by Mia Allen
I had him pegged. He was the domineering type and everyone had to bow to him.
“Don’t try me, Ms. Lily.” His sleeve stretched as he pulled his wrist to check the time on his watch. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to remind you who is the boss.”
I snorted with an air of derision. “Are you even old enough to be a teacher?” He looked to be in his early twenties.
His gaze bore into me, trying to bend me my existence to his will.
I stared back, defiantly. I wouldn’t cower to him. Nor bend to his will.
He broke the heated stare down. “Old enough,” he murmured. That murmur tingled down my spine. That murmur promised retribution.
The thought excited me more than it should before I shook my head.
He decided to start the class lesson while I sat there on my phone. The class settled into the daily lesson about triangles and I continued to play on my phone, uncaring of what was going on around me.
About fifteen minutes in, my phone was snatched out of my hand.
“Hey!”
“You aren’t taking notes.” He tapped one long finger against the notebook I had placed just for ceremony.
“I don’t need to.” I gritted my teeth. All the teachers had left me to my devices after my father died. In sympathy and pity.
Mr. Carter never seemed to have gotten that memo.
“I don’t tolerate childish behavior,” he stated. He glanced at the phone in his hand. “Candy Crush is more important than passing?” He raised one eyebrow.
I laughed, derisively, folding my arms across my chest. “I don’t just pass. I have the highest grade in the class.” I stated, arrogantly, locking eyes with him.
I was fucking smart.
“You may have. But you have yet to take my test and quizzes. Don’t be so overly confident. And since you deemed my lesson as easy, I’m simply going to have to make them harder for everyone.” He pocketed my phone and walked away.
Groans ensued from the class. The students grumbled around me, shooting me nasty glares.
I shrugged. I wasn’t speaking hyperbole. The math was too fucking easy.
The substitute spoon fed them every answer.
We’re taking calculus, not freshman algebra. It was supposed to be challenging.
Chapter 3
After class, I went up to the front of the class to grab my phone. Mr. Carter was erasing the whiteboard. During class, he took his suit jacket off and his bulging biceps would distract me whenever he exerted them.
Like now. I could keep staring at him.
I stood there silently waiting for him to notice me. He took his time to acknowledge me—erasing the whiteboard, packing his markers and eraser into his briefcase, and shuffling all the papers in a single file.
Finally, a few minutes later, he walked around the desk to where I was standing, stopping a couple of inches before and leaned back on the desk.
The air between us was charged and electric.
The thrill of sparring with him excited me.
I was confused with the visceral reaction my traitorous body was experiencing for the first time.
My nipples poked through my thin bra. Stubbornly, I blamed the cold draft coming in from the window.
In response, his eyes flicked down to my chest before raising his eyes back to mine. I shook my head, unsure of what was happening.
We were in a stare down. I was intensely aware of his bare forearms when he pulled up the sleeves of his shirt.
I broke the stare, pushing my palm out, silently. He knew what I wanted.
He looked at my outstretched hand and raised his eyebrows.
Mr. Carted was going to have me break the silence.
“I need my phone.”
He smirked. “You will not get it until the end of the day.”
“What? Why?” I sputtered.”That’s insane.”
“I will not be challenged. And to answer your earlier question, I’m twenty-five.”
“You can’t just take my phone. It’s not yours.”
“Tell you what. Apologize and I’ll give it.”
“No.” I glared at him.
“Okay, then.” He straightened and turned halfway to grab his briefcase.
I sighed and closed my eyes. “Fine. Sorry.”
What can I say? I couldn’t live without my phone.
He flashed a smile at my quick capitulation. “See. That wasn’t so hard. This is the start of a great relationship.” He pulled my phone out of his pocket and passed it to me. “And I wanted to take this opportunity and build on that relationship. I’m sorry about your dad. Life is cruel and you didn’t need to bear that at such a young age.” His voice was contrite and his eyes were sympathizing.
He was truly sorry as far as I could tell. Too bad he didn’t know that I hated sympathy. It’s the reason why I haven’t let anyone console or come up to me. I’ve built a wall around me that screamed fuck off.
I walked away. “It’s the start of the worst relationship of your life.” I threw back over my shoulders.
He seemed to understand that I didn’t want sympathy, pity or be coddled. I wanted it as I gave it to people. Straight.
“Okay, then. Glad we got that out of the way. The next time you disrespect me in front of the class and try to undermine me, I won’t be as kind and forgiving.”
“Okay, Mr. Carter.” I said in a sing-song voice over my shoulders as I continued to give him my back. This wasn’t the last of what he was going to hear of me. He was in for a rude-awakening.
My steps faltered. I swore I heard him say ‘fuck me’ when he got a look at my ass.
He was my teacher.
I was his student.
I had to have imagined that.
The charged air surrounding us when we were in the same room meant nothing.
It couldn’t.
Chapter 4
Kate and I were settled in my bedroom watching TV, scrolling mindlessly through the channels when she suddenly bursts with, “I think I’m going to break up with Simon.”
