"Grab your things. Let's go," he spits out. The anger in his tone is scary enough for me to ignore what just happened between us and follow his instructions. I grab my book and the rest of my items and walk out of his small townhouse and into the passenger seat of his car.
I wait inside the dark car for a minute or two, the only light coming from his porch. The driver side door eventually opens and Landon slides in. We peel out of his driveway and he's speeding away from his subdivision, racing to get me home. The short drive is silent, Landon's anger evident, but I can still feel the sparks of sexual energy between us. Landon almost gave in tonight. I have him so close to admitting his attraction and I just need another night to go like tonight did. He won't be able to resist again and he'll give in to temptation and sleep with me.
Having sex with Mr. Tucker is no longer about the bet or finally losing my V-card. It's something more, and much, much deeper than a superficial attraction. I've finally begun to form a connection with someone and I can't help that he's my older history teacher. I'm falling for him, falling hard, and I think he feels the same way about me. He's just scared to admit it.
I need to prove to him I'm worth the risk and that I can keep my mouth shut. He's been tutoring me for weeks now and no one knows. I haven't told anyone. What makes him think sleeping with him would be any different?
I'll give up anything to be with him, to share that connection with him. So I've got to work harder. I've got to figure out how to get Mr. Tucker on board.
When we pull up to my ranch, the lights are off inside, leaving the glow of the moon and the pitch-black night my only guide inside. My mother's never worried when I don't come home on time and no one stays up for me. I'm waiting for Landon to comment on this but he doesn't. He doesn't even look my way once we're parked in my driveway so I open the door and climb out, slamming the door behind me.
If he wants to be an asshole and ignore me then I'm going to make it my mission to be an even bigger asshole.
Chapter Two
My job at the GG-mart gas station doesn't come with many perks but there is one thing I enjoy–being able to wear jeans and a t-shirt instead of the dressier clothes I wear to school to fit in with my group of friends. Skirts and dresses aren't really my thing but Jo Lynne, Anna Belle, and even sometimes Addison are adamant I dress to fit in, which is why they like to give me their hand-me-downs. It's like we're all in some silent competition on who can be the best southern belle.
The minute I arrived at work today I slipped into a stall in the public bathroom and pulled my tight skinny jeans and low cut fitted gray t-shirt out of my backpack and got dressed for work. The GG-mart doesn't have a dress code, but I get dirty filling up people's gas tanks, cleaning their windows, and topping off their oil so jeans and a t-shirt work best. I do have to wear a black vest with my name on it so customers know I work here, but it's not too bad.
There is one other thing that sucks about working here. I work on various makes and models of vehicles but I don't have a car. Ironic, right? The girl who works with cars doesn't have a car of her own.
It's been slow this afternoon so I've stocked the coolers with fresh bottles of soda, flavored water, and alcohol, and then stacked the empty crates next to the back door so Dylan can give them back to the delivery driver when he comes with more products in two days.
"Savannah, can you come here for a second," Dylan calls me from the front register. If he's calling me that means he's bored, too, and the rest of the day is going to drag on. I make my way up to the register and sit down on the counter, turning my body to face him as my legs hang over the edge.
"What's up?"
"How was the first day of your senior year?"
Dylan and I never talk about our lives. We usually just shoot the shit about the closed-minded people in this town, or who won the NBA basketball game the night before. While football is the beloved sport of the locals, I love basketball. I love to watch it and when I have a chance I love to play. During the basketball lesson in gym is the only time I get an A for participation.
"You're asking me about school, Dylan?" Tilting my head, I let my hair fall to one side and ask, "What is it you really want?"
His eyes narrow and he smiles wickedly at me. "How old are you again? Sometimes I can't remember."
"Seventeen."
"And you'll be eighteen...when?" The large palm of his hand lands on my knee and stays there.
"December." Arching my back I lean over towards him and his eyes dart down to my cleavage that's on display thanks to my push-up bra and low cut t-shirt. "Why are you concerned about my age all of a sudden? You're not interested in me, are you, Dylan?"
