Resistance

by Cordelia Scott

  All the glances she'd chalked up to acting suddenly played through her mind. The way Sebastian gaze roamed up her legs when she wore a short skirt; the way he stared at her lips sometimes when they spoke.

  Her body ached for him.

  At his apartment, she didn't even take the time to glance around before their lips met in a frenzy. She wasn't sure what surface she'd been pushed against, but it was hard at her back, and Sebastian was hard at her front, their bodies flush against each other. She could feel every inch of his solid muscle and she longed to touch it.

  Her hands slipped up his shirt and her fingers danced against the outlines of his muscles, a groan slipping through her lips as Sebastian took her bottom one between his teeth and bit softly.

  His length was hard through his pants, and it pushed into her stomach provocatively.

  Jasmine had known that they had chemistry, had known that there was a heat between them, but she hadn't expected him to feel quite this good. She couldn't get enough of the way her body reacted to him: her back arched off the wall she was against, yearning to be as close as possible. His kiss had her nub throbbing with the need to be touched.

  "Let's go to bed," Sebastian said, breaking their kiss and meeting her gaze. His eyes were dark with lust, and his voice raspy.

  She followed him through the apartment, so disorientated with desire that she never even took in her surroundings.

  And then they were on the bed together, undressing each other. They kicked off their pants, wanting to be skin-to-skin as quickly as possible.

  For a moment, when they were both fully naked, they took the time to marvel at each other's bodies. Sebastian ran a finger from her ankle to her neck, running over her curves and making her moan. She returned the favor, moving over powerful thigh muscles, up to his defined abs and strong shoulders.

  And then they were on each other again, legs entwined as they kissed deep and hard.

  "Fuck," she cursed, as he ran a finger over her hard nipple and it sent a shock through her.

  Her ex had never done this. The only few times they'd fucked it had been a bit of kissing, and then he was inside her and it was over in a flash.

  Sebastian cherished her body, holding her tight against him as he brought her desire to dizzying heights. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and she had to break the kiss to breathe raggedly. "Holy shit," she muttered, hips grinding against his, rolling against his hard length. "Please fuck me."

  They shared a quick, heated look and then Sebastian reached over to his bedside table and pulled out a condom. Jasmine got onto her back, legs spread unashamedly.

  She'd thought she'd be nervous, but with the way Sebastian looked at her, all she could think about was wanting him inside her.

  He put on the condom and positioned himself between her legs, tip brushing against her entrance. She looked up at him imploringly, and he did as she requested.

  It stung, at first. Sebastian was slow when he entered her, biting his lip to keep himself under control as her face gave away the pain.

  "Am I hurting you?" he asked, and he looked surprised she wasn't more experienced than this.

  "No."

  He kept going until he was to his hilt, and she took a deep breath, the pain subsiding.

  He raised an eyebrow, barely controlling his hips where he was buried completely in her wet heat.

  She nodded, barely, and he pulled out, thrusting back in, hard. Jasmine moaned loudly, reaching out for something to grasp. Her hands got to his legs and her nails dug in as Sebastian fucked her, hard. He brought her feet to his chest and hit a new position, deep inside her.

  Jasmine cried out, throwing her head back at the sudden jolt of euphoria. "Right there," she said, voice barely coherent. "Fuck, right there."

  He reached between her legs, thumb brushing against her clit as he continued to thrust into her, hitting just the spot she needed.

  It was all she took to come apart. Her back arched painfully as every muscle ached with the overwhelming pleasure of her climax. She moaned, barely forming the word fuck as she turned to mush beneath him.

  When she came down from the high, she realized Sebastian had come, too, and was lying beside her on the bed.

  Her breathing ragged, she curled into his side. "Fuck," she murmured, for the final time. "That was good."

  He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her and bringing her tightly against him. He'd already discarded the condom in his bin. "This really isn't what I was expecting when I hired a fake girlfriend."

  She hummed her agreement. "Can't say I'm complaining, though."

  "Definitely not."

  At least, she wasn't complaining yet, because he was still here, still holding her. When she got home and realized she was never going to see him again, that was when the complaints would start to come, thick and fast, and she'd have to recover from their odd kind-of-romance.

  Sebastian grabbed a remote off his bedside table and a TV at the end of his bed flickered to life. Now she wasn't too consumed with her need for him, she took in the bedroom. It wasn't messy, but it was a sparsely furnished. Just the essentials. A wardrobe, a TV, and a bed. There was no desk, or drawers, or dressing table. No bookshelves. "How long have you lived here?"

  "Not that long. I upgraded a few months ago. I'd been living in a tiny studio apartment since I got back from college."

  They put on some stand-up, and Jasmine almost hated how natural this felt. Sitting in bed, cuddling.

  She could have done this every day and been happy.

  But Sebastian didn't want that. He wanted the opposite of that, so she tried to swallow that horrid feeling of finally being at home.

  "I thought I was going to give up the apartment as soon as I got it, though," he said, bringing her away from the grim thoughts that threatened to pull her mood into the gutter.

  "How come?"