I gasped in horror, “What? Why? You guys are sickeningly and sweetly in love”
“Exactly! We are sickeningly sweet. I want passion, drama and I-I don’t know!” she stuttered. “I want someone that needs me like water and oxygen.”
“That love is only found in movies and books. It isn’t real, Kate.”
“It’s possible. Zack and I have that,” she said softly.
I fumbled. “No, Kate. Tell me you didn’t cheat on Simon.” Sweet Simon who worshipped the ground she walked on. He loved Kate as much as an eighteen-year-old could. We had become a threesome, Simon becoming a great friend to me.
Kate glanced towards the window, not answering me. It was fleeting, but I saw the guilt shining in her eyes.
My mind is racing because cheating was something I didn’t think Kate could do. She would rather break it off than cheat.
She answered after a few minutes. “It happened one time. The sex was great. Passionate. Clingy. It was raw fucking,” she explained.
“But like everything else, that will fade to mutual attraction and like for each other,” I said gently, trying to sway her decision. Kate was a hopeless believer in sparks flying, chemistry sizzling. “You’ve seen it firsthand hand with my parents.”
My parents had a love marriage. It was great for the first couple of years until it fizzled into nothing. Dad kept trying to regain that connection, that spark. But my mother had become bitter after years living in his shadow, following a man and giving up her career. She grew bored and restless. But my dad never stopped trying.
Until he died.
I lived alone.
I was only seventeen—about to turn eighteen—when child services learned of my case. I begged to be able to continue to live on my own. I was going to turn eighteen by the time I graduated. The mortgage was already paid off. And my dad’s life insurance policy would cover my college expenses.
I was pragmatic. I believ
ed in mutual respect, kinship and adoration, but passionate, crazy love didn’t exist in my world. It fizzled into a shell of what it used to be.
“You don’t understand, Lily. You may be right but I want to find that out for myself. I want to get hurt. I want to fight. Simon and I never fight. We’re comfortable with each other. Fuck comfortable.” Kate stared off into space.
I studied her resolve. I thought back to that charged energy I felt with Mr. Carter. That single encounter with him was more heightened experience I had, more so than any other boy.
That connection was elusive and to think that I had found it with my math teacher was weird. The same math teacher who was there because my dad was cruelly taken away from me way too early.
Life was so fucking unfair and it didn’t even give a shit. It threw shit at you and you had to take it whether you chose to or not.
I didn’t choose Mr. Carter and that spark but I’ll be damned if I didn’t fight back.
Chapter 5
“A moment, Ms. Lily.” My wrist was gripped tightly in a steely hand. Leaving me no choice but to stay back with Mr. Carter.
We went at it again in class, arguing. He kept picking on me thinking I couldn’t answer the questions. I answered every single one. He forgot I was the daughter of a math teacher. Math was my favorite subject. I took everything he dished.
But that didn’t mean I liked being called upon.
So I became a smart ass. And rude.
Every time he got in my face our breaths turned heavy and our eyes smoldered.
“Hurry up, I have English next.” I narrowed my eyes at him. I had free period after this but he didn’t need to know that.
“I’ll take my time.” His voice was firm and resolute. He was sorely pissed and full of pent up frustration and caged energy.
He was going to unleash it on me.
I couldn’t help the involuntary shiver.
He let go of my arm and went to lock the door.
“Why are you locking the door?”
“To ensure we are not disturbed when I discipline you.”
“And what’s the worst you can do? Detention?” I said sarcastically.
“No, trust me, I can do worse. This is the third class where we’ve wasted precious class time arguing.” He grabbed my hands, maneuvering them on the edge of the desk flat so I was slightly bent from the waist. My ass was sticking out.
In the back of my mind, I knew we had crossed over the inappropriate lines and boundaries were being crossed.
Boundaries were already crossed when he engaged with me in class. He could have easily ignored me or sent me to detention.
But he didn’t. I got the feeling that he enjoyed it.
We were both in too far to retreat from the challenge of outdoing each other. Both of our prides were too big to back down.
He was standing behind me when he reached over, his body pressed against mine, to pull the ruler sticking out of his briefcase.
That touch seared across my whole back, raising an awareness new to me. I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Reflexively, I tried to stand and his hand was at my holding me down.
“Stay like that,” he demanded.
“This is inappropriate.” I tried, feebly, as a last line of defense to pull us back from the rabbit hole we were falling down into. But I wasn’t so sure if I wanted to be pulled back.
I wanted to fall down the rabbit hole. With him.
I like the control leaving me. Liked the decision leaving my mind. All I focused on was my position as Mr. Carter breath whooshed over my neck, raising the tiny hairs on my neck in pricked awareness.
“Ah,” I gasped as the ruler struck down my ass in quick successions of three.
He spanked me. He was spanking me.
My pussy clenched and I closed my legs trying to quench the need.
I heard Mr. Carter heavy breaths. I was affecting him. And he was, me.