His hand tightens on my knee and then he takes a step back, although it's clear he doesn't want to. "No, just curious. We're slow and I realized I know very little about you." He drags a hand through his dirty blond hair and I can tell he's frustrated.
The bell rings, informing us a car has just tripped the station bell and I need to get my ass out there and see what the driver needs. Deciding to tease Dylan a little I slide down off the counter and take a step towards him so my chest brushes against his. "That's too bad. I thought maybe..." I trail off and bite down on my bottom lip provocatively. "Never mind."
Walking past him I shake my ass with each step, glad to be blessed with curves because I know Dylan's watching the humps of my backside jiggle as I walk out the GG-mart door. I may not be desperate enough to sleep with him yet, but if December comes around and I'm still a virgin, I'll need him to still want me so I have options.
I approach the white Prius with sharp rims and black tinted windows and wait for the driver to roll down the window or step out. I've never seen this car at the station before. We don't get a lot of people passing through town so I'm familiar with almost every car we see. I'm used to servicing clunkers or BMWs. Eco-friendly cars are not usually seen around here. Standing near the driver side door I wait as the door opens and out steps a gorgeous, well-dressed, confident man.
It's my new history teacher.
Dammit! I find myself wishing I had kept my dress on to showcase my scandalous curves but there was no way I could have known he was coming here. Oh well, I'll have to work with what I have on now. I know I haven't got a chance in hell with my teacher but it's fun to still try.
The things I do to entertain myself.
You see, I know I have a lot more to offer a guy than my looks, but the only thing to do in a town like this is work, drink, and have sex. Sex is something that I'm still waiting to dabble in. I need to step up my seducing game and why not start with practicing my flirting skill.
Mr. Tucker is even more delicious outside of class. It's really not fair because my normally slightly hormonal body goes into overdrive when I see him. The amount of improper thoughts that race through my mind are enough for me to want to run somewhere and find a cold shower to cool off in, or a lake to jump in. Mr. Tucker's lost the vest he wore in class and his burgundy and gray check modern fit dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves and the top two buttons near the collar are unbuttoned.
The fitted shirt doesn't leave a lot to the imagination. It's obvious he's fit. I want to run my hands up his chest and start unbuttoning the remaining buttons until I'm able to stare at his bare chest and allow his muscles to be my aphrodisiac. I sound like a horny teenage boy right now but I guess girls can be just as naughty.
My attraction to Mr. Tucker startles me since no man has ever caused this reaction from me before. Sure, I've been hard up for it plenty of times and Chett was always enough to satisfy my teenage hormones, but just a few seconds in front of my new history teacher and the animal inside me wants to be uncaged.
"Hey. You're in my last period history class, right?"
His words startle me and I look up from his chest that I'd like to rub my hands all over and into his deep grayish-blue eyes. He's no longer wearing his glasses and the hint of purple in his irises stands out more in the sun. "Um...yes. I sit next
to your cousin, Chett. I'm Savannah."
"Hello, Savannah." My name rolls off his tongue and I want to ask him to say it again because it's never sounded quite as nice as it does when he says it. "So you work here after school? I wasn't aware the kids in this town knew what it was like to have a job."
He's looking right at me as he talks, never breaking eye contact. His breath smells like coffee and mint and it's immediately my new favorite smell. The intensity in his gaze has the inside of my stomach doing back flips. It makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Like he already sees too much.
"Well, I'm not one of the fortunate ones." I smile up at Mr. Tucker as I try to convince myself I can have a casual conversation with him. "I live just outside of town with my mother and aunt in a run-down ranch. I have to work here twenty-five hours a week to help out with the expenses." I'm not sure why I just told him all that, especially because I want to impress him, not turn him away because of my circumstances. He's Chett's cousin so he must come from family money just like Chett.
He tilts his head slightly to the side as he gazes at me with concern. "But you're a student. That many hours must not leave a lot of time for schoolwork."
