“Were you?” Sasha asked, trying to lighten the mood, “What was it this time?” She looked around, smiling at her co-workers' faces. She was friendly with most of them. Everyone giggled. The principal was a tall man, and looked even taller standing up on the stage’s auditorium all by himself with the teachers sitting in the crowd. He was thin and balding, in his fifties, with a mildly friendly face. Sasha pinned him as an older, smaller Bruce Willis. The actor hid his age well, but Mr. Close had not been that lucky.
“Budget cuts, actually. We were talking about the district-wide budget cuts, and how they were affecting our different departments, including yours.” Principal Close wore a sympathetic expression and he looked a little tired. His wrinkles looked deeper than usual.
“Including mine? How so?” Sasha sat up and thought about the lousy half a cracker that she had just fed her students an hour ago.
“Well,” the worried principal said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he paced the stage back and forth, “it seems that we’ll have to put a hold on the chairs that you ordered, for starters.” He stopped pacing and looked right at Sasha and waited for her expected upset response.
“What? But the ones we have now are falling apart. If one of those kids falls, you’re just asking for a lawsuit.” Sasha already knew that it was no use, but she had to try. She felt like crying and stamping her foot like one of her students, but she put on a determined expression to hide her hurt. She saw her hopes of a raise sail right out those awful double doors. Apparently that hadn’t been what Principal Close had wanted to talk about privately.
“Well, then use duct tape or glue to hold them together for now. You know it’s your responsibility to keep your kids safe. There’s not a lot more we can do.” Sasha was getting angrier and less hurt by the minute. She stood up and all the other faces in the room followed her movement. The whole auditorium seemed to be holding its breath in outrage and sympathy for her cause.
“And I suppose the school’s peewee football team will be getting new uniforms... again,” Sasha said in angry spite, the words coming out like daggers, more viscous than she might have intended. The principal looked away for a brief moment at the floor and squeezed his fist as if gathering patience for a child. That demeaning stance made Sasha even angrier.
“Well, as you very well know, the school’s peewee football team brings in badly needed revenue and their department supports itself, whereas other departments are more like a leaky faucet, slowly draining us of everything we have.” Principal Close gave her a pointed stare, and Sasha held her tongue. The principal's tone held a finality to it, so Sasha sat down, defeated. She was almost tempted to sulk and pout like little Johnny.
She wanted to tell the principal off. He was such a stick in the mud who seemed to always blame the school problems on Sasha’s department. Sasha couldn’t help that some people didn’t consider her area very important. Art was good for the mind and soul. And Lord knows, these kids needed a little improvement of both. If left to grow up in this system without some kind of beauty, Sasha knew they were more likely to commit crimes, never get their high school diplomas, and wind up in jail. She just wanted to be the one who lit their spark for a better life.
Rubbing her temples between her thumbs, Sasha couldn’t wait for this day to end so she could just go home. She closed her eyes and pretended that she was already there, with the school miles away from her, and that she was relaxing as she fully intended to do that evening.
CHAPTER 3
Or maybe not. The moment she walked through the door that night, her obnoxious roommate Anton was down her throat. He spewed a mountain of stressful litany for almost a full minute before Sasha realized that she hadn’t heard a word and should maybe pay attention. She took a deep breath and collected her patience before interrupting Anton.
“Wait-wait-wait,” Sasha said, trying to remain calm, “What now?” She was irritated: the apartment smelled like cigarettes again and she hated that. Anton had agreed to smoke outside before he invited Sasha to move in, but he always smoked inside when Sasha wasn’t home. Sasha couldn’t say anything, because technically, the apartment was Anton’s, and it was a huge favor Anton was doing her to allow her to stay here.
“I said, the cable bill is still not paid and the internet is three months late. Are you planning on paying them anytime soon? I know you’re about to get that raise, so you need to pay up.” Anton’s voice got more sarcastic with each word. He was angry, maybe rightfully so, with Sasha, and he wasn’t going to let her dodge the questions anymore. Sasha felt her chest turn to ice and her headache worsen.