I bent lower, pushing my ass further out, resting my chest on the desk as he rained the ruler upon my ass. At this, Mr. Carter put one of his hand flat on my back forcing my hands to give out and lay me halfway across the desk.
The ruler lashes stopped suddenly. I waited in bated breath for what was to come. My being concentrated in that moment. All the thoughts and stress leaving me. My being was consumed on what was to come.
He placed the ruler on the desk and his hands kneaded and massaged my sore butt cheeks, softening the sting of the ruler.
My eyes drifting close.
“There,” he whispered.
He grasped my arm to pull me up. I lazily followed his lead. My eyes sleepy, face flushed and delirious from the heady sensations pulsating through my body.
He tilted my chin up with the ruler, making me gaze into his hazel eyes.
“Next time, remember this when you question me in front of the class. Understood, Ms. Lily?”
“Understood.”
With the corner of his lips upturned, “You’re dismissed,” he said.
He grabbed his belongings—briefcase and coat—and exited the classroom.
“See you tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
Leaving me gaping after him
I thought—I thought—I don’t know what I thought. I thought he would help with the pulsation that was taking over my body.
Instead he left.
Jackass, I fumed.
Chapter 6
The following day, I walked into Mr. Carter’s class with trepidation and clammy hands. I proceeded to stare at the tiled floor as I headed to my seat. Trying to potentially avoid any encounter.
I gave a huge sigh of relief as I reached my seat, two more steps left—the end so close.
“Ms. Lily.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
After a deep breath, I turned toward him, waiting.
Mr. Carter stood a couple feet away from me, dressed in a charcoal suit and black tie with one hand tucked away in his pocket. He insisted upon wearing suits when most of the teachers wore business casual.
That insistence paid off in every female student’s dreams and gushing giggles. He looked so sexy and sophisticated that the suits should be banned.
I hated that I could feel that electrifying thread between us and I wanted to snap the thread. I shouldn’t have this reaction towards him.
Mr. Carter cleared his throat.
Unbeknownst to us, we stood across each other, staring at the other, our eyes searching for a clue to the puzzling connection between us.
He nodded his chin towards an empty desk placed in front of his desk, situating me in direct view of him. “That’s your newly assigned seat.”
I glanced over to the seat he gestured to and then the gazed around the students who were staring with rapt attention as if this was their daily soap opera.
Everyone was sitting in their same respective seats. The only seat that had changed was mine.
I mulled over my options. Two seconds later, I decisively walked toward my seat at the back of the class.
I didn’t know the reason but the idea of threatening the sleeping dragon—that I’ve seen shades of, lurking under his suits—excited me. Thrilled me.
Because the few times he roared his fire, it warmed and settled between my bones. I loved the feeling which I haven’t felt in a while. It was a high I craved.
He was a high I, so desperately, craved.
I didn’t need to know the theory of quantum physics to decipher that he was gnashing his teeth together in frustration of my defiance towards him and his commands.
I loved the thrill of what was to come after class.
I was single handedly singled-out to receive a dressing down. Just the thought of it shot a tingles down my spine that I shuddered.
If I was lucky it would be with a ruler.
After that first incident, Mr. Carter had expected me to cry, balk and or report him to the principal going by his attitude the following day.
But I never cried or reported him.
&n
bsp; I clashed with Mr. Carter again that class.
And again and again each class
I was held back again afterwards.
And punished.
Deliciously.
Each time, the punishment escalated to forbidden, taboo touches.
Each time, we were left panting for more but held back.
I was jostled back from my musings when a kid hollered at my bold defiance.
I sat down in my old seat and folded my hands on top of the desk. And waited for the lesson to start.
Mr. Carter wasn’t surprised going by the quirk of his mouth. His eyes glimmered, roaming over my face. Sometimes I wondered if he purposely roused me to get a reaction and forced to deliver a punishment later.
Everyone waited with a bated breath to see what would Mr. Carter would do next.
After studying me for a few seconds, he strode over to where I was seated.
“You leave me with no other choice,” he said, before bending down and lifting the whole desk with me, effortlessly.
“Gah,” I yelled as my feet left the ground. I thrashed my legs, careful not to fall down, trying to kick him. I grabbed his tie and tried to pull him down.
But the man was unmovable as a mountain. He just stared ahead and strode down the aisle. The motherfucker had lifted the desk with me still sitting and set me down to his designated seat.
“Do the practice unit three test and if it’s not completed when I’m done, I’ll bury all of you in so much extra assignments that you guys won’t be able to see over it,” Mr. Carter threatened the class, distracting their attention away from us.
The kids groaned and I heard the rustled movements and textbooks scraping across the desks and whispers.
He crowded me, crouching over the back of me. Our cheeks almost pressed together but not quite.
The top two buttons of my shirt was purposely unbuttoned. To defy the rules.
But, now as he stood over me, I wish I hadn’t unbuttoned it. He had a clear view of my breast peeking out of my bra. I could his heated gaze there and, in response, my skin was flushed.