Teacher's Pet - The Complete Series: Books 1-4

by Avery Phillips

  “What are you doing here, Katelyn?” If I sounded hostile it was because I was tense. I knew what this woman could do to me.

  She placed her right hand on her hip. “Humph, now is that any way to greet your long-lost love? And here I was thinking you’d be happy to see me. I guess I have to be careful what I assume.”

  “You were never lost, and definitely not for long. I knew exactly where you were. My mother updated me every chance she got. Where you were, what you were up to, any promotions you’ve earned. It’s like you never left. Believe me, I was informed.”

  “Aw, isn’t Mom precious. She’s always so concerned about her daughter-in-law’s wellbeing. I’ll call her once I leave here—that is, if I still have the energy.”

  I shot her a sideways glance. “Is that how you found me? She told you where I lived?”

  “Of course she did, handsome. I’m good, but I’m not that good. If I just showed up unannounced at your door by any information I gathered on my own, that would make me a bona fide stalker, and you know I’m not the type to do that sort of thing.” She batted her lashes at me rapidly.

  Cute.

  “No, of course you’re not the type.” My words were laced with sarcasm. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure, counselor? I’m not in any legal trouble. Am I?”

  “Well, it has come to my attention…” Katelyn sauntered toward me; she raised her hands to her coat, pinching open one button at a time. “… that a certain handsome man with incredibly alluring eyes and rock-hard bod found himself in a social predicament and now he needs a date to the white party.”

  Katelyn pinched the last button on her coat. It fell open to her sides. She pulled the opening back until it rested on her hips, baring the ample, tear-drop-shaped fullness of her breasts. My eyes followed the curves of her waist to her thighs. She had on a pair of high-cut red lace panties, the same fire red as her shoes.

  She pressed her breasts against my chest and bent to whisper in my ear. “You see, this man I’ve heard about needs my help something awful, at least from what I’m told. So if you happen to know who he is…” She nibbled on my ear. “… and if you could be so kind…” She ran her lips along my jaw line. “… direct me to him. I’d like to put in my bid for the job.”

  My cock was stiff to the point to where it throbbed. The longer she whispered in my ear the more it ached; my head brushed the material of my boxers.

  “Mmm.” She stroked along the bulge in my jeans. “Someone’s happy to see me.”

  I put space in between us, pushing my hands against her shoulders. Not hard, but just enough to back her up. Katelyn stepped forward, determined. “Come on, handsome. You know how we used to play. Hot…” She kissed my chest… “… fevered…” She unfastened on my jeans. “… and hard!” She reached in my boxers and wrapped her fingers around my shaft. The first stroke sent me over the top. She played with the dew on my tip.

  I forced her to my workbench until the small of her back hit the wood. It was harder than a tap, enough to make her smile. Katelyn liked it rough, almost violent. So I didn’t have to worry about whether I was going too far with her. Not many things were off limits: blindfolds, bondage, role-playing, toys. Katelyn was up to try anything once. It was what I liked about her back in school.

  She let her coat drop to the floor without concern for the oil and dirt. Her nipples were aroused, perky and knuckle hard; my mouth watered from thinking of putting them between my teeth and closing around them softly with my lips.

  She pulled at my pants, making my zipper rip apart until it had nowhere else to go. Katelyn was always aggressive, an A-type personality. Fucking to her was animalistic, lustful, gladiators fighting for ground. Push and be pushed until you’re exhausted.

  It’d been a while for me, so I was ready. I kissed her mouth, deeply and carnally; heard her moan several times in my mouth. The pads of my fingers slipped in behind her panties, stroking her clit until she shook out of control.

  I took a hold of her panties, ripped them and threw them off to the side. Her head swooned back, showing the length of her neck. I reached behind her, cleared the bench with my arm, lifted her by the ass and sat her on it. I followed on top of her and slipped between her legs, my rounded tip resting just before her opening.