“Look, I’ll talk to them. I just need a little more time.” Sasha just wanted to eat, shower, and sleep. She did not want to talk about her chronic money troubles after her day at work, especially not about the raise she had promised Anton last week to get him off her back.
“A little more time my ass. If they cut the cable off and I miss Game of Thrones, I swear to God, Sasha...” His voice trailed off under the threat. Anton acted as if missing Game of Thrones was the end of the world, and if Sasha caused it, she must die. Sasha tried not to smile: she was sure it would piss off Anton, and it would surely make her headache worse if Anton were to really start yelling.
“Cool it, Anton. I told you I’ll take care of it, so I will.”
Sasha collapsed on their couch. She had been Anton's roommate for the last year- and-a-half. That was back when Sasha was even more dirt broke, even more so than now, and she was willing to do anything to get off the streets. Then Anton, an old friend from high school, had resurfaced in her life like a godsend. He had his own place with two rooms, and was looking to split the rent with a roommate. What started out as an ideal situation quickly turned to hell within weeks. But Sasha needed a place to stay so that she could cut her expenses after her parents cut her off financially; so she wasn’t in a position to complain.
Sasha wanted to work in the inner city to help the kids in need, and that wasn’t exactly a prize occupation for a Vanderbilt, according to her father, who wanted her to become a part of his law firm. That was the exact opposite of what Sasha wanted. Her dad argued that being a lawyer allowed you to really help people, but Sasha wasn’t convinced. She just saw it as one side conning the other, and whoever paid the most, won. She didn’t want any part of that. Her dream was to help the people who really needed it, whether they had good money or not. But Sasha had always been a bit of a rebel: her parents had seen that early. Now that she was old enough to understand it, she never allowed money to dictate her life, even though she was seeing how much it hurt to be cut off financially.
Either way, she had to make it on her own, because even if she did get over her pride and ask her parents for money, her dad would never agree.
She hadn’t spoken to her parents in over a year, and with the sound of things, they weren’t exactly going to have a happy family reunion anytime soon.
“And furthermore,” Anton said, rambling on, “where the hell is your half of the rent?” Now he stood in front of Sasha in his sexy Adidas track pants that Sasha used to love to see him wear. Sasha wondered when she stopped thinking that Anton was sexy. She would have to pacify Anton for at least one day so she could sleep.
“Look, I’m going to get paid any day now. I just need a little more time. The school is being funny with our money, with budget cuts and everything, you know?” Sasha’s voice almost sounded pleading, as if begging Anton to understand her situation. Her head ached now, and she couldn’t look at her angry roommate, so she looked around the finely furnished but messy apartment.
“What the fuck, Sasha?” Anton’s limited vocabulary was grating across Sasha’s nerves. “If you can’t afford to pay for rent, then I’m going to have to get somebody who is. And I’m serious this time,” Anton threatened.
Sasha knew he wasn’t joking. He’d said it more than once before and the clock was ticking. Sasha knew that she couldn’t afford to push Anton to kick her out. She had
nowhere to go, and even if she did, she had no money to get there. She couldn’t live off the streets again: it was sure to be even worse than the last time. She took a deep breath. She just needed a glass of wine to take edge off; only they’d ran out, and by the loose change left in her pockets and the empty cabinets, there was a good chance they didn’t have any wine left.
“I’m doing the night shift again tonight at the casino, and when I get back in the morning, I'd better see some money in this basket,” Anton said, slamming a basket down on the edge of the coffee table where they normally put their half of the bill money.
Sasha sighed. How was she going to come up with it? She had no idea.
CHAPTER 4
Sasha just needed to get off. That’s probably what she needed more than anything to take the stress away. She often touched herself to relieve the tension, and since she couldn’t remember the last time she had a relationship, it was going to be another night with just her and her vibrator. She’d spent most of the night looking through the classified ads online for another job, but everything available was full-time and during her work hours at school.
