We both know this is wrong. But, right now, the wrong thing feels so damn right.
She breaks away from my lips and sits back on her heels. “When it comes to ethics, there is only right or wrong and good or bad, and even though there are gray areas that some would consider morally acceptable, depending on the circumstance, I know that dating a student is one hundred percent wrong.”
“No one will ever know. I graduate in a few months.”
She frowns. “Your friends already know. I’m sure it wouldn’t be long until your entire frat house knew about us. I can’t go back to being a trial lawyer—or any kind of lawyer for that matter.”
“You won’t have to.” Now, I’m curious, so I have to ask, “Why can’t you be a lawyer?”
She turns her head away from me and looks off into the parking lot. “It’s complicated. Teaching is my new career, and in one year, I will hopefully have enough money to stop working at the club. But I can’t go back to being a lawyer.”
I rub her cheek with my thumb to get her attention, and her focus shifts back to me, her blue eyes bright in the dim light.
“Lawyers make tons of money. You don’t need to slum it in some sleazy club to get paid. My friend’s father has connections that he could use to get you a job that would pay enough, so you wouldn’t have to dance anymore.”
“My last case…” Her voice trails off, and her face goes blank, unreachable. “It was bad. Let’s just leave it at that.”
She cuts off our conversation as her lips crash into mine. My hand travels up her back, my fingers digging through her hair, deepening the kiss. She fumbles with the button of my jeans as my hand travels beneath her shirt and under her bra to pinch her nipple between my fingers.
Completely lost in the moment, I don’t even care that my fingers are numb and that my teeth hurt from the cold. But she must care because she stops kissing me long enough to look into my eyes, and she rests her hands on my shoulders. “Let’s take this back to my place.” Her body trembles, despite my best efforts to keep her warm.
I nod, and she hops off my lap. “I’ll meet you there.”
OLIVIA
I made a horrible mistake. I fucked my student—this time, knowing he was my student—and I liked it. A lot. We had mind-numbing, toe-curling sex. With the show Mark put on last night, it was like the sex Olympics. I should put an end to our relationship. But I won’t—not when it feels too good to stop.
At thirty years old, I am the adult, and I have to act like one. So, when his text comes through, asking me to see him after I get off work, I shove the phone into my pocket and meet Donna at Broad Street Beans for coffee, desperate for a couple of shots of espresso and my favorite brownie cheesecake.
Most of the students and staff recharge at the on-campus coffee shop between classes. I usually avoid coming here unless I have a lunch date with Donna because eating lunch with my students does not appeal to me. But Donna likes their coffee, and the desserts here are amazing.
The place is packed to the brim, the tables crammed with groups of kids in Strick U shirts, some who are wearing shorts and sandals in the middle of winter. I pass by a few students who are in my afternoon class. When they notice me, I give a quick wave and keep moving toward the back of the shop.
When I find Donna at our usual table, she already has my drink waiting for me, and she’s eating my food.
“You could have ordered one for yourself, you know,” I say, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. “I’m starving, and that is not enough for us to share.”
“Oh, I bet you’ve worked up an appetite.” She snorts when she laughs, sets the fork down on her plate, and wipes her mouth with a napkin. “You look like you had about ten minutes of sleep last night.” After chugging half of her coffee, she smiles, passing it to me from across the table. “What are you doing later?”
I shrug, nonchalant. “Nothing special. I was planning on opening a bottle of wine and grading papers.”
Donna leans her elbows on the table, and her dark strands fall in her face, forcing her to push them behind her ears. “Now that you’re back to boning your student, you should come out with us again tonight. Tony and the guys have a big race against a really good crew. It will be fun.” She scoots her chair closer to mine, the metal legs scraping along the tiled floor. “This race will be way better than the last one, and we don’t have to worry about the cops being up in the suburbs. Tony says they don’t even know the spot exists.”
“I don’t know.” I lift the fork from the plate and dig into my cake, mulling over my response. “I can’t risk losing my job, and racing is illegal. Last time was a close call. If Mark hadn’t found me, I probably would’ve ended up in jail.”
“Isn’t what you’re doing with your student illegal and already putting your job at risk?” She takes a sip from her coffee, looking at me from beneath her lashes.
“No”—my tone is defensive—“it’s not illegal—only immoral and unethical.”
“Mark is not jailbait, and he’s sexy as fuck. If I wasn’t with Tony, I’d be all over your man-boy.”
Blush spreads to my cheeks. I have no idea why I am embarrassed, especially after telling Donna all my dirty secrets about my student fling. “He’s all man. Trust me. There’s nothing boyish about Mark.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” She tilts her head back and laughs. “Could you really lose your job over him? He’s graduating in a few months, and it’s not like he’s a child. He can make his own decisions.”
“I wish it were that simple. Even though I wouldn’t legally get into trouble over it, a professor dating a student is frowned upon and considered unprofessional in the eyes of the university. Not to mention, how it would look to other students if they found out. They would assume Mark was only doing well in my class because I handed him As for sexual favors and not because he had put in the effort. If people were to find out, it would not only hurt me, but it would also hurt him.”
She snorts. “He’s a frat boy with a big dick, and he has a shot at playing pro ball. Do you really think he cares about his image? Girls probably line up to have sex with him, and his teachers pass him just for showing up to class. You know how they treat athletes at this school. He would walk away from this with his image intact. Plus, one bad grade from his Law and Ethics teacher in his final semester wouldn’t kill him.”
“I think you’re missing the point, D. While I might not go to prison for hooking up with my student, I could lose my job and the respect of the faculty. Who would want to hire me then? I’d end up working at the club with Bruno and the girls for the rest of my life.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and scans the café, annoyed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. It could be worse, you know.”