  “I want you to fuck me, Simon,” she growled. “Fuck me like you haven’t seen me in years. Fuck me like… like you still love me.”

  I stopped. My stomach sank, but my cock was still hard. I didn’t love this woman. She knew I didn’t love her. And she knew I never did, so what was she doing? What was I doing, for that matter? She was lying on my workbench with her legs spread apart, eager to let me fuck her after not seeing each other for years.

  “Look at me.” She grabbed me by the chin and turned my head toward her. “This is my invitation. I’m giving myself to you, something I’ve never done before. Something I didn’t know how to do before. I’m yours if you want me. Right here, right now, and after this night you can do what you want. I can leave if you want or I can stay here and take care of you. It’s your choice, Simon. This is your invitation to wipe the slate clean. No games. No funny business. I’m ready to take the plunge if you are.”

  I thought about what she said. I was so tired of the games; so tired of the urge to hold back my true feelings, the lies, deceit and betrayal. If she meant what she said, the path was clear. Katelyn was here with sincerity. She asked me to take the plunge once and for all, so I did and sank myself inside her.

  Lesson # 10

  Temptation is ever present

  “Have a margarita and I promise we can get down to discussing what you want to know afterwards.” -Dane Foster

  Lynn

  When I arrived at Abuelo’s, I noticed it was pretty busy. A live mariachi band was playing on stage, working the place into a frenzy. It was a young crowd for the most part, no one much older than I was. There were family-sized tables, corner booths and private areas with sweeping red drapes. There were people at the bar slamming back tequila shots, and huge margaritas the size of punch bowls.

  I didn’t have to give the host my name; as soon as he saw me he directed me to one of the private tables concealed by drapes in the far back corner. I figured Dane would pick somewhere private. My nerves kicked up as I pulled back the drapes. To see his handsome face with that bright and devilish smile.

  I made sure to sit down in my seat slowly so Dane could see every part of me, something he couldn’t touch—at least not in public, and definitely not now. My lips were painted red, like the dress I had on—low cut, painted on my body with a fine-haired brush. My eyes were lined black where appropriate, and my hair was in a bun, held together by a pin—Japanese style, with the dragon on the end. The lust in Dane’s eyes was un-concealable.

  The way he looked at me: drinking in my curves like the thirstiest man ever to walk the earth. A man that was parched from not having been quenched in years. I waited until he looked like he was about to jump the table, then I leaned over, showing my breasts and how ample they looked in my dress.

  “So, I hear you’re graduating in a few days. Congratulations.” He tried to play it cool, but I wasn’t sure why. “You must be really proud of yourself.”

  I tried not to narrow my eyes at Dane as he spoke. What the fuck? Why wasn’t he losing his shit? “Thanks. It feels nice, since I don’t have a lot to be proud of these days.”

  He shifted in his seat, trying to keep eye contact, which seemed to become more difficult as he spoke.

  Okay, good.

  Dane cleared his throat. “Well, I did also hear that you are still working as Simon’s assistant. How is Mr. Foster treating you? Are all of your needs being met?”

  Dane was simply infuriating, but I kept my patience as the waiter came back with a plateful of food and set it between us, along the divide Dane was currently building. I wanted him to crack so bad so I could refuse him. I needed to take that power for myself. I needed to know I wasn’t weak.

  It
appeared that not only had he ordered for me, he had ordered a plate to share, like we were some longtime couple and he knew what I wanted. He didn’t even ask. I sighed. The things I did to myself.

  I filled my plate with enchiladas and rice. I wasn’t one to skip any meals. “Simon and I aren’t together anymore. I just needed my job to survive.” I kept it simple, and stuffed my mouth full of food so I wouldn’t ruin my plan.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you two were still on the outs.” The smile on his face proved to me he was lying, and likely far from sorry, but I went with it. “So, I guess that means you’re free to—”

  Great, there it was, just like I wanted.

