Teach Me a Lesson

by Jasmine Haynes

  And really, had Lance done anything horrendous? David Smith was dictatorial simply to protect his reputation, but Lance had used his authority to protect her. Was that such a bad thing? Would he really try to take over her life, control her every action, tell her what to do, belittle her if he didn’t agree with her decisions? Or was she basing that conclusion on emotions and fears that belonged to the woman she’d been with Martin?

  You’re so terrified of losing control of your life that you can’t even accept help without thinking someone’s trying to take over.

  Lola had it right.

  “We all let ourselves get carried away with our fears sometimes,” she said in answer to Jeanine’s comment. “It’s learning to recognize it before it does any damage that counts.”

  She wondered if she’d recognized it before the damage was irreparable. Only Lance could tell her for sure.

  * * *

  FOR THE REST OF JEANINE’S SESSION, THEY’D GONE BACK TO HER original problem: how to approach her husband about fantasizing and setting limits and ground rules. Actually, setting limits had arisen out of Charlotte’s rules with the principal.

  Did she want any limits? Did they need any ground rules? Or should she just tell Lance she was his submissive, and he could do whatever he wanted? Charlotte wasn’t sure what she needed, except to talk to him. She’d think about what to say once she heard his voice.

  Jeanine, however, had needed coaching and practice to figure out how to convey exactly what she wanted. She would also work on getting David Smith in for couple’s counseling. Charlotte was sure she’d have a difficult time overcoming the hostility between herself and the chairman of the school board. She’d have to do it, though, for Jeanine. It was too much to expect the woman to start over with a new therapist. Jeanine was Charlotte’s responsibility.

  All in all, it was a good afternoon, her remaining sessions of the day going to according to plan. She would have driven straight to Lance’s house, said a dirty word, and received her well-deserved punishment—maybe that was all she needed to say or do—but honestly, she wanted to shower and change. And shave her legs.

  Half an hour after she’d gotten home, she stood in only panties and bra amid the chaos of her bedroom. Piles of discarded clothes were all over the bed. And the chair. And the carpet. What was the perfect outfit?

  She huffed out a frustrated breath, blowing a wayward lock of hair off her forehead.

  Then her phone rang. Her heart leaped. But it was Lola, not the principal. Ah, but Lola could help her pick out what to wear.

  She answered with “Hey, when’d you get back?”

  “We stayed an extra day and just dropped Rafe off at his mom’s. And I’ve told Gray I’m moving in, so we want you to come over to his house to celebrate with us tonight.”

  No, no, no, she had to see Lance. He’d had five days to brood about everything she’d said last week, not to mention that she’d ignored all his phone calls.

  “Woo-hoo,” she said, trying to sound enthused. Honestly, she was happy for Lola.

  “We’ve got a bottle of champagne. And I was hoping you’d help me pack everything up.”

  “Tonight?” Luckily, her voice didn’t come out as a shriek.

  Lola snorted. “Of course not. Tonight’s champagne, next weekend is marathon packing.”

  “Sure, I can help.” But tonight . . . She’d gone on and on for Lola to take this step, so how was she supposed to beg off the celebration? “I’m dying for champagne. What time do you want me there?”

  They decided on forty-five minutes. She could move on to Lance’s house after she’d toasted Lola on her decision.

  What if he’d decided she was too much of a pain in the butt and was already looking for a new sub?

  She couldn’t think negatively. Instead, she chose the sexiest outfit on the bed.

  * * *

  CHARLOTTE HAD BEEN TO GRAY’S HOUSE SEVERAL TIMES. THE YARD was neatly trimmed, edged with manicured bushes that acted as a short fence around the lawn. The front path was trimmed with ground lights, and the porch illuminated by Chinese lanterns on either side of the double doors.

  She rang the bell. Gray—the coach, as Lola liked to call him—answered the door, reaching out to enfold her in a bear hug. He was big and tall, making her feel petite in his embrace, just the way Lance did. A few years younger than Lance, with only a few strands of gray in his dark hair, Gray was Lola’s perfect complement.

