by Sienna Mynx
“It’s not okay to abuse my trust. To do what you did,” Destini said. “It hurt.”
“Dez, please––.”
“I’m sorry, Naiya. It’s not cool.” Destini pushed free.
“I did this to you. Will you ever get over it?”
“I’m okay. Actually, I’m better than okay. Whoever he was, he did that for me. I feel different.”
“You do?” Naiya asked as she wiped away her tears.
“Carson just hit on me, and I didn’t even blink. Russell called with his crap, I told him where to ‘step-off’ as you would say.”
“You did? Wait, Carson did what?”
Destini laughed. “I’m better than good. I’m free. Took me a minute to process that night, what I gave into. What boundaries I crossed. I understand me, my sexuality, and who I am, including who I am not.”
Naiya nodded.
Destini smiled. “And the best part of it is you were right. Looks like I was able to pick up the best part of Rain. She’s with me now.”
Naiya watched her turn to get her purse. “You writing again?”
“You know it. I’ll email you the latest. I think you’ll really like the new and improved Rain. The readers do.”
“Dez, don’t go. Don’t leave.”
“Help me carry my stuff to the car.”
Naiya cut her off. “Our friendship? What about that?”
“Time. It’ll take time for us to be friends again, Naiya. The good news is I still want to be.”
Naiya smiled. “Me too. Me too.”
Twelve
The First Day at Gaylor Prep
“Ms. Sanders, this way please.”
A petite woman in a dark, conservative suit stepped back for her to rise. Destini looked up from her bench seat. The boarding school was where the elite sent their kids until adulthood. The staff as well as the students all resided on the 600-acre estate. She’d already moved into the cutest two-bedroom cottage, and her salary meant she could finally do the things she wanted and invest more into her writing. Gaylor Preparatory was a dream come true.
Rising, Destini slipped her purse higher on her shoulder and nodded she’d follow. The long, drafty hall echoed their footsteps. She noticed the pictures of the Chancellors, a testament to the school’s rich history. She was drawn to one in particular. A portrait of the Gaylors dated twenty-four years ago. Destini stepped closer. It was of Mitchell Gaylor and his wife Arlene. A handsome couple posed for the painter with twin boys. Very stoic looking little boys who appeared to be no older than four or five.
“This way, please.”
Destini forced herself to look away from the children’s haunted eyes.
“Yes, okay.”
Destini walked through the large abbey doors that were opened for her.
“Ms. Sanders, you’ve arrived,” Mrs. Brichton said, hanging up the phone. The Director of Admissions and Human Resources was a lot warmer than Destini expected. Everyone seemed so stiff. This woman, who looked to be in her late forties with fiery red hair and blue eyes set upon a freckled face, was a breath of fresh air.
“Welcome. I’m Delores Brichton.”
Destini extended her hand and shook it. “Thank you. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Brichton.”
“Have you settled in? Your things?” she asked, concerned.
“Yes. I’m settled in. Everyone has been very kind.”
“Great.” Mrs. Brichton checked the time on her watch. She clapped her hands together. “Let me give you the tour. Shall we?”
Destini nodded, and they walked out of the office with wall-to-wall bookshelves and conservative furnishings. The stony floor echoed their steps in harmony as they went.
“Mrs. Daniels, please inform the Chancellor that Ms. Sanders is here. I’ll be bringing her over shortly.”
“Yes, Madame.”
Mrs. Brichton gestured for them to turn down the next hall. “Of course the bottom level is the administrative floor. I have an office, as do all the Directors and teachers. Let me show you to yours.”
“The teachers have their own offices?” Destini asked.
“Of course. We’re really excited about the test scores from the students at Wellington. I’m told by Mr. Carson that’s to your credit and some of the curriculum ideas you pushed through the public school system. It’s one of the reasons I recruited you so heavily. His endorsement is highly respected here.
“I’m aware that he sits on the board. So it’s a real honor to have him endorse me,” she said.