  “Nothing! I’m free to do absolutely nothing, Dane, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about—”

  “—have margaritas with me? I only meant to ask if you wanted a margarita, Lynn. No need to get riled up.”

  I can’t believe this!

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea, considering what happened the last time we drank together.”

  “One drink won’t hurt you, Lynn. Have a margarita and I promise we can get down to discussing what you want to know afterwards. My lips are sealed until then.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at Dane “Fine. I mean, if that’s all it takes, I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

  “That’s my girl.” Dane called the waiter over, ordered two margaritas and refused to wipe that smug little grin off his face. As much as I despised drinking at that point, I could handle one margarita for the sake of the plan—which, I was starting to believe, I wasn’t going to pull off. I’d just sip it slowly, take my time.

  “Well, my brother’s loss is my gain, if you ask me.”

  “You do realize I’m a human being and not a possession to be passed around for your pleasure, right?”

  “I know that, but I’m just saying he never really knew what was good for him.”

  Dane wasn’t even drunk yet and he was talking out of his head. How would he know what Simon’s behaviors were? According to Simon, he didn’t know Dane. He was going to keep going with this ruse. I sipped my drink but kept a straight face as I slipped my right foot out of my heel, finding the bottom of his pant leg and slid into it with the end of my toes.

  Dane picked up his margarita and practically dumped it down his throat. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was making him nervous, turning him on—but with Dane you had to be careful.

  “Your brother, huh?” I removed my toes from the inside of his pant leg and decided to try and go a little bit further.

  On the outside of his leg, I ran my foot all the way up until I found the sweet spot. He was already getting hard. I couldn’t help but remember how big he could get. The unbelievable thickness of his cock and how it would lie against his leg like a python seeking warmth.

  I tried to wipe the image from my head, and got back to business. “So, you two both have the same last name, and you know a lot about him, but Simon says he doesn’t have a brother. So what do you have to say about that?”

  I licked my lips a little, not in an obvious way, but just enough. I noticed his shaft was stiffening. I took a few more sips of my margarita and began moving my foot in soft circles. I could feel his cock twitching, but I had to give it to him: he was pretty good at keeping his composure.

  “No need to tiptoe around the subject, Lynn.” He smiled as he looked down toward his crotch. He scooped my heel in his hand and massaged me from foot to ankle. “I wouldn’t mind filling you up… I’m sorry, I mean filling you in. I’ve been dying to since the last time we saw each other.” Dane looked at me with those piercing blue eyes. My skin began to tingle, prickled with gooseflesh.

  Despite my best efforts at resisting Dane’s charms, I felt a hint of moisture seep between my folds. Was he turning the tables on me? I was basically wearing a few strings of lace—they were called panties, but not by normal standards. I was starting to regret that I wore them, because Dane’s innuendos were starting to turn me on, and it wasn’t what I had in mind at all.

  I was thinking of him on top of me; his hard cock pounding into my anxious, pulsing center, his full weight pressing down on me forcibly like I like it. But of course, he wouldn’t know that unless I showed him, so the thought crossed my mind that I should.

  My eyes were on his jaw line; I was in awe of how perfect it was. His wavy black hair, his muscular body; I remembered what it felt like when I woke up in his penthouse. I hated to admit it, but I was curious as well as angry. What did I miss out on that night? The details still weren’t clear. Dane still hadn’t confirmed or denied what we did, so all I could go on was how I felt the next morning. My back wasn’t hurt, my thighs weren’t sore and considering how large Dane was, how likely could that be?

  I let out a breath. This whole thing was totally frustrating.

  I was rubbing his cock without thought by that time. I didn’t realize until my toes curled up from thinking about having sex. I looked up, and Dane’s eyes were closed. His breathing was deep, shuddering and heavy. There was something exhilarating about doing this in public, even though we were hidden behind a curtain.

