Mr. Bad Boy: Teacher's Pet (Craving Older Bad Boys)

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Mr. Bad Boy: Teacher's Pet (Craving Older Bad Boys) Page 5

by Lexi Hunter


  I pictured the black lace corset I had tucked away upstairs and wondered if I should have just told him. But it would be so much sweeter when I surprised him. It was my graduation gift to him. We'd made it through college together and were about to become official adults. He already had everything he needed. The only thing that was uniquely mine to give was my body, and knowing that he would be the first man to ever receive it—and hopefully the last—was the best present I could think of to give him.

  Erik could make up for canceling on me tomorrow, I decided. It wasn't late yet—only nine o'clock—but it was nine o'clock on the Friday after graduation. The big party at Alec's was tomorrow, so tonight everyone was either hanging out in small groups or doing something with their family.

  I let out a loud cough again as smoke drifted past me once more, seeping into father's curtains. At least now I knew why they were so yellow.

  If my mom and stepdad knew that father and his group of cronies were smoking around me, would they care? Probably not, they were too busy living it up in fucking Paris of all places. How could they be expected to care about my life in America when they were thousands of miles across the world? Sometimes I really hated them for leaving me alone with my dad. He was twenty years older than my mother and acted like a senior citizen. I imagined that had been part of the reason why my mom had left him when she did. Bingo wasn't exactly part of my Friday night social life, I doubted it had worked any better for her.

  I stood up and walked back to the dining table, restless, and gave another small cough behind Colt's head. Annoying Colt was one of my favorite things to do. He was the hottest man I'd ever laid eyes on, but he was also a real asshole. In his early forties, he seemed never to have developed the type of personality that would win him any girls. He wasn't friendly. He wasn't kind. The only thing he was good at was getting his way.

  I was sure that he'd never had a girlfriend. No way. Who would want to plant her lipstick all over his chiseled body? Or thread their fingers through his thick, raven colored hair? It didn't matter that his skin was a golden brown and his eyes were like two dark brown pits I could sink my soul into. Like I said, I hated Colt. And Colt hated me.

  He cared for his black leather motorcycle jacket like it was a baby. The chrome on his bike was shinier than my hair. If only once he had glanced at me, he could have melted my panties right off. But he never glanced. I walked around the table and tried not to notice his polished bronze skin and soft, supple lips. His five '0 clock shadow all but made my knees knock together, especially combined with the dark, wavy hair that fell to his shoulders. Too bad all he cared about was his damned Harley. I coughed again, but of course, he ignored me as usual.

  I walked around the table looking at everyone's cards. Colt held his face down towards the table when I came near him. It had been almost three months since I'd first moved in with my father and Colt still acted like he didn't trust me. Dad sure has great taste in friends. If my best friend ever treated Dad the way Colt treated me, I'd be mad as hell. My father was either too old to notice or too old to care.

  When my mom had first told me she and Ryan were moving to Paris for his job, I had raced to the phone to call Beth. I could hardly contain my excitement. Paris! I'd have to learn French! Visions of the Eiffel Tower and sophisticated French bistros had swum through my head. I'd been about to turn twenty-one and relished the idea of having my first legal drink in a fancy French café.

  "Um, honey?" my mom had said. But I'd been too busy searching Google for the trendiest night spots in France and had missed the hesitation in my mom's voice. "You don't have to be twenty-one to drink in Paris."

  "Oh," I'd asked, turning to her. "How old do you have to be?"

  "You can drink wine when your sixteen. The harder stuff when you're eighteen."

  "Seriously? Why didn't we move there sooner?"

  "You know, you might enjoy your birthday more here in America."

  "I doubt that."

  "Honey, the thing is..."

  Then Ryan had come into the room. He'd looked at my mother, and that look I hadn't missed. I'd known my dreams were about to be shattered. My stepdad couldn't bring himself to say it, so my mom pushed him aside and squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath.

  "Maddison, what we said was we're moving to Paris."

  I stared at them, confused. "Yeah. That's... awesome. I can't wait to tell everyone."

  My mother sighed. "No Maddie, your stepfather and I are moving to Paris. Without you."

  CHAPTER 2

  Excuses

  SCHOOL. HA! That had been their excuse. I couldn't go with to Paris because I was so close to graduating. They didn't want me to miss it. Of course, it was alright for them to miss it. I had graduated two days ago and the only family I'd had there was Grandpa, my father, and Colt.

