Rule Him: A virgin student/teacher forbidden romance (School of Seduction Book 1)

by Gisele St. Claire

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  EPILOGUE

  Uncover

  STALK GISELE

  Other Books by Gisele

  Rule Him

  School of Seduction

  By:

  GISELE ST.CLAIRE

  ***

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  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Copyright © 2017 By: Gisele St.Claire

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Gisele St.Claire holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  Chapter 1

  Candy

  "You have to lose the 'v' card this semester," ordered my best friend, Larissa.

  It was fine for her; she'd been in love with Jeff Williams since eighth grade. They had got engaged a couple of months ago, and she had their whole future life mapped out. Exactly when they would get married, how many kids they would have, where they would live after college. It helped that both of them, like me, are from the Upper East Side in New York City with parents who had so much wealth we didn't discuss it. Most around here flaunted it instead, ‘Oh look what Daddy got me when he returned from Singapore’, then they would show off their latest vintage Rolex. Everything had to be the latest trend. Every step one-upmanship. In truth, deep inside I found it all dull but if I didn't go along with it, then I'd be the laughing stock of Lincoln High and no one ever wanted to make themselves that. So instead I immersed myself in the latest fashions, talked about boys and right now, planned for my eighteenth birthday party, which was to be the party of the year according to my mom. My father was in politics, and my mom ran her own Interior Design company. I didn't see them much, usually only when they needed to show me off to their company. That was fine with me. When my best friend had gone, I liked my own company. I loved anything involving words and using my brain: reading, watching the news, etc. Right now, my brain was screaming for me to make Larissa go home.

  "I'm not rushing to lose my virginity. I want to be in love. It's important to me," I replied, as I rubbed my brow.

  "Oh, you can always pretend on your wedding night. Just say your battery operated boyfriend broke your hymen." Larissa waved off my response.

  "No." I had become so pissed by this point that I snapped the pencil I was holding in half. Larissa either failed to notice or ignored me. Either way, she didn’t give up.

  "Julian Murphy likes you. He's hot."

  Julian was the star player of the varsity baseball team. He was the guy all the girls wanted; even loved-up Larissa found him ‘to die for’. He did nothing for me. He was good looking, sure. All tall and lean with a fit body and a perfect smile. But he lived for sports, and I loathed them. Plus, he liked to collect girls v-cards like trophies, so there was that. I was not going to be a notch on a bedpost.

  No, I dreamed of my perfect guy. He would be hugely intelligent. Tall. Dark-haired. Maybe of slim build, rather than pumped up muscles. Gentle and kind. He'd look at me like I was his everything. Larissa said I read too many fairy tales when I was growing up. Huh, our lives were like fairy tales: balls, designer gowns and shoes, staff to do our bidding. Maybe what I wanted was an anti-fairy tale, where I was the Princess who went after the Prince, not the other way around.

  "Earth calling Candy."

  "Huh?"

  "You went off in a daydream again there, Candy. Now, your eighteenth. What's going to be the theme?"

  "Sleeping Beauty," I announced.

  "What? That movie's been out for months now. Sleeping Beauty is over. You need something different, girl."

  "I want to do Sleeping Beauty. For presents I want books. I'm going to build a huge library like the one the Beast had. Mom said for my birthday I could have the guest room next to mine. She's going to have an adjoining door put in, so it will be perfect."

  Larissa's brow creased, "Your mom is okay with you having a library room?"

  I sighed. "Not exactly, it's supposed to be an even larger walk-in-closet. One with luxury seating where she can get designers to visit me in person, rather than using her room."

  "Good luck with that then, honey. Anyhow, I'm with your mom on this one. Books? Forget books, collect shoes!"

  Larissa looked at her Givenchy watch, her blonde carefully streaked and blowed out long tresses fell forward as she bent her head. "Oh crap, I should have called a driver by now. I'd arranged to meet Jeff at six." She grabbed her Coach purse and Valentino jacket and kissed me on both cheeks before running to the door.

  "Laters, baby," she giggled. Fifty Shades had recently released on DVD, and she kept telling me she and Jeff were using it as inspiration. Far too much information.

  With that, my bedroom door closed and I was left alone in peace.

  My room was my haven. A large space with light wooden floors with underfloor heating, my bed sat atop a large Madeline Weinrib rug. Vast curtains hung from three high windows and as well as my current walk in closet; I had two purple velvet armchairs and a chaise longue. These were beside a wall of bookcases, filled to the brim with novels and non-fiction. I had a thirst for knowledge and an overwhelming urge to break free from my gilded cage to explore the world out there. Just Manhattan itself held untold secrets. I'd never visited places like Carlo’s Bake Shop. My mom would say, ‘what's the need when our staff could make you your own pignoli cookies’.

