by Dani René
“I don’t know. Parties are not really my thing,” I lie, already feeling the anxious nerves twisting in my stomach. The last time I went out and got drunk, I ended up cuffed in a police station. I still can’t believe my actions got me caught, but then again, breaking into someone’s home to party it up as revenge isn’t the best thing I could’ve done. Only, nobody knew we’d picked the locks, that was our secret. Knowing that my name and face was most certainly recognizable in the city, I still went ahead, got drunk, and got caught.
“Oh, come on,” she coaxes. “You’re new here, and you need to meet people. It’s at this epic mansion on the outskirts of town. A hot tub, swimming pool, even a freaking home cinema.” She sounds so excited, and I wouldn’t want to let her down.
I don’t have to go overboard. And I doubt the kids here would be anything like the ones back home. However, I’m not sure Aunt Midge would be all too happy to have me racing out to party my first weekend in town.
I shrug slowly. “I can chat with my aunt. I’m living with her while I’m here.” Not a complete lie, more of an omission. I guess a party wouldn’t hurt. But I do need more information because I know Aunt Midge will be giving me the third degree the moment I mention it. “Whose house is it?”
“One of the guys who used to attend the academy, Alistor Barrington. He’s in college now, which means hot older guys,” she tells me with a cheeky wink. “Also, he has a best friend I’m almost sure will be perfect for you.” Her grin is dazzling as she bounces on her tiptoes with excitement shining in her eyes. I know I can’t refuse because it’s all sounding too good. “I think we both need to have some fun, and everyone will want to meet you. These parties are always the talk of the school for a week after. So, what do you say? Want to join me for a bit of destructive behavior for one night?”
“Let me see what the deal is back home with my aunt. I’m not promising anything. She’s strict.” Another lie. “But I will try my best to get her to allow me freedom for one night.” I can’t tell Marleigh just why I may not be able to come out, but for now, my excuse will have to do.
“You have to come, so even if she says no, I’ll visit and tell her how imperative it is for you to be there. I mean, it’s senior year and parties are what the next few months are made for.” She seems convinced, and to be honest, since my dad died three months ago, I haven’t been able to have fun. The closed casket funeral never allowed me to say goodbye. It may seem strange, but I needed to see his face, but my mother was adamant that I couldn’t. So, instead of saying goodbye, I was left with the emptiness of never being able to see him one last time.
Each time I think about that day, I fall to pieces. Perhaps this will be a good thing.
“Sounds good,” I tell Marleigh, who’s grinning like a fool.
“That’s my girl,” she responds, hooking her arm in mine and walking up the road with me as we head farther away from school.
But with every step, I can’t stop recalling his tall, broad frame. The way his shirt seemed to tease at the strong arms underneath. His muscled legs in dark slacks and his ass that looked like you could bounce a penny off it as he moved through the class.
The memory of his perfectly manicured hands with hints of veins peeking from the tanned skin. Strong, foreboding, but ultimately sexy. But it was also his stare as he watched me whenever he didn’t think I noticed. It pierced me right through my chest.
I have a crush.
Mr. Donati is forbidden.
I shouldn’t want him.
But my mind has a life of its own.
4
HIM
THE PRESENT
He’s smiling. She looks beautiful as she sits opposite him. I hate that his eyes are on her. I don’t like it one fucking bit. But then again, if she were looking at me like that, I’m not sure I could handle it.
My mind spins with all the possibilities. I smile when I see the shiver that trickles down her body. I want nothing more than to give her that myself. To feel her silken skin as I mar her creamy flesh.
The darkness has always swirled through me. I never liked women who did what she does. Open their filthy legs for every other man including the one giving her everything she wants. The time has come for her secrets to be divulged. The shiny veneer will soon be tarnished by the truth.
It all starts with a lie.
It compounds itself. Once you tell one, you must cover up with another and another. And slowly, the more you dig yourself into that grave, the darker it becomes as you bury yourself under a mound of filth.
They rise from their seats, hands entwined, and I smile. She didn’t think I’d be here, watching, waiting. I’ve bided my time for so long that I’m vibrating with the need to finish this. It ends tonight because he’ll learn all there is to know about her.
I close my eyes and picture it, the thick yellow folder on the small welcome mat of his estate. Perhaps the maid has already retrieved it and set it on his desk. And maybe he won’t see it the moment he walks in. I pray he fucks her before that. I pray that his dick is deep inside her as he spills his seed before he learns the truth.
One last hoorah before he walks away for good.
And then I can step in. Just like I always planned.
5
Elian
I stare at my brother. We’re polar opposites. With his motorbike, bad-boy attitude, and tattoos, he looks like he belongs in a motorcycle gang. I guess his dream to become a professional tattoo artist will come to fruition, which I don’t doubt. He’ll even look the part.
“You’re acting like a teenager,” I tell Ahren. He’s an adult now, and I can’t tell him what to do, but the thought of him joining a fucking biker gang doesn’t calm me down. Perhaps I should call up some friends over in Thorne Haven. They’ll give him something to think about.