  Actually, it was a little strange that Colt had been there. He was my father's best friend, sure, but I'd hardly ever seen him growing up because I'd hardly ever seen my dad. He and my mom had split up when I was still pretty young, and she'd filled my head with these ideas that my father was a worthless sonofabitch. So even when he'd come around, I hadn't wanted to see him.

  When my mom had forced me into either moving out on my own—like that was gonna happen when I made eight dollars an hour working part-time at Tire Mart—or move in with my dad, I had gone with the latter, knowing that soon Erik and I would be getting a place together once he started his master's program in England. I'd been shocked when my dad had actually expressed an interest in going to my graduation.

  "I only get two tickets," I'd told him when he'd asked if he could bring both Grandpa and Colt. I couldn't imagine why Colt would want to go anyway. I was getting my Bachelor's Degree, not doing taking first prize in a beauty pageant.

  Yet, Colt had gone. He had somehow finagled an extra ticket for himself. One of my friends had shown me a video they'd taped on their phone before the ceremony—of Colt with his hand behind some guy's neck, leaning close like he was whispering. Except the whisper had looked more like a threat. The guy's expression had changed from annoyance to fear and he'd quickly handed Colt an extra ticket.

  I didn't know why Colt should have gone to such lengths just to see me accept my diploma, especially when we hated each other. I figured it must have been my dad. He was scared to be alone with me because he didn't know how to interact with me, so he'd stockpiled the graduation with the only friend and family he had.

  It had been too bad my mother and Ryan hadn't bothered to show up. It might have been interesting to see what would have happened with both my parents there. I could almost see Colt, his muscles flexed, as he ripped the ticket from my stepdad's hands and gave it to my real dad. Colt might have been an asshole, but he was loyal to his friends.

  Won't Mom and Ryan be surprised when I show up on their doorstep in a couple of weeks with Erik on my arm? I couldn't wait to see their expression when they found out we were engaged! He'd already been accepted into some school in England, and I would go with him and have my own fun in Europe—without my family—until I got into a master's program there myself. Europe was the perfect place to study art history.

  But that was weeks away yet. For now, I still had to contend with this ridiculous amount of smoke that Colt insisted on blowing towards me.

  "Anyone want anything?" I asked Grandpa and his friends as I headed into the kitchen.

  "Beer," shouted Mark.

  "Sandwich," shouted Donny.

  Colt, of course, said nothing. When I came back out carrying the food, he was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, puffing on that cigar of his. I wondered if he'd moved there on purpose, just so that he could blow the smoke into the kitchen and irritate me more successfully.

  Mark reached for his beer too fast and I jumped. My foot caught on Colt's and I tripped. The beer slipped through my fingers and shattered as I tried to brace my face for impact with the hardwood. I only hoped my nose wouldn't shatter like the glass just had. Colt's arms s
hot out like a lightning bolt and caught me before I ever touched the ground. He pulled me back up so that I was standing only inches from him. For someone with such large hands, his touch was gentle, like flower petals on my skin.

  "Er," I cleared my throat, "thanks." He nodded and went back to his seat.

  Dad and the others laughed. I stared at Colt a minute longer than I needed to. I could hardly believe he'd moved so fast. His strength had surprised me. I wished Erik was even half as strong as Colt was, but Erik had girls' hands, though I'd never admit that to him.

  Colt sat in his seat, wearing his black leather jacket. His dark hair had gotten tousled when he'd dove for me and I could see a handful of silver streaks crowning his head, creating a light salt and pepper look. Despite the patches of silver that shone through, the black strands still dominated his head, and it was almost impossibly thick. Part of me wanted to run my hand through it and absorb its softness.

  I realized I was still staring at him and bent down to clear up the spilled sandwich and beer, hoping my cheeks weren't too red.

  "Maddie," Dad said, smiling. I think he was a little buzzed from the beer. "Do me a favor. Next time you drop a tray like that, save the beer. Let the sandwich be the one to curl in the wind."

  I rolled my eyes. "How about next time you get your own sandwich?"

  Then I stood up and walked deliberately to the poker table, dropping the tray in the middle of their game. Dad and his friends all groaned, but from the corner of my eye, I saw Colt's mouth twitch up into a smile.

  ***

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