“We can discuss the details later, but we’d like to institute more testing for our elementary studies. You would oversee it.”
Destini beamed. She had plenty of ideas that a private institution would be receptive to, in contrast to the state-mandated prudence of Wellington. “I’d love to.”
“Here we are,” Mrs. Brichton said. She opened the door and smiled. Destini stepped inside. The office was the size of her condo. What would be her desk was at its center, but pushed back toward large windows. Its high-back leather chair turned away as though its last occupant had been enjoying the spectacular view. Slowly the office chair swiveled and Destini came face to face with the Chancellor.
“Chancellor Carson. I was going to bring her to your office, sir.”
Bryce Carson stood. He smiled. “I heard she was here. Welcome to Gaylor Preparatory, Ms. Sanders. I’ve been anxiously waiting for your arrival.”
“Ms. Sanders, I’m sure he needs no further introduction. His family founded Gaylor Preparatory. He just recently accepted the position of Chancellor upon his brother’s departure to Ireland.”
“I know this must be a shock,” he said, extending his hand.
Destini’s arm rose like a robot to accept the handshake. Her mouth closed, and she swallowed hard, unable to speak. Bryce smile was sly to his lips, holding her hand, rubbing the ball of his thumb into her palm.
“Mrs. Brichton, why don’t I continue the tour? I’m sure you have other matters to attend to.”
“Yes, sir.” She looked down at the way their hands remained locked between the two of them. “Ms. Sanders, if you need anything, please let me know,” she said, walking out and closing the door.
Destini snatched her hand away and stepped back immediately. “What are you doing here? What is this?”
“As she said, my family owns the school. We own the board. In fact, we own Manchester Hills. I’m the––”
“You know what I mean!” Destini snapped. “This has to be some kind of joke.”
“I can assure you it isn’t. I had hoped to prepare you for this shock before you arrived but you turned down my offer, to talk,” he said.
“You could have just come out and told me. Doing it this way, it’s creepy. I just left a job to come work for my old boss. Seriously?” she took a step back.
“Was I that bad?” he chuckled.
Destini sighed. “This is not a game. This is my career. I don’t have time for this. I’m leaving.”
“I suggest you stay,” he said behind her as she turned to leave. She kept going. Her heart racing.
“Rain. I suggest you stay.”
Destini froze. Her hand dropped from the doorknob. Slowly she turned. Bryce pushed his hands into his pockets. He looked her over as if she was on the menu once more. “What did you call me?”
“Rain, or should I use our safe word. Pearl.”
Destini’s purse slipped from her shoulder. Terror squeezed the air from her lungs. She looked into his eyes and every moment with Sir came back hot and heavy with clarity. How could she have not known it was him? My God! What did Naiya do? What had she done? Frozen with shock and hurt she couldn’t move or speak.
“I want to explain.”
“Don’t!” The air in her lungs grew solid. She heaved a sigh mounting on the verge of panic. “Don’t! I know you and Naiya set me up. She told me what you did, she just didn’t tell me how depraved and sick the game was.”
Bryce’s smile faded. His bro
ws lowered and his eyes bore into her when he spoke. “I set you up. Naiya never truly understood that she was just along for the ride.”
“You set me up?” Destini frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”
He nodded. “It will when you hear me out.”
“You don’t know me. Not enough to pull that off. And why would you?”
“I know Rain. In fact, I’m one of her biggest fans. I have all your books.”
“Oh my God! I think I’m going to be sick!” she tried to open the door but fumbled with it. Her hands felt as weak as her legs. And he advanced on her. He slammed his palm against the door and kept her trapped between him and her escape.
“I wanted to ignore my desires for you. I don’t let many people in. But you, every day, every hour, you tempt me.”
“Let me out!”
“A parent came to my office one day. She had concerns. Apparently she believed you were the author of a series of books called Black Rain. I settled the matter and made sure to spare you any embarrassment. You are, one of the best teachers I’ve ever known.”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear this.” Destini shook her head in refusal.