  I was relieved to be back in school tomorrow. My last semester, I needed to study hard. My dream was to write novels, but my teachers held the belief I would work for my mom's company after graduation. I could if I wanted; I was on course to pass art. It would seem I'd gained this talent genetically, but my head and heart yearned to write novels like the one's I read voraciously. The only time I'd mentioned this to my mom she had rolled her eyes. It hadn't even been worthy of a comment. I wanted to train as an English teacher so that I could hopefully instill the same love for prose as I had, in other student's lives and then write in my spare time. My mom would accuse me of trying to make her a laughing stock, which was why I hadn't told her my plans. I was doing extra classes to earn credits for college, and I needed some additional tutoring to ensure my grades were the best they could be. I was looking forward to the morning when I could get out of the townhouse and get back to my studies, and see if there were any teachers or students offering mentoring or tutoring this final semester.

  I grabbed a romance book from my night stand and picked up where I'd left off. For all my romantic dreams, and hearts, flowers and fairy tale ideas, I liked a bedtime read that gave me an idea of what I might expect once I did find a man to take me to bed. I loved to read in detail about tongues trailing down warm flesh, lips nibbling, fingers delving into warm, wet places. On the rare occasions, I masturbated, and I always felt ashamed afterwards, like I was doing something bad. Another prison I was captured in, this time in my mind. I continu
ed to read on, my mind making me the heroine in the book while doing my best to avoid noticing the dampness from my core which was soaking into my panties.

  ***

  The day was underway at Lincoln High, and it seemed as if we'd had no break at all. I slipped back into my routine like it was a comfy pair of slippers. My first class after lunch was English. I knew we had a new teacher as our previous one, Mrs. Donovan, had left to have a baby and wasn't coming back. It was annoying to change teachers at this stage in our education. I wanted to study as much English as I could and worried that if I didn't like the new teacher, it might affect my grades. Larissa started gossiping to me about something or other she'd heard on campus so I heard the door open but I didn't see who came through it.

  I guess I should have known by the fact that the entire female population of the class went silent, that a hot male had walked through the door before I turned around.

  But when I did, holy hell!

  A gray jacket, gray pants, and a crisp, white shirt encased the body of a god. He was lean but athletic. As he moved to place his laptop case on the desk at the front of the classroom, his jacket gaped open showing the shirt stretched against his chest. You could make out his pecs, and I knew just from that brief look that he worked out, whether it was the gym he visited or regular sports he played. His light brown hair was short but sculpted with paste at the top of his head. I didn’t fail to notice that he was built like the heroes of my romance novels. I felt my body warm up by a billion degrees and I swept my bangs out of my face to try and cool myself down a little.

  "Holy crap, he's gorgeous. I'm up for studying if the subject is the teacher." Larissa whispered directly into my ear.

  "Sshh," I warned her; she was in danger of being a little too loud.

  The godlike creature spoke.

  "Hey there, I'm Mr. Newell, and I'm your new English Teacher."

  His voice was deep and husky; he should have been paid to narrate commercials, not be stuck in high school with a bunch of awkward teenagers.

  It was a few minutes later when Larissa prodded me in the arm.

  "Hey, what's that for?" I asked her.

  "She's called Candy," Larissa said.

  "Candy," He looked at his register, "Ah yes, Candy Appleton. Candy, we were just all introducing ourselves, so I could get to know you a little, so if you're not too busy daydreaming, perhaps you could tell me a bit about yourself."

  I flushed what must have been a deep shade of pink. I'd been so busy mooning over the hot, new teacher and thinking about him in a scene from the book I'd read last night that I'd had no clue that he had carried on addressing the class and started introductions. Disappearing into a world of my imagination was a bad habit of mine. When I had been younger, I had been known to be so engrossed in books that I had not had a clue as to what was happening in my current surroundings. Larissa once left me alone with a book because I had blissed out on words in the school library and I hadn't noticed she had gone until my cell had buzzed thirty minutes later. I was a lost cause to literature, and now it seemed a lost cause to lusting after sexy new male teachers.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Newell. I didn't sleep well, and I must have drifted a little." I lied. "My name is Candy Appleton. Erm, what else did you want to know?"

  "Your favorite subject and what you hoped to do after graduation." His lip was in a firm line, and I didn't know if he was upset with me or amused.

  "My favorite subject is English. I love literature, and I hope to become an English teacher." I told him truthfully, hoping he didn’t think I was making it up in order to appease him for my daydreaming.

  "Well, in that case, maybe you need to make sure you get enough sleep for future lessons so you can achieve your dreams." He replied, and then he moved onto the next student.

  I felt like he'd physically slapped me. I was a great student with no problems in English, and before today I didn't remember ever being scolded by a teacher. Larissa was the one who got pulled up in lessons as she continually sneaked peeks at her cell to see if Jeff had messaged her.

