by Aria Blue
The Principal of Pleasure
(Book One of the Principal of Pleasure)
Aria Blue
Contact me. I’d love to hear from you!
[email protected]
Join my mailing list to stay up-to-date on new releases and book deals: http://eepurl.com/b6mX7P
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used factiously.
Copyright © 2016 by Aria Blue. All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be copied or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Printed in the United States of America.
Cover design by: Vamos Write
Books in the Principal of Pleasure Series
#1: The Principal of Pleasure
#2: Dean’s Delight
#3: History and Hedonism
The Principal of Pleasure
Book One: Principal’s Pet
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter One
Presley McGuire sank into the cushioned chair across from his father’s desk. “Dad, are you fucking kidding me?”
Harold McGuire loved his son, but he couldn’t stand him. He leaned forward on his desk with his hands folded in front of him. “Excuse me. You don’t get to give your two cents on who I hire. It doesn’t matter what you think or how you feel. The only reason you even have this job is because of your last name.”
That was true and Presley knew it. McGuire Prep was the number one private school on the west coast. The rich and elite-politicians, doctors, lawyers, sports figures—sent their children there and the waiting list was a mile long. Presley’s great-grandfather had opened it sixty years ago in Orange County’s Cameo Shores. Presley was the principal because of nepotism. Even so, he tried to be a good principal and live up to the family name. He didn’t know how he was supposed to function effectively now that his ex-girlfriend had been hired as the new guidance counselor.
Presley scowled at the dean. “The only reason you have your job is because of your last name. We got a stack of applications for that job and you had to hire Sara? You did this on purpose just to spite me.”
The dean ran his fingers through his thick salt and pepper hair. He was a well-built twenty-years-in-the-future version of his son. “Sara Snow is great at what she does and she comes with many glowing recommendations. I practically had to steal her away from the Langston Institute. I wasn’t about to pass up a great opportunity for McGuire Prep because of your personal drama. If anyone should be bitter, it should be Sara. After the way you treated her, we’re lucky she’s okay with working under you at all.”
Presley chuckled and muttered to himself “Working under me.”
Dean McGuire slammed on his desk. “Presley! You know what? This conversation is over.” He often went from zero to ten like that.
Presley noted the vein throbbing on the right side of his father’s head. “Dad, I hope you’ve been taking your blood pressure meds.” He grinned at his father in the way he knew his dad hated, grabbed a caramel from the candy dish on the edge of the desk, then stormed across the main office to his private office.
Dean McGuire was always stressed and quick to anger while Presley took everything in stride. It took a lot to get him worked up. The father and son couldn’t have been more different.
Before settling behind his desk, Presley grabbed the World’s Best Principal plaque the PTA had given him the year before. They gave him the same plaque at the end of every school year. His chocolate brown hair was sculptured perfectly as always. He spent enough time on it each morning. His dimples were still gorgeous and his teeth glistened white. The first day of school was always the worst, with all the chaos and lack of organization, but Presley didn’t have a hair out of place.
He smoothed out his Italian suit and settled into his leather rolling chair. He needed to read and reply to all the emails he’d gotten that day, but his mind wandered to Sara. How the hell was he supposed to face her again? Not just face her, but work with her. Getting over the love of your life was only possible when you didn’t have to see them every day. Presley sighed. Dean McGuire’s goal in life was to make his son miserable and he definitely succeeded.
Presley arrived an hour before he needed to every day for the first week of school. After that, he’d show up anywhere between eight and ten—after taking his time in the shower and enjoying a nice leisurely breakfast.
Mrs. Wimberly, the office manager and Presley’s pretend aunt stuck her head in his office. “Principal McGuire, I just put the coffee on. I’ll bring you a cup as soon as it’s ready. Oh, and the new school counselor’s here. She’s a pretty little thing.” She gave Presley a wink and toddled out of the office. Mrs. Wimberly was a short and stout woman in her sixties. She reminded Presley of a teapot.
She always wore her red mess of curly hair in a bun on the top of her head and blue-rimmed glasses. Mrs. Wimberly was as sweet as they came and Presley would kill for her.
Mrs. Wimberly was well aware of Presley’s weakness for pretty women, but she had no idea that Sara had once been The One.
Presley took a deep breath, rising from his seat. He was going to have to get this over with sooner or later. He checked himself in the plaque once more—perfect. He liked the way he smelled too. He might just have put on Sara’s favorite cologne that morning, but not on purpose, at least that’s what he told himself.
On the way to the counselor’s office, Presley passed Mrs. Santana, the head office clerk. She was Mrs. Wimberly’s counterpart in looks and personality. Mrs. Santana was tall and so thin she looked as if she might break if she were handled too roughly. Her jet black hair fell straight, halfway down her back. The pointy features of her face reminded Presley of a crow.