She wasn’t about to give up the one thing she was passionate about just to take on another job. Besides, she loved being a teacher. If only she had a partner, a real partner, who could support her.
As she listened to the silence of the room, the only sound was the buzzing of the refrigerator and gentle fan of the laptop in front of her, and she thought about how nice it would be to finally meet 'the one.' To meet someone who could support her during tough times; who would give her a back rub when her muscles were tense; who would laugh with her and fuck her brains out when she needed to escape.
Sasha smiled at the thought. She had an active imagination, and soon found herself trailing from the classified ad section to the personals section. She’d made an account a few weeks ago. She knew the chances of meeting 'the one' in North Las Vegas, let alone online, were next to zero. Most guys in the area were too old, too out of shape, or complete nutcases.
So she liked to look at the profiles from the next town over, Las Vegas. That’s where all the hot guys were. Sure, you couldn’t have a conversation longer than 30 seconds with them, and the chances were they’d be selfish in bed, but at least she could fantasize.
Her laptop hummed patiently as she logged in quickly. She’d created a fake profile name to protect her identity and secure her job. She could only imagine if some parent, or worse yet, the principal, found out she was trolling the internet for sex. She could kiss her career goodbye, sayonara.
She had a bunch of private messages. She’d been pen pals in a sense with a few of them who weren’t exactly her type but were friendly enough. She didn’t see any harm in being nice to everybody.
Bleep! A new message came through on the screen, and a smile spread across Sasha’s lips. The subject heading said 'Hey Sexy,' and she recognized it right away from SilverDaddy702. This was the older guy she’d been corresponding with the last couple of weeks. He wasn’t exactly Sasha’s type, according to his description online, but she liked his confidence and his persistence. It felt good to be chased by somebody, anybody, and she figured, what the hell?
- Hey SilverDaddy
Sasha responded.
-Hey Sexy, what you doing tonight?
SilverDaddy typed.
- Same old, same old.
- Touching yourself?
- Exactly.
- Alone? Why not wait for me?
Sasha blushed.
-You’re such a tease.
- No, I’m serious. You know what I’d do if I got my hands on you?
Sasha stretched her fingers out over the laptop’s keyboard. What the heck, I’ll bite. She thought to herself.
-What’s that?
- I’d have you moaning all night long. You need someone to treat you right. You deserve that.
- You’re such a charmer.
- So how long are you going to string me along? You horny?
- Always.
-Let’s not fuck around anymore. Let me make you feel good tonight.
Sasha thought about it for a second. It’s not like she’d never had a guy over before when her roommate was gone: it’s just that it wasn’t like her to hook up for random sex. She looked around the bare living room. She was sitting on the only couch that faced their small TV. When she and Anton wanted to watch TV together, they had to awkwardly scoot to opposite ends, so as to avoid touching each other. Usually Sasha just gave up and sat on the threadbare carpet floor. It wasn’t comfortable, but she wasn’t interested in getting cuddly with Anton.
Sasha sighed. Looked at the ticking clock. Her roommate wouldn’t be home at least for another 10 hours. What the hell? Getting fucked all night was just the distraction she needed.
CHAPTER 5
Damn. Sasha thought to herself as the sophisticated older gentleman walked in the door. He was a lot hotter than his pictures. He resembled a mix of Robert De Niro and George Clooney.
“Nice place,” he said, in a low, confident tone as he stepped inside and looked around. It wasn't much to look at, Sasha knew. Just a few used pieces of furniture, a couple of things on the wall, but they tried to make the most of what they had.
But Sasha just said, “Thanks.”
“I’m Tony,” the man said, thrusting out his hand and giving Sasha a firm handshake. He was Italian American and sexy as fuck. Silver salt and pepper hair, olive complexion: the type of man who looked comfortable in his own skin whether he was in a boardroom or in the bedroom.