  "I lost my job at St. Joseph's at the beginning of the summer. They lost some state funding and had to cut some jobs. I was the first one in, so I was the first one to leave, too."

  "Oh." So he'd lied in their original interview, too.

  "Yeah, I haven't told my family because I didn't want to worry them, not with everything going on with my dad. But I got acceptance to another job yesterday, so I get to keep this place."

  "Oh, that's cool. Which school?"

  "St. Joseph's."

  And that was when her world came crashing down. She did everything she could not to stiffen in his arms and calm her breathing.

  Jasmine's school.

  He was going to be teaching at her school.

  The lie about her age just became a thousand times less innocent.

  He was going to have slept with one of his students.

  He was going to hate her.

  "Nice."

  She couldn't make herself say any more than that. She wanted to leave, to run as far away from this problem as humanly possible, but it wasn't going anywhere. He'd already told her he taught high school age.

  The chances of him being her teacher were so high she could barely breathe.

  She was the worst kind of person. She'd tricked him into her bed with a lie about her age. He'd have never slept with her if he'd known she was still in high school.

  But then, she also knew she'd never lay in his arms like this again. Sebastian would be Mr. Lane from this point onwards, and she tightened her grip on him.

  A sickening, selfish thought pierced her. How was she going to get over him if she had to see him every day for an entire year?

  Ten

  Jasmine

  She felt sick. They'd gone through two periods and she'd seen no sign of Sebastian. After their one night together, they hadn't spoken in a week. He was looking after his dad, and she was shoving away the guilt.

  Evie spent the day frowning at her. "Are you really okay?" she asked for the fourth time. "If you're actually sick on me I'm going to be miserable."

  Brad laughed from her other side. "I'd
be very amused, though, so..."

  Jasmine shook her head. "Really, guys, I'm fine. Just tired. I'm overworked and underpaid."

  Brad snorted. "You pour coffees for a few hours a day."

  "Can we get the lowdown on your fake boyfriend yet? You've been so secretive about the whole thing."

  Jasmine had no plans to tell her best friends that her fake boyfriend turned one-night-stand was actually a teacher here.

  "There's nothing to get a lowdown on. We had sex, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

  "That's exactly what I wanted to hear!" Evie squeaked. "So, was it good? When are you seeing him again?"

  "I'm not seeing him again." She pointedly ignored the first question, unwilling to say aloud just how amazing it really had been. She could still feel his arms around her, still taste him. "It was a one-night thing, he made that very clear, and I didn't want anything else anyway. He'd find out I lied about my age. We cut ties, nice and clean."

  She was expecting a text from him at some point when his father had passed, but if he saw her as his student before that then the chance of any form of contact was zero.

  "Oh, come on, he could forgive that. It was only three years."

  I scowled. "He's twenty-five. It puts us from four years and me having nearly graduated college to not having finished high school yet, you know that's not going to be something he just overlooks. Besides, I'm not interested. I just want to forget about it."

  Brad wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she grimaced at him even harder. "I have to say, you look like you're very much interested in him."

  They walked into history, and Jasmine knew exactly what was coming.

  Sebastian—Mr. Lane—sat behind his desk flipping through some papers and looking just as gorgeous as she remembered. His hair was still an unruly mess, stubble still giving his face the rugged look she loved so much.

  She already noticed a couple of the girls in the class giving him none-too-subtle glances and whispering behind their hands.

  Clutching the straps of her backpack, she guided Evie and Brad to a table in the back. Evie sat beside her, and Brad on the desk in front.

  "Oh wow," Evie said, peering at their new teacher. "He's hot."

  "Yeah." Jasmine really tried her best not to sound too out of it. She was staring at him, almost willing him to look up and just get it over and done with. To see her, to see that she'd lied, and to hate her. Her stomach was in knots.

  He did look up a couple of seconds later, gaze scanning the classroom until it landed on her. For a second he had no reaction, just stared, blankly, and then the anger began to sink in.

  He covered it quickly, remembering where he was, but Jasmine had seen it, and knew she'd been right.

  He hated her, and he had every right to.

  Eleven

  Sebastian

  She was here, in his classroom. A student. The girl he'd been unable to banish from his mind. He'd thought fucking her would be the way to let go, but it only made his longing more intense. He'd spent the past week forcing down the unbearable urge to call her and ask her to spend another night.

  Just one more, his subconscious had taunted.

  And now she was here.

  It took everything in him to get rid of the thundering anger that wanted to show on his face and get on with teaching the lesson.

  She'd lied to him.

  Nausea began to build. He hoped to God she was at least eighteen.

  The hour passed so slowly it hurt. By the end of the lesson, he saw Jasmine murmuring something to her friends as she lagged in packing her books away, and knew she was going to come and talk to him. He wasn't even sure he wanted an explanation.

  Nothing was going to let him forgive her.

  She'd put his job in danger, a job that he needed.

  Tears were glistening in her eyes when she came to his desk at the front of the room.

  He hated that it tugged at his heartstrings to see her upset, but the anger was still most prevalent.

