.

  He had dark hair, olive skin, and dark brown, expressive eyes. Before he spoke, she imagined what he’d sound like: New York Italian. She knew. She’d grown up in the Big Apple and had escaped as soon as she could.

  It was like her past had caught up with her. But she wasn’t the one who’d been running.

  “I’m sorry for intruding.” His voice was deep and gruff but so polite. As if he knew what role he had to play if he wanted to get his way. It sent rumbles through her body, and she did her best to ignore them.

  Oh, would I like to tame him.

  Then she felt guilty for cheating on Clarissa, even mentally. That’s where having a partner got in the way of doing her job. It was her position to tame and break men like the one standing before her—teach them the ways.

  Clearing his throat, he held out his hand. She glanced at it, thinking about the texture of his skin. Would it be rough or soft? She placed her hand in his, and they shook—firm but not uncomfortably so. There were no magic sparks one reads about in romance novels, but a pleasant sensation, and then they broke contact.

  “Please have a seat,” she instructed, moving behind her desk and taking her place. In the seat of power, she regained hers.

  “You’ve been making a lot of noise, Mr. Cavallo. I had to see you. Otherwise, you threatened to never leave, and then there was the allegation of ‘kidnapping.’ I don’t understand. Who do you think we’re holding prisoner? Everyone is here of their own free will.”

  “Please call me Mario. I’m sorry to cause such a disturbance, but the last communications from my fiancée came from San Francisco and this school specifically.”

  He looked around her office. “I’m not quite sure what you do here, but I have a basic understanding, and I have no idea why Lara would be here. She’s not that type of girl.”

  That type of girl? He’d be shocked at what “type” attended the school.

  Shaking her head, Ms. Lucy tried to address the situation with patience. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone registered here under that name. There must be a mistake.”

  “Ahhh wait,” he said, opening a black leather portfolio and removing a few photographs. He inspected them, and a crease marred his handsome brow. In that moment, seeing the mixture of pain and love collide on his face, she knew she’d help him. No matter what it took.

  “I had a private detective look for her. Here are some pictures he took.” As he laid them on the desk in front of her, her heart stuttered as she drank in the photos. The woman in front of her was all too familiar. “She’s going under her given name, Clarissa.”

  Chapter Two

  It should have been her wedding day.

  The moment the door closed behind Lucy, Clarissa sank into the pillows, the tears that had been threatening to come finally falling.

  Being with Lucy was all-consuming, like being inside of a vacuum that sucked out all negative thoughts. It was hard to think of anything, or anyone else, when she was around. Once she’d left, and Clarissa was all alone, that’s when the uncertainty reared.

  How could she go against all she’d learned while growing up? Oh, after seeing the world, she understood she’d been “brainwashed” a bit. Indoctrinated. Coming from a strict, close-knit Italian family, she was taught to follow what the elders said because it was always about what was best for the family. Not her. If they knew she’d “turned” into a lesbian and taken a woman for a lover… well, there would be a high price to pay. It wouldn’t matter much that the new Pope had declared being gay as not quite so bad after all. Her nonna, grandmother, cared. But ultimately, her family would be more upset about her not marrying Mario than her being with a woman.

  The thought of Mario made the tears flow more swiftly. They’d known each other their entire lives and had been promised to each other. Some girls didn’t discover boys until the hormones kicked in. Some liked them from preschool on. Clarissa? It never was an option. Mario was a given.

  He was hers, and she was his. Homecoming dance. Prom. Until she ran away, changed her name and moved in with a woman.

  So much for living an honest life.

  Resisting the urge to dig into her secret stash of photos, she flipped over in bed and stared at the ceiling. Finally, she’d sent the note to cancel the wedding and to ask that they respect her wishes not to be contacted. She’d more than half expected Mario to do something, make some grand gesture, and show up. Something. But she’d jinxed that possibility by doing so much to hide out.

  She didn’t want to be found, did she?

  It was as if she wouldn’t have to face the reality of the situation if she could avoid seeing him and having that confrontation. She remained happy in her new life without closing the old one. But doing so meant no closure, though. Eventually, she’d have to talk with him, but that didn’t have to be today.

  Rather than wallowing in her misery, Clarissa got up and stepped into the shower. She didn’t have a good-luck goddess overseeing her life. The choices she’d made were her own. The hot water cascaded over her face and washed away the salty tears. After Lucy’s appointment, they were going to spend some time finishing the curriculum for the upcoming program. Later this evening they’d meet with the other instructors. With Mandi and Reed’s upcoming wedding, they’d be down two at the end of program. It was bad timing, but sometimes love wasn’t convenient.

  She stepped out of the shower, leaving wet footprints on the tile as she reached for a towel. Lucy wouldn’t like that—leaving a mess. The thought of what she might to do Clarissa made Clarissa bite the inside of her cheek, and she smiled. Yep, definitely a pleasant diversion. After being in a relationship with such a strong man, it felt completely natural to choose someone like Lucy, although, she’d had been some pleasant surprises as far as power play went.

  After drying off, she dropped the soaking towel onto the bedroom floor and dug through her drawer for an outfit. She wanted loungewear, comfortable but sexy. A pair of faded purple yoga pants and a hot pink, cropped shirt called to her. She p
ulled them on, brushed through her long, blonde hair, and decided she didn’t want to deal with it. Instead, she wrapped it up and secured it with a hair tie.

  Next up, she needed some type of lunch. She busied herself in the kitchen, putting together a quick pasta salad of rainbow corkscrews, fresh veggies, chunks of cheese and salami. Italian dressing smothered the entire concoction. Across the top she sprinkled poppy seeds. She dug in and chomped on a broccoli floret. Delicious. Every bite should have a little bit of everything.

  Something was missing though. She puzzled over the bowl before it hit her: olives. At home, they’d used the canned black ones. They’d been a mainstay in her mother’s pantry her entire life. Ms. Lucy had introduced her to green olives. The stores sold them pitless, and something was different about the way they were processed. She’d forgotten what Lucy had told her about it.

  The pasta salad went into the refrigerator to chill, and Clarissa set the table. She placed two bright-green bowls onto the red placemats and brought out some blue salad plates. For someone who spent most of her life wearing black, Lucy tended to like bright colors in her home. Clarissa had been surprised when she first saw Lucy’s home. It was the total opposite of what she’d expected.

  Settled, she surveyed the area and checked the time again. Lucy should have been back a while ago, but something must have kept her. Complications.

  Complications were never good. At least in her experience. She liked things the same, predictable. Which was ironic, given how much she’d changed her life.

  The front door cracked open, and Clarissa looked up expectantly. The look on Lucy’s face was strange—a bit lost. They made eye contact, and Lucy looked back behind her.

  A man followed Lucy in. Clarissa’s chest constricted, and a lump wedged in the base of her throat. She couldn’t breathe. It was Mario. He’d found her. She had no idea how he had or what this would mean. But the thing she feared and wanted the most stood before her. Mario and Lucy, side by side, and neither looked too pleased to see her.