“We will have this conversation. I’m ready. You’re ready.” He touched her hair.
“No!”
He turned her forcefully and grabbed her by her throat. Not in a rough manner. In a gesture that was more controlled with the purpose of keeping her still. She looked into his eyes and saw him truly for the first time. Was she sleepwalking the past four years they worked together? Could she actually sleep with a man she knew and not know, but somehow deep down in her heart know?
“I was bored one night,” he said and voice grew husky. “Frustrated. I opened the book and I read it. I read all of it.”
“If you don’t get your hands off my throat I will scream,” she replied.
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I started to Google everything about the author. I could find nothing. I gobbled up all the other books and I needed more. And I began to wonder. Could it be true? Could it be you? Could my sweet, obedient Destini be Rain? And then Naiya showed up at my club.”
“Your club? I thought—”
“It’s mine,” he said. “And I learned all I needed to know.”
“So you set me up. To violate me?”
“To know you. To be close to you. To have you,” he said. He moistened his lips. “I’m so glad I did.”
Destini absorbed his words, still finding it too surreal to believe. He lowered his hand from her throat. She was breathing hard and so was he. Even now with the truth in front of her she refused to accept that it happened with Bryce Carson.
“I can’t take the credit for it all Destini. You knew my ties to Gaylor,” he said.
“I knew you were on the board. I never knew you belonged to this place. How would I? Your name is Carson not Gaylor!”
“Carson is a middle name, Gaylor is the family name. I dropped Gaylor years ago. When I learned my brother had made an offer to bring you here I was conflicted. When you gave yourself to me at Ajani it became clear.” Destini put a hand over her eyes, listening with dread, and a tinge of curiosity—wanting to hear that he pursued her, that he felt it too, but refusing to allow her mind to confess it. That awareness she kept buried deep. At the forefront was her anger and desperation to backtrack until he was permanently out of her life.
“I was quite surprised when you came to the club. Didn’t recognize you at first. You were dressed,” his voice faltered and his eyes scanned her curves, “nicely.”
“I can’t stay here.”
Bryce stepped forward, and she stilled. “I’ll answer any questions you have.” He wiped his jaw as if he was fighting to restrain himself. “Rain.”
“I’m leaving here! Do you understand me!”
“You’re under contract,” he reminded her.
“You can’t hold me to that… after what we did. We can’t possibly work together.”
“I want to hold you, period. That’s the point. But I see you aren’t ready for that just yet. So yes, I’ll hold you to the contract instead, to keep you here.” He stepped in closer, and she circled him, effectively avoiding his touch.
“Games. It’s all a game to you. This is my life. My career, you jerk.”
“No one knows about your other interests. No one knows about mine.”
Destini closed her eyes, trying to think, trying to consider, and trying to rationalize it all.
Bryce enjoyed her torment.
“I’ll let you settle in. The tour I want to give you is best done under moonlight. My cottage isn’t far from yours.” He pressed his lips together, his eyes on her hips, then lifting to her face. He shook his head and walked out.
Stunned, she staggered back when the door closed. This couldn’t be happening. Bryce Carson the Chancellor of Gaylor? She dropped on the desk behind her. Her eyes never left the door as she processed the tangled web of deceit. Passion, lust, and need spun all around her.
It was all a fantasy; just good times on her laptop and a wild night at some obscure club are all it was supposed to be. She was Destini Sanders. Rain wasn’t real. Sir wasn’t supposed to be real. What could she possibly do about it now?
Sir’s Lesson
The Dark Side of Love
Thirteen
“Rain... Rain?”
“I’m here, lover.” Rain traced the tip of the black feather over his quivering bottom lip. Its slow glide didn’t end there. She used the feathered point to circle his flattened pink nipple. He shivered. So did she.
“Shhh, no talking now. You know better.”