But I don’t want Ahren near Creed Haven. Perhaps I should rethink this. Even though my foster brother has a good head on his shoulders about finishing school, it’s the danger that comes with putting on a kutte and heading into the unknown that leaves me worried.
“I’m young. I want to enjoy my twenties,” he tells me confidently, shrugging into the black leather jacket I know hides his ink. When he got into college, he started getting artwork all over his body. His art is his life, and I’m thankful he has something to focus on. Losing my dad was hard on him as well. And I know it’s a topic we don’t always talk about, but I love him as if he were my blood.
“Parties aren’t the be all and end all of college. Studying is. Even though you’re acing your art classes, you have to be responsible.” I know I sound like a parent, but I can’t help it.
He turns away, looking out over the expansive garden. My home is meagre compared to some of the neighbors, yet I have a about three acres here.
“Growing up wasn’t easy for me after losing my folks. Thankfully, your dad gave me a life, a second chance, I don’t want to fuck that up, Eli,” he tells me, confidence brimming in his tone as he sips his coffee. “I hear you have a few hotties in your class this year.” He drops the query like I knew he would. I know why he’s asking, but I don’t focus on it. At least, I try not to.
“I suppose,” I respond, keeping my voice cool. “Why?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. He has a few friends in this senior class. Even though he never set foot on the grounds today, the football team is just some of the guys he hangs out with when they’re partying at his friend Alistor’s house. The asshole is richer than God, and his folks leave him alone at home so much you’d think he was an orphan.
“Alistor and I were meeting a few guys from the team,” Ahren informs me with a smirk sweeping across his expression. “One in particular did catch my eye.”
“Oh?” I act disinterested, but I’m far from it. My body is rigid because I have a feeling I know which one it is. One thing we’ve learned over the years is that my brother and I have the same taste in women.
“Sleek, honey-colored hair down to her bubble butt, nice
curves, pouty lips. And wearing the school uniform, she looked like every college boy’s wet dream and every teacher’s filthy fantasy.” He sounds far too fucking satisfied with himself because he knows he’s on touchy ground with me.
“Don’t start that bullshit.”
“Why? Are you trying to tell me you didn’t notice how her skirt kisses those thighs I know you want to spread?” His challenge is clear. Asshole. Sometimes, we fight and argue, but I love him, deeply. The only person I’ll ever offer that feeling to.
“Aren’t you late for something?” I bite out as frustration takes hold of me. Ahren chuckles, knowing he has me right where he wants me. Even though I try to school my expression, it doesn’t work.
Arabella.
When I saw her name on the roll call, excitement shot through me. But then I noticed it. There’s an air of sadness that emanates from her. I must admit, she reeled me in, and I never expected it. She doesn’t belong here, in a small town. She should be walking runways. But then again, I never planned on teaching at some rich-kid academy when I could’ve been traveling the world. But we all make our choices.
“Ahren, she’s off limits,” I bite out, but I know Ahren notices my shift in demeanor, and from the tone of my voice, it’s clear. She’s affected me. He can read me like a book, even though everyone else can’t see shit going on behind my façade.
“They’re eighteen,” Ahren tells me easily. His dark eyes land on mine. “You know, teacher-student relationships are frowned upon,” he jokes, bumping shoulders with me. Being the older one in our relationship, I’ve gotten used to his behavior at times, which can be immature. There are moments I wish he’d think about what he says.
“I’m a professional, I don’t—”
“Cut the crap, man,” he says. “You’re into her. I can see it written all over your face. Why don’t you come to a party at Alistor’s house this weekend? I’ll make sure she’s there.”
“I don’t do high school parties,” I snap, finally locking my wary gaze on my idiot brother, who looks like he’s enjoying taunting me. “And if I’m seen there, I will lose all credibility with the students.”
“This isn’t your first rollercoaster. Your first few months of teaching, you had one of those pretty girls bouncing on your dick like she was trying to ace her exam.”
“It was a mistake. I was stupid enough to break the rules.”
He grins. “Rules are meant to be broken, Eli. And most of the students already see you as an equal since you’re not ancient like some of the professors we have at college. When I was in my senior year, it was the teachers who gave us the time of day who stuck out to me, that I remember, like you. Not the old, stuck-up assholes who treated us like shit.”
“I don’t treat them like shit. But it looks like I’m preying on students if I were to party with you.” I don’t know why I’m so frustrated at Ahren. No. That’s a lie. I do know. It’s so fucking clear. I’m allowing some little girl to get the better of me. Yes, she’s beautiful, but she’s too young for me, and I’m her teacher.
“Come to the goddamned party, Eli. There’ll be a few college girls as well.” It’s tempting. A party may not be great when my students are there, but what else is there to do in this town? Most of the single women my age are looking for a ring and a white picket fence. But with Ahren, I don’t feel like I’m that much older than him, so it won’t look strange if I were to attend.
“Fine,” I sigh, turning to the garden once more. “Just don’t do anything stupid when we’re out together. I don’t need a reminder than you’re my baby brother.” This time, I taunt him. We only have a seven-year difference, him being twenty-three, but at times, it feels like we’re lifetimes apart.