  “She’s fussing in the kitchen.” He waved a hand behind him.

  Lola was not a gourmet cook, but since her twin nephews had stayed with her for the summer, she’d been working on her culinary skills.

  “How was the snow?”

  “White.” He gave her a gleaming grin, then ushered her into the living room where the champagne was chilling in a bucket on the brick fireplace.

  Lola floated in from the kitchen, a tray balanced on her hand. Cambozola cheese, rice crackers, and pepper jelly.

  “Yum,” Charlotte said. She’d powered down half a salad out of the fridge before she’d left home, but the cheese was her favorite, and her stomach clamored for a taste.

  While Gray popped the champagne and filled three flutes, Lola set the goodies on the coffee table. She was radiant in a slim-fitting black velvet cocktail dress with a scoop neck and long sleeves that tapered to a point. She’d accented the outfit with black nylons and suede high heels.

  Charlotte didn’t feel underdressed in her ensemble. “You certainly look like the cold weather suited you.”

  Lola’s smile was radiant, too. “It most certainly did.”

  “For you, my dear.” Gray handed a glass of champagne to Lola, then Charlotte. With his own in hand, he raised the flute to toast. “To you, Charlotte, who, I understand, was instrumental in encouraging Lola to move in with me.”

  “My pleasure.” She tapped her glass to his, then turned to Lola.

  And almost dropped the damn thing. “Oh my God, an engagement ring.” A shot of excitement kicked her pulse rate up. She glanced at Gray, his beaming face, then his fingers holding the champagne glass. One finger in particular, which bore a plain gold ring. “You didn’t.” Wide-eyed, she checked Lola’s hand again. Not only was there a solitaire diamond, but also a matching gold band. “Jesus, you got married.” Charlotte could hardly take it in.

  “You aren’t mad that we didn’t take you with us, are you?” The brown of Lola’s eyes deepened. “Gray”—she glanced briefly at him—“surprised me.”

  “I knew if I gave her too long to think about it,” he said, “she’d say no.”

  But had Lola really thought about it? For a woman who couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted to move in, Lola had certainly made a sudden turnaround. “A leap of faith?” she said softly, her voice rising just enough to make it a question.

  Lola touched her hand. “Yeah. I told Gray that you were right. I was crazy for not jumping in with both feet, eyes closed, and nose pinched.”

  Charlotte made a face. “I didn’t say it exactly like that.”

  “Whatever you said,” Gray drawled, “was absolutely perfect.”

  “I would have done it anyway,” Lola said. “Eventually.”

  It was true. Lola might have been scared, but she wasn’t an idiot. She never would have let Gray go. Besides, Charlotte would have beaten her bloody if she had.

  “Anyway,” Lola continued the matrimonial story, “we had to stay until Monday. We couldn’t get the license at the county clerk’s office the week before because of the holiday.”

  “It’s down in Minden,” Gray explained, “on the other side of the Kingsbury Grade from South Lake Tahoe. We decided to get married right there in the courthouse instead of going back to Tahoe.”

  “We couldn’t find a chapel on the spur of the moment that wasn’t just plain cheesy.” Lola stifled a giggle with her hand. “But we had to wait for half an hour while the judge finished sentencing a bunch of prisoners.”

  It sounded romantic
in an odd sort of way. “So you just got married this morning?”

  Lola bobbed her head. Gray laced his fingers with hers. “Yes.”

  “How was Rafe with all this?” She regretted the question as soon as it was out. This wasn’t the time to put a damper on their day.

  “I asked his permission.” Gray pulled Lola under his arm, hugging her close to his side. “He said he thought Lola was good for me. He came into the judge’s chambers with us.”

  It was amazing. Three months ago, Rafe had hated Lola. “So you got married this morning and just rushed home?” They didn’t even get a wedding night. Although having your son in the next room might not be such a romantic idea anyway.

  “Rafe had to be back to school tomorrow.” Gray shrugged. “Some project due.”