Shrugging my shoulders I look back over at his car as I reply, "I get by." I'm ready to change the subject so it's not about me anymore. "What can I help you with today? Do you need a fill-up or something more?"
"Just a fill-up. My tank's on E and this was the first place I found in town."
Walking over to the other side of his car I notice the door to the gas tank is already open and I start the process of filling up his tank. "We're the only place in town but the next town over has three gas stations including one attached to the big superstore."
While Mr. Tucker’s tank fills up I wet the window squeegee and start to clean his windows.
"You don't need to do that, Savannah." He sounds sincere and it makes the little crush I've developed over the last few hours begin to blossom.
"It's my job, Mr. Tucker. Don't worry." He must feel awkward having a student wait on him but I don't mind at all. At some point over the years I've waited on every teacher and student at my school. Hell, I've filled up the tanks of every person in this town who owns a car. Plus, during the minutes it takes to fill his tank, I'm able to watch him discreetly and appreciate his perfect physique.
Mr. Tucker takes care of himself.
I'd like to take care of him.
His arms are strong and muscular and I'm imagining what it would feel like if he stripped me naked and lifted me up and over his shoulders right now so he could spread my lips with his fingers and eat my pussy. I can tell his chest is solid by the small amount of definition I can see through his dress shirt. His jeans are fitted, showcasing his tight ass and large, muscular quads. His body is flawless and I want to watch each of his muscles flex as he thrusts inside of me and pops my cherry.
Whoa, wait. Where did that thought come from?
All right, libido, you need to slow down.
I've stopped cleaning his windows and I don't hear the click of the gas pump as it stops filling his tank because I'm too focused on the thoughts that just raced through my brain. I was imagining Mr. Tucker as the man who took my virginity–a scenario that is impossible and illegal.
"Savannah," Mr. Tucker calls out and I turn to look over at him on the other side of the car and see what he needs. His hands are behind his head, cupping the back of his neck and he's peering over at me under his eyelashes. "Is everything all right?"
Pushing my lustful daydreams away I shake my head, my long brown hair falling loosely over my shoulders. "You don't have to stay out here. Most customers never leave the car."
He smiles in return and replies with a cocky grin, "I'm not most customers."
The purr of his voice causes a nervous rumbling in my stomach. I continue to stare at him and he winks at me before appeasing me and opening the driver side door. He sits back down behind the wheel and I finish up with his car. When I approach his window I read off his total to him before he hands me his credit card. After going inside and swiping his card to complete the purchase, I saunter back outside to hand him his card and the receipt.
"Here you go, Mr. Tucker." I lean into the driver side window, my perky cleavage on full display and I wonder if he can tell my heart is racing under my heavy breasts. I don't miss the brief second his eyes dart down to take in the swells of my tits. Something about him sneaking a peek temporarily satisfies the hungry animal inside me who suddenly wants Mr. Tucker–a complete stranger to me–to be my first.
There's no denying how incredibly gorgeous he is. Every girl in school has noticed. I wonder what he does when he's not in school? Is he boring, spending every school night tucked inside his home grading papers and watching primetime TV? Or does he act more like a regular twenty-something man and goes out looking to get laid?
If he's looking to get laid, the twenty-something women that hang around here will be happier than pigs in shit. He's fresh meat–gorgeous, fresh meat.
After taking the card out of my hand he slips me a bill and asks, "What's your last name, Savannah?"
"It's Simple."
Shaking his head he replies, "It may be simple but I'd still like to know what it is."
I laugh to myself because this is the typical response I get the first time someone hears it. "No, my last name is Simple. I'm Savannah Simple."
"Oh." He chuckles to himself and then turns the engine of the car back on. "Well, Savannah Simple, I'm glad I got to meet you and know a little bit about you before our one-on-one meeting in class. I hope you know you can come to me anytime if you're having problems in class, or are struggling with any areas in school. It must be hard juggling your job here and the work you're assigned at school."