Conrad was his name. Two weeks ago he walked into her life unmasked. Conrad Meeks had broken one of the most important tenants of their contract. He released her from anonymity without her approval or consent. Years ago he was one of the department store managers at her old company. A man she rarely took notice of and only knew by name. He pursued her in secret for over a year. When her feelings for him brought role reversals into their love play she promptly ended all contact. There was no need any longer. Conrad. Conrad. Conrad. He was different than all her other lovers. She was different with him.
Rain’s gaze roved over the beautiful maleness sprawled before her. The packed muscles under taunt skin riveted her inner core. Each chiseled inch of his torso swelled and released under his staggered breath. He wasn’t handcuffed or shackled. She didn’t need to restrain Conrad, because she desired this intimacy so much. His chest glistened with a slick sheen of sweat. He was a good pet, a very disciplined lover. This pleased her. He was also a patient, attentive listener and this weakened her.
The discipline and control that she craved could be found in his touch and the strong, calloused feel of his hands over her skin. The fervent way he reached for her, no matter her resistance, to please her. She succumbed to the urgent, masterful way he possessed her tongue if she dared offered him a kiss. There was meaning within his touch. Rain found it curious that it suddenly mattered.
His only binding was the white silk scarf she tied around his eyes. Lately, the urge to dominate had waned. She was uncertain about this change. Lately. She found such deep, soul-encompassing pleasure in his arms or a light brush of his lips upon her skin. Lately, he was the man she wanted.
She withdrew. Casting the feather to the nightstand, Rain circled her captive who waited for her on golden sheets woven in the finest of silks and linen. This was the night she’d let go. Let him know that...
Destini lowered the lid on her laptop. She bit down on her bottom lip until it pulsed and swelled between her clenched teeth. She held her breath until her lungs burned and her throat itched for release. It wasn’t working. Wheezing like a deflated balloon, the tension in her chest coiled into a tight knot.
One week at Gaylor Prep and she was in over her head. Now her writing was meaningless dribble because of it. She wasn’t bold enough to tell how Conrad and Rain made the transition, but she was arrogant enough
to think her readers wouldn’t mind. Locking the door to her office and shutting the world out did no good. On a Friday evening with a pile of test booklets and a headache that reached from the front temporal lobe of her brain to her cerebellum, she found herself uptight, overworked, and riled.
Destini choked down a small laugh through her tears of frustration over conjuring terms from her third graders’ exam sheets to describe her pain. Now that was progress. The question remained: where were the words? She was a master at word play. So why had Rain’s saucy dialogue and quick wit escaped her? It wasn’t the students; it wasn’t the new curriculum. The fault lies with him. Him: Bryce ‘Lying Bastard’ Carson!
Destini dropped forward. Her elbows rested on her desk. She put her face in the upturned palms of her hands. This week, with the hustle of moving and settling into her cottage, meeting her new students and aloof faculty members, she walked a thin line of frustration and hopelessness. That invisible line she’d walked all her life between what was expected of her and what she repressed. The only difference was Naiya was no longer the keeper of her secrets or her faithful sounding board. She wouldn’t dare call upon her pious mother or self-involved sisters for advice. She was utterly alone.
Destini could thank her new boss, her one-time lover, for her dilemma. Within the strict disciplined walls of Gaylor Prep, he waited. She could feel his urges calling for her. His pull demanded a continuation of their encounter. And if she weakened, he’d force the issue of her desires until her resistance snapped, and she was once again his willing ‘sub’. Each time a door opened, her head went up. Every time she heard a man’s voice her heart stopped.
And it was never him was it? That’s what really has you upset and uptight. Right, Destini? Even though you say you don’t want to see him and confront him, you still want to see him. The man you ignored for four years now is the man you can’t keep off your mind.
Again, that voice in her head taunted. Not a trace of him the entire week. In the evenings when she walked from the school to the faculty cottages along cobblestone walkways between lush emerald expanses of manicured lawns, she searched for him. Each morning when she returned to the school hall she held her breath in anticipation. Where was he?