  Lola dipped her head to his shoulder. She didn’t seem to mind the circumstances at all.

  “Group hug,” Charlotte said, afraid she’d actually start crying.

  In the end, it was a hug for Gray, an even tighter one for Lola. Charlotte went on her tiptoes, since Lola wasn’t petite like Charlotte.

  “If I’d had time to plan,” Lola said softly, “I would have had you there. I swear.” She pulled back. “We’re talking about doing another ceremony here. Or maybe just a big reception. I don’t know. What do you think?”

  “I think the ceremony at the courthouse after the prisoner sentencing will always be a sweet memory.” Charlotte smiled. “So just do the reception.”

  Lola glanced at Gray, her eyes shining. “Is that a good game plan, Coach?”

  He smiled. The guy was definitely a hunk, and his adoration for Lola gleamed in his gaze. “Perfect game plan. We need a honeymoon, too.”

  They began arguing about locations. Gray suggested Honolulu; Lola said there were too many tourists. Charlotte listened, tossing out a couple of ideas. The fact that Lola had gotten married without her in attendance didn’t bother her. After all, she’d been in the wedding party the first time, and that had been no guarantee of success. She was delighted for her best friend, and the tiny ache beneath her rib cage had nothing to do with their happiness. It was the thought that popped into her head and simply wouldn’t pop back out. The thought that Lola had finally found her coach. And maybe Charlotte wanted to be more than just a submissive to the principal’s dom. Maybe she wanted to feel the way Lola did.

  “How about a sleeper train across the Canadian Rockies?” Gray offered.

  Lola rolled her eyes. “If we take a sleeper car, we’ll never even get to see the Rockies.”

  Gray eyed her. “My point exactly.

  Lola actually blushed.

  Charlotte felt the tiny ache under her rib cage grow in size, sort of like how the Grinch’s heart grew when he saw the Whos down in Whoville on Christmas morning.

  “If the Rockies don’t work, how about the Carlsbad Caverns?” Gray planted a kiss on Lola’s forehead.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Bat guano is supposed to be romantic on a honeymoon?”

  The doorbell rang while they were still far from any agreement.

  “Ah, he made it.” Gray pointed to a corner cabinet in the dining area adjacent to the living room. “Sweetheart, would you get another champagne glass?”

  “Sure, honey.”

  As they went in separate directions, Charlotte didn’t get a chance to ask who he was. She’d been to a couple of parties Gray had, but she couldn’t have said any of those people would be someone exclusive that Gray would invite to toast his wedding day.

  Yet with the murmur of male voices in the foyer, goose pimples rose along her arms.

  Oh God. It couldn’t be. Lola wouldn’t.

  But Lola had.

  25

  GOD, SHE WAS GORGEOUS. LANCE’S HEART THUMPED IN HIS CHEST. Her dress was cinched tight beneath her breasts, plumping them. The fitted waist flared out over her shapely hips, falling in soft folds to her knees. Tasteful, elegant, and sexy as hell, hinting at the promise of sweetly scented skin beneath. How deliciously easy it would be to lift the skirt over her delectable ass and have his way with her. Or give her a good spanking.

  “Principal Hutton, so good of you to come.” Lola Cook held out her hand while Gray filled a champagne flute and began topping off the others.

  “Congratulations.” Her hand was warm in his. She was a pretty woman, long and lithe, with a silky mane of dark hair. “You can call me Lance.”

  “Oh no,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes with a sidelong glance at Charlotte. “You’re the principal and he’s”—she pointed at Gray—“the coach.” She smiled. “Right, Charlotte?”

  “Of course, Lola.”

  His knees felt weak at the sound of Charlotte’s sultry voice. He’d known she’d be here. He’d realized Lola and Gray were matchmaking when Gray had called little over an hour ago and asked him round for a drink to celebrate their nuptials. While he was on friendly terms with Gray Barnett, respected him, and had attended a few parties and faculty functions with the man, he would never have expected to be invited for this particular occasion.