She wasn’t sweet like Mrs. Wimberly, but she had a soft spot for both the McGuire men. She just needed a little more convincing when it came to doing favors. Although Mrs. Wimberly and Mrs. Santana bickered often, much to Presley’s amusement, they were the best of friends, almost like sisters.
“Principal McGuire,” Mrs. Santana crowed. “Nice to see you here bright and early. Might this be a new regimen for the new school year.” She knew good and well it wasn’t.
Presley graced her with his famous panty-dropping smile. “No, ma’am. Don’t get used to seeing me before nine.”
Mrs. Santana clucked her tongue and waltzed off muttering something about spoiled rich boys.
Presley paused in front of the Counselor’s office, peering through the glass panels. There was Sarah Snow unpacking boxes and looking just like her name, delicate and bright like a snow flake.
The first thing Presley noticed was her hair. When they were together, Sara had worn her white-blond hair long, almost to her tiny waist. Now it was cut short in a cute little pixie cut exposing her dainty neck. He tried not to think about kissing her neck, right under her left ear, her favorite spot.
Presley liked the new look, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she had cut her hair off because of him, because he had loved it so much. He’d heard of women doing that. Presley could still smell the
soft scent of apple on her golden locks.
He pushed himself forward before more thoughts of Sarah came rushing back. Presley knocked on the doorframe of Sara’s office and waited.
She glanced up, her clear blue eyes wide. She had been prepared to smile and greet her new co-worker, but as soon as her gaze fell on Presley, her smile dropped.
She cleared her throat. “Principal McGuire.” She went back to pulling brightly colored vases carefully from a box and arranging them on a bookshelf.
“Ms. Snow, I wanted to welcome you to McGuire Prep. We’re lucky to have you on board, or so I hear.” Although he didn’t want them to, his eyes traveled down her tight, slender body. Her crisp lavender button-down shirt showcased her breast, which had always been the perfect size for Presley—not too big and not too small. Her dark gray pencil skirt hugged her hips and her perfect ass in just the right places.
Sara gave him that sharp look he was all too familiar with and he knew he shouldn’t have added the last part. Be professional, Presley, he thought to himself.
“Anyway, let me know if you need anything. I suppose we can meet later so we can talk about—”
“I already met with your father yesterday morning. I know just where to start. I’ll be meeting with students starting tomorrow.”
Presley knew that tone. She didn’t want to talk to him or deal with him at all. He couldn’t blame her, but he didn’t really want to talk to her either. What she had done to him had been totally unfair.
“Okay. It seems like you’re all set then. Let the office staff know if you need anything. We’re all here to help.”
Sara gave Presley a tight smile. A fake smile. When she smiled for real, the dimples showed in her apple cheeks and her lips stretched wider. “I will, Principal McGuire.”
Those words sounded so wrong coming from her mouth. He wanted to tell her to call him Pres like she used to, but that would have been weird and inappropriate. “Okay. I’ll see you around,” was all he said before heading out to help direct the morning traffic.
Chapter 2
The second day of school had come to a close. Principal McGuire visually swept the halls to make sure all was well. Plenty of teachers had left at their dismissal time, but a few had stayed behind to get a head start on all the tasks that came with opening a school year.
Presley turned down the history wing and heard a whistle. Marcia Fox, the American History teacher, leaned against the doorframe of her classroom with her arms folded across her ample chest.
He hadn’t had time to speak to Marcia since the year began. In the three years she had worked at McGuire Prep, the two of them had grown . . . close.
Presley stopped and nodded politely. “Ms. Fox. How is your year going so far?”
She scowled at him. “Don’t you give me that shit, Presley McGuire. I have a bone to pick with you.”
She disappeared into her classroom, clearly sending the message that Presley was meant to follow her. He sighed and straightened his tie. Going into Marcia Fox’s classroom always ended in something bad, but the good kind of bad.
When Presley entered the room, Ms. Fox was seated seductively on her desk, with her long shapely legs crossed. Presley licked his lips and thought “Down boy.” It was already too late. He felt a growth at his crotch. It never took much.
“What did I do now?” he asked.
“Really? You put Leo Schneider and Johnny Fidel in my fourth period class together. They’re the two biggest troublemakers in the school. Those little shits should always be separated. You know that.”
Presley did know that. He chuckled at the way she always referred to her students as “little shits”. She loved them and her job, but when they weren’t around, they were all “little shits”. Scheduling classes was one of his biggest summer tasks. It was complicated, tedious, and time-consuming, but super important. When it came down to the History classes, Mrs. Wimberly had taken over so he could head off for his shore vacation a few days early with his best friend, Harrison. He wasn’t about to blame Mrs. Wimberly though when she had simply been doing him a favor.
Marcia wasn’t done complaining. “I mean, it’s only the second day and they’ve become so disruptive already. I’m not going to be able to teach anything during that period.”