  For the rest of the class, I made sure to keep my head down. I listened to what he said to the class, but I tried to avoid eye contact with him. If I thought he was about to look my way or if he did, I quickly averted my gaze. Great. My favorite lesson was now going to become the one I dreaded most. Then I almost physically groaned. I needed to speak to him after class to see if he knew anyone who could give me extra tutoring when all I wanted was to bolt from the classroom.

  The bell sounded, and everyone packed their belongings away and began to leave. I hovered around Mr. Newell's desk as another three female students had got there first. They were asking ridiculous questions, and I knew they were doing it just to try to get his attention. I could see Brandy Elliott side-eying me as if to tell me to get lost.

  Finally, they left, and it was just him and me.

  "Miss Appleton. How can I help you?" He tilted his head to the side.

  In class, the teachers called us by our first names, so I felt I was being reprimanded once again with the formal use of my last name.

  "I'm looking for some extra tutoring this term to improve my grades for college. I wondered if you knew anyone. I appreciate you just got here and so you might not have any information for me right now, but I would be grateful if you could look into it for me. Mainly I'd like to focus some more on film and literature."

  "Right. Anything in particular? The romantic poets like Wordsworth and Keats for example?"

  I looked up at him for the first proper time all lesson. His face bore no hint of a smile or the friendliness with which he'd addressed the class. Rather, he looked irritated.

  "I'd like to look at developing screenplays in particular and anything about character development. I'm hoping to write a novel someday." It was the first time I'd voiced that out loud to anyone, but this man's acerbic manner had got to me. What had I done to warrant it? I'd only day dreamed a little in class.

  He rubbed his forehead.

  "I'm sorry." He said. "It's just I get that a lot. Female students asking for extra tutoring when they want me to quote romantic love poems to them really and have no interest in learning at all. Take a seat, Candy; it would appear we got off on the wrong foot, let's start again. Now, what's this about writing your own novel? What are you interested in writing about?"

  Though I was annoyed that he thought I wanted him to read love poems to me, I considered the girls who had stood there before me and the fact I’d daydreamed about him and decided to move on. I pulled up a chair at the side of his desk, and he sat back down himself.

  "I have a notebook at home, and I write in it often. Lots of character observations and things I find witty or interesting. I'd like to write a novel about someone who's trapped in life and wants to spread their wings. I don't have any more details at the moment. It's just been a dream. I never told anyone before. I always say I want to be an English teacher."

  "So, you don't?" He asked.

  I shrugged. "I think I'd be a good teacher, but my mom is an interior designer and is set on me working for her."

  His face got the look everyone’s got when they realized who my mom was.

  "You're Irena Appleton's daughter?"

  I sighed. "Yes."

  "Ah," he studied my face. "And you don't share the same ambition I take it?"

  "I appreciate what my mom does, and her talent is out of this world. I'm good at art. There's no reason why I shouldn't go into the business..."

  "Except your heart is in English?"

  "You got it, and if writing a novel is too ambitious—and I'm not stupid I know my chances of getting a traditional deal are like identifying an individual raindrop in a puddle—then being a teacher of English would be my next dream, so I can try to get other people to see how beautiful the language is."

  "Candy, you know that as a teacher, mainly you just try to get through class without students breaking out in a fight. If they open the textbook in a lesso
n, you think you've done well."

  He looked downbeat.

  "Surely it's not that bad?"

  He shook his head. "It was at my last school. I'm hoping here it's going to be a little different and seeing as I already have at least one student who loves English, I guess I'm already ahead. I'll tutor you myself. That way, if no one else in the entire school likes English, at least I'll have one student I can bore with literature. Do Mondays and Thursdays straight after school fit in with your timetable?

  I thought of my week. All I'd need to do was quit the senior prom committee which would be a bonus as it was another pain in my ass. As Larissa kept reminding me, I needed to get a date for it, and I didn't want one. My mom was also all prom, prom, prom as if I would be attending a royal ball not an end of school year party. ‘Oh, it's so important. I loved mine with your father’, was all I ever heard these days, well, that and my eighteenth.

  "Those days would be fine. Thank you so much, Mr. Newell, and I'm sorry again, for the daydreaming. I'm a really good student usually, I promise."

  He smiled, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. His lips had just the correct amount of plumpness and framed his teeth beautifully when he smiled.

  I realized I was in danger of daydreaming again, so I jumped up.

  "Thanks again, Mr. Newell. I'll see you after school Thursday."

  And with that, I dashed from the classroom.

  Larissa was hanging around outside. She usually rushed straight off to see Jeff, so she was trying to hit me up for gossip.

  "So, what was that all about, Candy? Are you trying to get detention so that you can have him all to yourself?"

  I gave her a nudge. "I was asking him about extra tutoring. I already told you I needed it before your new man crush arrived in class."

  "You mean you don't find him attractive? Are you completely blind?"

  "He's okay, I guess." I giggled.