  They’d brought him here for Charlotte.

  Maybe Gray and Lola thought he needed a kick in the pants to get him to see the light. But Lance had seen it the moment he’d found Charlotte searching for her apple under the desk. When she’d held it up, he was as hooked on her as Adam had been on Eve.

  Of course, after the apple incident, they’d been kicked out of the Garden of Eden.

  He held up his champagne. “To the two of you and many happy years ahead.”

  All four glasses clinked in the middle of their circle.

  “We’re discussing the honeymoon.” Gray arched an eyebrow, his gaze on Lance. “I’m voting for a sleeper train over the Canadian Rockies.”

  “It would be gorgeous in the snow,” he mused. “And Lake Louise is beautiful.” The things he could do to Charlotte in a secluded compartment. Parts down below stirred with the thought of it.

  He didn’t realize his gaze rested on her until her face bloomed with color. As if she could see every one of those images playing like movies in his eyes.

  “I told you, Lola,” Gray said dryly. “There are definite possibilities.

  “What do you think, Miss Moore?” No one said a word about Lance’s formal address.

  She parted her lips, licked them, swallowed, then finally said, “I vote for the Rockies, too.”

  “I’m outnumbered,” he heard Lola say. “Wouldn’t it be fun to take the trip together?”

  His heart stilled. She was pairing him with Charlotte. She was taking his side, if indeed there were sides in this.

  “But we’re not even dating,” his dear Miss Moore said.

  “What if the principal asked you out on a date?” Lola urged, while her newly minted husband looked on indulgently.

  Lance was sure the woman knew every detail of every moment he’d spent with Charlotte, all the things he’d done to her, how she’d felt about every single one.

  There were so many things he needed to tell Charlotte, so many things she needed to hear, things he couldn’t say in front of the Barnetts.

  “Say yes,” he murmured. “One date.” Maybe it was an order. Maybe he was begging. Maybe it was both.

  “I recall my first real date with Lola,” Gray said, thoughtfully at first, a smile growing.

  Lola glared at him. “I remember it, too.” Then something passed between them, and the glare morphed to a smile. The heat between them was palpable, almost embarrassingly so.

  Or it would have been if he didn’t feel the same and more for Charlotte.

  She was staring at the newlyweds. “Miss Moore,” he said softly, “one date. If it doesn’t meet your expectations, you’re free.”

  Charlotte would know he meant that she wasn’t his slave or his submissive. That he wasn’t issuing an order. He was begging.

  He could read nothing in the jewel-bright green of her gaze as she asked, “When?”

  “Whenever you like.”
<
br />   “Where will we go?”

  “Dinner. A movie. The theater. Your choice.”

  “Bungee jumping,” she said.

  “Bungee jumping?” He could only repeat her words.

  “So you can jump together, feet first,” Lola supplied.

  “Eyes closed,” Charlotte added.

  “Nose pinched,” Gray concluded.

  It didn’t make a lick of sense. “All right, bungee jumping it is.”

  “Or maybe zip-lining.” Charlotte tipped her head. “Are you too old for that?”

  “Hell, no,” he answered quickly. “Just try me.”

  She gave him a long look, and he couldn’t say he knew exactly what was going through her mind. Bungee jumping, zip-lining. It wasn’t a regular date, but Charlotte Moore wasn’t a regular kind of woman. With her, he would always have his work cut out for him.

  “I most certainly intend to try you,” she answered softly.

  They weren’t done. There was a hell of a lot more to say. But this time, unlike that day on the quad steps when they’d vanquished Smith, she was willing to listen.

  * * *

  IT WAS THE LONGEST HOUR OF HER LIFE. OKAY, THERE’D BEEN LONGER, LIKE WAITING IN HER OFFICE WITH ALICE SLOAN BEFORE THAT parent conference with the Wrights and Smiths the day before Thanksgiving. But the length of this hour was way up there.

  Not that she wasn’t completely over-the-top happy for Lola and Gray. But she was dying to know what Lance’s talk about a date really meant.