Before Presley could answer, Marcia was moving across the room to shut the door. As she made her way back to Presley, she unbuttoned her white silk blouse. Presley admired the way her tight black skirt showed off her thick thighs and he imagined himself grabbing them. Presley didn’t know how the students learned anything the way Marcia dressed. The dean was always pushing Presley to remind her of the dress code, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t deny himself the eye candy. It was one of the few perks of his job.
Marcia stopped in front of him, wrapping her hands around his neck. She was never one to waste time and Presley liked that about her. Just say what you mean and get to the point.
“I had been thinking about you all summer.” Her breath smelled like peppermint gum. “Even when I was with him.”
Marcia had a steady boyfriend. Presley felt slightly guilty about that, but he tried not to think about it. After all, it was Marcia’s job to be faithful to her boyfriend, not Presley’s.
Marcia was strikingly beautiful. With jet-black hair set off by bright green eyes, she reminded Presley of Super Woman and he’d had a crush on Super Woman since he was a little boy. Marcia was the opposite of Sara and anything that could help him keep his mind off her was a plus.
Marcia parted her pink lips and kissed Presley’s neck, sucking right on that spot that drove him crazy. The warmth of her breath along with the soft, moist flickering of her tongue against his skin, caused a growth in his pants. She must have felt it too, because she grabbed it and squeezed with just the right amount of pressure.
“Ahhh,” Presley moaned, as much as he hadn’t wanted to. He unbuckled his pants and shoved her hand down inside. Immediately she ran her soft hand up and down his hardening shaft.
Presley grabbed her long black tresses and pulled her head back. Marcia whimpered. She loved when he did that as long as he didn’t pull too hard. The way she looked at him with her eyes half-closed told Presley that he had it just right.
Since she was satisfying him, he would return the favor. He hoisted her skirt up around her hips. After taking a moment to explore her legs and firm thighs, he slid his fingers into her panties.
He didn’t stop kissing her. He didn’t have to look to know that the panties were tiny and lace. She was already so wet and they had just begun. He ran his fingers over her throbbing clit as she moaned louder and louder. Presley worried for a moment about someone hearing them, but his cock called for his complete attention.
He rubbed his fingers against her faster and faster as she continued to rub him. Every so often she would stop and graze her nails over his balls and he thought he would come at any moment.
Marcia bit his neck gently and Presley knew what that meant. He slid his finger inside of her. For him, there was nothing like the warmth and moistness of the inside of a woman. She stopped stroking him and gripped his shoulders as he moved his finger in and out of her. Marcia buried her head in his chest. She was going to lose it at any moment.
She dug her nails into his shoulders, making the beautiful sounds of a woman being satisfied. Presley fingered her until she came. She groaned so loudly he had to cover her mouth with his own to keep the sounds from escaping. Now it was his turn to come.
He grabbed Marcia by the waist and threw her down on her desk. A pencil holder toppled over and her coffee tumbler rolled to the floor, but they didn’t care. Presley dropped his pants and pulled Marcia’s panties to the side. He held his hard cock in his hand and rubbed it against her clit as she moaned and ground herself against it.
Finally, he slid himself into her. Marcia’s entire body jerked, making the desk move. Presley moved in and out, going deeper and deeper, focused on her clear green eyes.
Like always, they found their rhythm right away.
“Fuck me, Pres. Fuck me.”
He hated when she said that because it reminded him of Sarah, but it wasn’t the time to be thinking about her. He did what he was told and fucked her until they both came. He pulled out just in time, spilling his seed onto the floor.
Presley put Little Pres back where he belonged as the two panted and clung to each other.
“This can’t happen again,” Presley said breathlessly as Marcia pulled him close. She giggled because he said that after every time they fucked and it always happened again. “I’m your superior and this is inappropriate.”
Marcia looked up at him, bright green eyes pleading. Presley knew what she was going to say because she had said it many times before. “Let’s do more than this, Pres. I mean the sex is great and everything, but I want more. We would be perfect together. We could keep it a secret.”
Marcia wanted her and Presley to be a real thing, but that would never happen. He had let a woman have his heart once, and she’d smashed it. Since then he had come to terms with the fact that he just wasn’t the commitment type of guy, no matter how many women tried to tell him otherwise. At thirty-two, he had no intentions of settling down ever.
He pulled away from her. “Don’t worry. I’ll have one of the boys transferred over to Mrs. Hamilton’s class. That’s the best I can do.”
He buckled his pants, leaving Marcia sitting on her desk, looking hurt and desperate.
This can never happen again, he thought. I can’t keep having sex with her knowing that she’s in love with me and the feeling isn’t mutual. It’s cruel. Presley had said that before, but that time he meant it. No matter how beautiful she was or how great the sex, he would never put his hands on Marcia Fox again.