“Baby?” He chuckles before grabbing his crotch. “Hardly. I’m looking forward to it, bro.” Ahren grins. “I’ll see you on the weekend. And don’t be late,” he tells me with a mock salute after he sets his empty coffee mug on the table.
I don’t want to act like a father and question him about the biker club he’s mentioned or the apprenticeship I know he has coming up, so I nod. When I was younger, I would be out at parties till the early hours of the following morning. But this is a new chapter in our lives, and my home is always open to him. Some evenings, Ahren will stay over, but I have a feeling he’s got plans tonight.
I glance at the time. It’s late, and I need to get ready for work. I make my way indoors and hope I don’t have another physical run-in with the beauty today.
Arabella.
Her name elicits thoughts I shouldn’t be having. I should be focused on revenge, but there’s more to it than that. Perhaps having her here is a gift I should enjoy.
She is bad news. Not only for my libido, but her folder had some interesting things about the little deviant. Even though she looks like a goddamned angel, she’s so far from it. And that’s the reason I can’t stop thinking about her.
Her name has brought up a myriad of emotions in me. Davenport is pure filth, even if she doesn’t realize it. I know far too much about her and her family. And even though I wanted nothing more than to watch her cry, to see her pain and bask in it, my desire far outweighs my need to hurt her.
I want the bad girl.
I want nothing more than to corrupt her even further.
My final class of the day piles in, and that’s when I finally see her for the first time today. I thought I would luck out, that she’d be off sick, or perhaps have left the goddamned school. But here she is, dressed in her uniform, which has been haunting me since the day she walked in here. The white button-up which doesn’t hide the black bra underneath cupping her ample tits. Once again, her skirt swishes against her creamy thighs, and my body responds with a jolt of approval.
“Good afternoon,” I greet them and receive a less than stellar response. “Today we’re focusing on the Roman War. Let’s talk about fighting, soldiers, and bloodshed. Who here has an opinion on why any war would start?”
My gaze tracks each uncomfortable-looking student, ignoring her. At least, trying to. But my eyes finally land on Arabella, who’s slowly lifting her hand after realizing she’s the only one to volunteer. Palm facing me, and I notice her delicate fingers, and I can’t stop imagining them wrapped around my cock.
Clearing my throat, I attempt to clear the dirty thoughts from my mind. “Yes, Arabella,” I say, tasting her name as if it were a fine wine and I were a connoisseur. I decide for a moment I enjoy the flavor of it but quickly shake the feeling away. This is fucking ridiculous.
“All wars are tragic. They’re born of hatred and anger, and of jealousy. Men feel as if revenge is something they should gain, where I feel instead of bloodshed, there are far better ways of dealing with problems,” she tells me, passion and confidence emanating from her as she speaks about something she’s clearly very interested in. “But then again, their morality had been so twisted by their anger, they don’t seem to have cared for what others thought of them.”
“So, you’re saying just because they killed without remorse and took any woman or man they wanted to bed, they are more interesting?” I challenge, hoping she’ll take the bait.
“No. Not at all. I’m saying their lack of consideration at what society would say about them makes them more human than God. Who says something is wrong when it feels right? Granted, there are many acts that are illegal and should stay that way, but many times societal taboos are unfounded or even one-sided.”
For someone so young, I can’t help but be impressed. She’s nineteen, but she speaks with such confidence it’s impressive. Her eyes are wide, locked on mine.
“In that case, you’ll each write a paper on the Roman War and what you would do put in their situation,” I tell the class, breaking my stare from the beautiful Arabella and taking each of the other students’ expressions in. “Choose one of their stories you find interesting and tell me why you think they did what they did. Or better yet, argue how you think it would be seen in our modern-day society.
”
Groans from around the class make me smile.
“And when you leave today, I’d like your assignments from yesterday,” I remind them as I settle behind my desk to continue the rest of the lesson. But each time I do face the class, it’s her gaze I capture with mine, and for a split second, I allow myself to think about the possibility of her and me.
And by the time the end of class comes, I’m filled with rage such a beautiful girl could walk in here and tempt me. I’ve always been in control of every situation I’ve encountered, but something about her makes all those scales tip in the wrong direction. It shouldn’t. It’s wrong. And I need to focus on the end game here because getting my dick wet should’ve been a bonus, not the motivation.
The moment my classroom is empty, I sit in my chair and stare out at nothing. For a long while, I enjoy the silence. Even though there are students milling around outside, laughing and joking, I revel in the silence after a long day, but also in the fact that her perfume seems to have embedded itself in my nostrils.
Ahren is right. I may be her teacher, but I can’t deny she’s beautiful, perfect even. Her skin looks as smooth as the finest silk, and my fingertips ache to touch her. Her lips are plump, a perfect bow, and her flowing, honey-colored hair that hangs to the middle of her back has me wanting to wrap it around my fists.
And then there are her curves. Those soft, luscious curves I’d love to learn every inch of with my tongue. I know I must restrain my thoughts, but in this moment, I allow myself the freedom to enjoy the desire that’s risen inside me.
Tomorrow, I’ll be back to normal.
Tonight, I’ll find my release to images of her racing through my mind.