  "I'm so sorry," she whispered, staying a couple of steps back from him. "I made sure to ask what school you were at before accepting the job because of this, and I never even imagined that this might happen."

  "You lied to me." His voice was emotionless, and she flinched in response to it.

  "I know, but I thought it was only a job. I never thought that we'd sleep together, or that I'd like you." His heart stuttered at the words he'd so desperately wanted to hear, but been unable to ask before her lies had come to light. "I really needed the money."

  He rested his elbows on his desk and massaged his temples. "This puts me in a really awkward situation."

  "I know it does, and I'm so, so sorry." He knew she was genuine, and yet he couldn't find it in himself to just forgive her like that, even if the sight of her shaking with guilt before him just made him want to hold her. "I don't know if there's anything I can do."

  "Just... stay away from me. That's all you can do. I don't want to hear anything about what we did ever again, and, shit," and then he almost said shit again for swearing in front of his student, "you didn't tell any of your friends, did you? They don't know?"

  "They know I was being a fake girlfriend for someone, but they don't know it's you. I wasn't planning on telling them."

  "Good. Please don't." He forced himself back upright, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, and took a deep breath. "Okay. Well. I mean, that's it. Just don't mention it to anyone, and don't... text me or anything again."

  "I won't, I promise." But she was dithering, clutching the straps of her backpack so hard her knuckles had turned white. "Only, can I just ask you one favor. I know, I barely know him, but if you could just send me a text when your dad..." She took a shuddering breath. "I'd just like to know. If you don't mind."

  A smile softened onto his face in spite of himself. "Of course I can message you. He's doing quite well still at the moment."

  Her eyebrows knitted. "Really? I mean, I guess it's no longer an option for me to come, but won't they think it's weird? I don't want your dad to feel worse again if you have to tell him we broke up—" she did air quotes around the word "—before he passes away."

  "I'll think of something. I'll tell them you went on vacation. Easy."

  "Oh, okay. Yeah, that makes sense." She shifted her weight and lifted her eyes to his for the first time since she'd approached his desk. "I know I've been a bitch, and I'm sorry. I really didn't ever think I'd be putting you in this position. I won't mention anything to anyone, I promise. And sorry again. Bye, Sebastian."

  He was sure it was the first time he'd heard his name on her lips and knew it was the last he would, too.

  She was saying goodbye to it.

  Because now he was Mr. Lane, and that was all.

  Twelve

  Jasmine

  The money had gone back and forth between their accounts nearly five times now, and Jasmine stared at it, currently sitting in hers.

  She needed to speak to him about it, but knew that going to see him was a horrible idea. He was the one that needed to approach her if it was going to be done: she'd fucked up, and she couldn't go forcing her presence on him now.

  So, she did what she'd done five times before, and sent him back the money.

  She couldn't take it from him, after lying to him and putting his career in jeopardy. Besides, it hadn't been a job. They'd fucked at the end of it. That stopped any notion of it being a job.

  She'd enjoyed it too much.

  At school the next day, Jasmine went through her classes like normal. She was doing her best not to be affected, but it was impossible.

  Seeing him there and being unable to touch him, to read the subtle anger in his face whenever he saw her, it was too much.

  She just wanted to go back to that night, where it had just been them, in bed.

  She wished she'd been a bitch and slept with him again now, instead of just lying, cuddling with him all night. She should have fucked him, and t
hen called him up the next day and they should have fucked as much as humanly possible before this bombshell was dropped.

  She shook her head, hating herself.

  She was so unbelievably selfish.

  She'd fucked up, and no one owed her anything.

  But she was so miserable, every time she saw him.

  She missed what their fake relationship had been.

  "Jasmine, could you just wait behind, please?" Sebastian asked after the bell rang and people started packing away.

  Evie raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't think I've ever seen you asked to stay behind. You're such a goody-two-shoes."

  She rolled her eyes. "He's probably just congratulating me in person for getting one hundred percent on my last essay," she joked.

  Evie nudged her shoulder and said she'd see her in the cafeteria. Jasmine was relieved she'd bought it that easily. Because, really, there wasn't any reason she'd need to stay behind, and Sebastian knew it. He should have been more careful.

  "What's up?" she asked, approaching his desk with a wary step.

  "The money is yours. Keep it."

  "I can't keep it, you know that. It's wrong. I lied to you, and you know, by the end it wasn't really a job. I'd rather you kept the money."

  "You said you needed it."

  She flushed. "True, but I need to feel like less of an asshole than I already do more. I really want you to keep the money."

  He ran a hand through his curly locks, and she wished hers could follow it. That she could climb into his lap right now.

  And then the stab of guilt came, because he was still glaring at her. He just wanted her to have the money and be done with it so that they could part ways for good.

  She sighed and clung onto the straps on her backpack. "I'll take half the money and we can call it quits." That still seemed like an unreasonable sum considering what had happened, but if it would make him feel better, then she'd take it.

  He weighed it up for a few seconds, before nodding. "Okay."

  A heavy silence hung in the air, and Jasmine would have given anything to know what he thought about her. Whether he was still facing the same battle with her feelings.