  “Lynn,” he barely managed out of his mouth. I smiled, because it sounded like a plea for utter mercy. “Okay, you need to stop now.” But I wouldn’t. I was in control. I could feel his thick cock throbbing underneath my foot. Dane didn’t talk for another few moments. I could hear him making sounds, mmm’s and ahhh’s rolling from his lips like we were kissing.

  His head was laid back against the wall. He pushed his pelvis forward to increase the feeling of pleasure. That was when I decided I needed to stop.

  “Hey!” His eyes sprang open.

  “I’ll continue if you tell me what I need to know.”

  “I don’t have anything to say.”

  “Then I’ve got nothing to do.” I brushed his crotch once again lightly with my toes. He shuddered under my touch and looked at me narrowly. We sat there staring at each other in a standoff, eye to eye, a test of wills; his need for pleasure versus my need for information. Who would win, I wasn’t exactly sure.

  Dane let out a breath, looked away briefly and leaned on the table. “And what is it you need to know? I’m curious now.”

  I continued to stare at him. He knew what I needed to know. He knew what had been eating me up inside, what ruined my relationship with Simon.

  “We didn’t sleep together, Lynn. Is that what you needed to know? I tell you, though, I wish we had. I mean, I really wish we had. I bet you’re a wild one in the sack.”

  Dane waited for a reaction from me. I knew what he expected, and I wasn’t going to give it to him. He lived for that shit: pushing people’s buttons, waiting to get a reaction. He fed on it like a vampire, needing it to survive. I went back to eating my food after slipping my foot away from his dick. He had a disappointed look on his face.

  “I thought you were going to keep going if I told you?”

  “I would, but I wouldn’t want you to have an accident. Your pants look expensive. Besides, I have another lingering question.”

  “I know what you’re going to say, and I’ve answered that one already. The fact you don’t believe me isn’t my problem. Perhaps you should find another source to corroborate my story.”

  “And what other source would that be? I’ve already asked Simon, and he denied it.”

  “Well, I didn’t hatch out of an egg, Lynn. Maybe you should ask who’s directly responsible.”

  “And who would that be?”

  He wouldn’t answer.

  “Look, how about I call the car around, and we go back to my place. Once we’re there we can relax and maybe play twenty questions. Perhaps discuss this in more detail.”

  I smiled. I also knew this was coming. Dane was nothing if not a creature of habit. “I think I’ll have to pass on that glorious offer, thank you. I have to get working on that other source you’ve mentioned. That is, unless you plan on helping me out.”

  Dane
stared off into space as if contemplating the suggestion. “As a matter of fact, I plan to do just that.”

  Lesson # 11

  Violence begets…

  “I found my fist moving on its own accord toward the perfectly white teeth of this blood-related stranger.” -Simon Foster

  Simon

  I was wearing a slim-fit Giorgio Armani tuxedo, with a matching white tie and white shoes. My mother was fussing over Katelyn and I like we were children on our way to senior prom. “Oh, look at you two.” She hugged us. “See, son, you should listen to your mother more often. Katelyn, you look amazing as usual.” The way she fussed, I was starting to feel uncomfortable. Katelyn and my mother displayed their megawatt smiles, while I was trying to figure out what I was doing there.

  “Your mother loves me,” Katelyn whispered in my ear. Everything with her was like a secret. I had been in this tux half an hour or so, but it just didn’t seem to hang right on me. When I had moved out to pursue my degree in education I had aggressively sworn off my lavish lifestyle, the clothes and most of the parties I attended every year. Everything my lavish life had entailed. I lived on normal food, led a normal life and struggled, just like any other student. I wanted to earn everything I had without help, the influence of the wealthy, my parents and their “favors.” I felt free of it all for several years.

  We walked through the entrance hall and into the grand room. I was fussing with my tie to loosen its noose around my neck. I tied the thing so tight that I felt claustrophobic. I’d never been too keen on wearing ties.

  The white party was held at my family’s Atherton home. It was private, hidden behind high walls and perfect for their influential guests.