His voice comes out deep and husky, causing my nipples to harden under the cups of my bra. The scent of his cologne drifts between the small space between us and is enough to make me want to sniff him like a dog in heat. I need to get away from him before I embarrass myself. "I appreciate that, Mr. Tucker, but I'm just looking to get by with enough credits to graduate."
Stepping back from his vehicle I smile and say, "Thanks for the tip." Turning around I walk back into the GG-mart as quickly as possible. When I look down at the bill in my hand Andrew Jackson is staring up at me. I usually only get a Washington for a tip, two if I've been out there for a long time. Mr. Tucker's given me the largest tip I've ever received at the GG-mart and instead of being grateful that someone sees that I deserve that money, I feel undeserving. I was only out there for five minutes. The large tip is forcing me to find ways to thank him.
Like with my lips wrapped around his dick.
Chapter Three
I watch as the hands on the clocks slowly tick by in each class, anxious to get to last period with Mr. Tucker. Since seeing him after school I haven't been able to get him off my mind. Part of me was almost convinced I imagined him up until I heard the other girls talking about him in the halls of school today and then I knew I didn't conjure him up. Mr. Tucker is real and making it harder than normal for me to concentrate.
Is it normal for a woman to have sexual fantasies about her teacher when she's never had sex before? I don't know, but I do know I woke up this morning sexually frustrated after dreaming of Mr. Tucker filling my tank with his hose and pumping me with his fluid. I was just about to climax from my fantasy when I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock blaring as the sun began to rise outside my small bedroom window. Frustrated and horny I got myself off with my clitoral vibrator–a vibrator that took me a month and a half to save up for last year. Most of the money I make at work goes to the bills and the small amount of money I have left over each week isn't much and usually goes to put minutes on my cell phone.
My vibrator was worth every penny.
I came hard this morning from the slow vibrations, fantasizing I was coming all over Mr. Tucker's face.
After the bell I make my way over to my locker to grab my
history book so I can get into history class as soon as possible. I don't want to miss a single second of my time with Mr. Tucker.
"Why did you blow Chett off last night?" Anna Belle asks from beside me. I have such a one-track mind right now that I didn't even hear her approach my locker.
"From what I heard he's pissed off because she didn't blow him," Addison chimes in with a giggle as we start to form our normal group huddle after each class. Normally I'd be down to gabbing during each five minute passing period but not today. Today I am on a mission so I try to nip this topic in the bud.
"That fuckwad is running his mouth?" I ask. It doesn't really surprise me but I'm suddenly annoyed at him presuming something was going to happen between us last night. "I never asked him to pick me up from the GG-mart. It's not my problem that he was expecting a happy ending just because he gave me a ride home. I may be poor but I'm not a cheap whore."
Slamming my locker shut I turn and am ready to walk to history when Addison stops me. "Yeah, but don't you two normally fool around whenever you're together? It's not like he was expecting something you've never done before. I thought you liked giving head."
I turn back to face her. "Just because I like something and have done it in the past does not mean I'll continue to do it in the future. Each time is a new time and should be treated that way. He should never expect me to take care of him in that way. If and when it happens he should be grateful a woman is willing to go down on his stinky dick. As for the future, he needs to forget I ever sucked him off in the past because it's never happening again."
"Savannah, Chett would have been the perfect guy to give your flower to. You want the nomination for queen, remember? If you're not going to screw Chett then you need to set your eyes on someone else to give it up to so you're not left in the wings while the rest of us stand up in prom court."
It's so annoying when she's right. I do need to find someone to give it up to and two days ago I didn't even care who I'd be riding on my journey to prom royalty. I just wanted him to be mature and experienced enough to make it enjoyable for me. Meeting Mr. Tucker has changed my expectations. He's sexy, mature, and sophisticated, and after last night he's the current star of my wet dreams. I don't know how I'm going to make it happen, but I definitely can only imagine one man to give my "flower" to and that's Mr. Tucker.
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