Sasha, on the other hand, was a little nervous: she always got nervous whenever she was about to have sex with a random stranger. She tried not to think of how sad of a situation it was. Almost 30 years old and she still hadn’t settled down with anybody. This was nothing like she’d dreamed where she’d be by this age. But she was horny, and desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Can I take your coat?” Sasha offered, extending her arm.
“Sure,” the man said, taking it off and handing it to her.
“Thirsty?” Sasha said, putting it on the coat rack and locking the door so there wouldn’t be any surprise visits from her roommate. “Water ...um ...I think we just have that and Kool-Aid.”
“We?” the man said, raising his eyebrow.
“Oh, no. It’s just my roommate. We're not together. Just friends.”
“No, not thirsty. Not for water anyway,” he said, with a sexy smirk on his face. He smelled good, Sasha thought: clean and sophisticated. She blushed at the comment.
“You’re bad,” Sasha mumbled. “Music?”
She went over to the stereo and started looking through her CDs. She was nervous and she knew she was fidgety. Just breathe, she told herself. Her hands shuffled through the CDs, and not finding anything, she thought she’d scroll through her iPod for something, and that’s when she felt the warm presence of the man behind her, slowly but confidently.
“Just relax,” she heard the man say as he put his hands around her waist. “We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.”
With the pressure off, it felt good, but with that intoxicating scent of the cologne and the thick hard-on pressed against her backside, Sasha wasn’t so sure she wanted to just talk. The man’s hands slid around to Sasha’s tummy, then rubbed her shoulders and triceps.
He was much taller than Sasha, and she could feel the coarse scruff of his unshaven jaw line against her neck.
“Would you like that ...? To just...talk? Hmmm...” his voice rumbled as he gave her a soft little kiss between her shoulder and her neck that drove Sasha wild. She couldn’t help herself as her neck arched back.
The kisses became more passionate and intense, and as Tony pulled Sasha closer to him, his lips were scooping and his tongue was tasting Sasha's shoulder as if she were a tasty barbecue rib.
“Mmm,” he said, “Damn, you taste good.”
He turned Sasha around and Sasha looked into his eyes for the
first time: light brown eyes, with long dark eyelashes. God, he really was good looking and powerful and loving.
Sasha felt his strong hands go under her shirt, his thumbs feeling the ridges of her ribs, trouncing her hardened, perky nipples. He lifted the shirt up more and kissed her stomach, trailing his lips slowly over her soft skin.
His moist lower lip scooped around them, working its way up until it reached Sasha’s nipples. The sensation was incredible. Sasha fell back, landing on the rough couch, but Tony kept going, climbing on top of Sasha, shoving his knee between her legs to open them as if he owned her - as if he could do and would do whatever he wanted to that night.
He yanked Sasha’s soft cotton shirt off to reveal what great shape she was in. Sasha had been working out for years and even though it’d been a few weeks since she’d had the time or the money to hit the gym, her body still bore the results of endless workouts in the past.
Tony looked at Sasha's body in awe. “Like I said, ‘damn.’”
Sasha smiled, her long, curly red hair falling across her forehead and obscuring her vision for a second. It felt good to be complimented and to be with someone who made her feel good; like more than just a hole to be fucked, but like a human being to be desired and tasted and treated.
And then came Tony’s tongue, his long, warm, and talented tongue that circled around and flicked and teased and bit and blew at every part of her pale, pink nipples. It’d been so long since Sasha had been with someone so experienced and talented, she gripped the side of couch for support and control.
She moaned deeply, passionately, uncontrollably. It was like this man knew her every special spot and was hitting it exactly the way she dreamed it would feel and could feel.
“Oooh,” Sasha moaned, “oh, fuck yeah.”
I'm Your Baby Tonight - Part One - A New Adult Contemporary Romance Series (I'm Your Baby Tonight Series) Page 2