I stuff another bite of cake into my mouth, mostly to avoid this conversation, and I glance out the window in shock. “Fuck.”
“What?” Donna follows my gaze, her eyes growing as wide as her mouth once she sees my cause for concern. “Either Mark has ESP, or he planted a tracking chip on you last night. Weird-ass timing, don’t you think?”
“Very.” My eyes are pinned on Mark as he walks through the door with Luca and Hunter, all of them looking like broad-shouldered sports models.
He makes this so much harder on me than it has to be. If only I could find something about him I hated, but no, he somehow manages to pull me in further every time we are together. Mark tests my willpower and makes me rethink my decisions.
I quit being a lawyer because I’d made a decision that was ethically right but morally wrong. But I’d had an obligation to my client, no matter how much I wanted the jury to find him guilty and lock him up for the rest of his life. Brandis deserves to rot in a cell and to get gang-raped after what he did to those girls.
Now, I have to live with choosing the ethical way and what I thought at the time was the right way, which makes me reconsider my feelings for Mark. I did the right thing once before, and it did not work out. It ruined
my life.
What if avoiding Mark ends up being another decision I will regret? I already have to live with so many of them.
“There’s way too much hotness going on over there.” Donna snaps me out of my daze. Like an idiot, she points in their direction, attracting the attention of Mark and his friends. “The one with dark hair is so fine. What is his name? Come to mama!”
“Off-limits.” I snap my fingers. “And stop staring.”
“You know, you are such a buzzkill. I love me a sexy Italian man, and that one is fine with a capital F.”
“You have Tony.”
She chuckles and twirls her dark hair around her finger. “Well, he’s not here right now, and your man-boy has some hot-ass friends.”
I shake my head, all too aware of how close Mark is to me and not the least bit oblivious to the fact that he has been glancing at our table since he first laid eyes on me. One cocky smirk from him, and my panties are damp. Images of last night play in my head like a movie, torturing me. I try my hardest to pretend like Mark is anywhere but here. But he’s not just in my head; he’s in my skin, his touch still with me.
Watching him scratch the corner of his jaw, I think of the little stubble he hasn’t shaved and how good it felt against my pussy only ten hours ago, forcing me to cross my legs. He takes his phone from his jeans pocket, and his fingers glide across the keyboard at a fast pace, but his eyes never leave mine. A few seconds later, my cell phone buzzes with a message from Mark.
Mark: Restroom. Now.
Me: No. Too many people here.
Mark: Would you prefer I sit down at your table?
Me: No. Do not come over here! Some of the faculty are on the other side of the room.
Mark: Then, get your sexy ass in the restroom right now.
Me: Fine. Just don’t come over here.
Mark: Good girl.
Allowing the devil on my shoulder to control me, I excuse myself from the table. Donna doesn’t seem to notice much or care as she sips her drink and gazes off toward the front of the café. I slip through the crowded tables, moving to the back of the building, and push open the restroom door. To ensure we have privacy, I bend down and look under each stall, relieved that no one is here to overhear whatever Mark wants to talk to me about.
After I check the last stall, the restroom door swings open and slams shut before I have time to stand and turn around, my ass still up in the air with my skirt halfway up my thighs.
“Stay like that, baby.” Mark’s voice sounds deep and loud in the quiet room.
I hear him unzip his pants, and I spin around to face him. He already has a condom in his hand that he brings to his mouth to open with his teeth, spitting part of the wrapper on the floor. Then, he flips the lock on the door and stalks toward me.
“Put your hands on the wall”—he motions his head toward the cinder-block wall painted a pale yellow—“and spread your legs.”
I’m so turned on right now by his words, the sexy glaze in his eyes, and the way his muscles move beneath his fitted gray shirt. With his hand now wrapped around his massive erection, I want him bad. I want him to satisfy this aching desire deep within my core.
For once, I decide to do the wrong thing because, with Mark, it always feels so damn right.
I press my palms to the cold cinder block, looking at Mark over my shoulder, as he pushes my skirt up around my hips, bunching it together. He moves my panties to the side, and before I have time to brace myself, he positions himself at my entrance and plunges inside me, filling me at once. Even after all the times we have had sex, it takes me a minute to adjust to his size, the pain from his thrusts slowly turning to pleasure. I moan, probably loud enough for people to hear on the other side of the door. But I couldn’t care less at this moment.
He grips my hips, his touch rough and hard, matching his movements, and grunts along with me. Taking my earlobe in his mouth, he sucks on it for a few seconds, the heat from his touch spreading down to my toes. Each kiss he leaves along my neck sets my skin on fire. With the pressure inside me building, I tighten around him. When I start to have trouble controlling my breathing and my screams become too loud, he places his hand over my mouth, fucking me harder and faster.
“Come for me…like a good girl,” he whispers against my ear.
I love when he says that to me because it’s so fucking hot. My heart races from the adrenaline pumping through my body, and I lose all control, forcing Mark to hold me in place, as a series of orgasms wrecks me, taking every ounce of energy I have left. With my cheek against the wall, I look at Mark, loving the sight of him once he finally comes. The sounds he makes are so fucking sexy that those alone could make my ovaries burst.
He pulls out of me and disposes of the condom in the trash can beside us before zipping his pants. I turn around and press my back flat against the wall, still unstable and barely functioning. My throat is raw from screaming into his hand. Whatever thoughts I have running through my head are incoherent, so I stand there and wait for him to speak first.
I keep making the same mistake with Mark. After each encounter, I want him more, but I hate the guilt. And then I hate myself for feeling guilty for desiring a man who satisfies my needs.
Gripping me by the waist, he lowers his mouth to mine, his tongue gliding across my lips before slipping into my mouth. Our two-second kiss makes my body tingle and my mind go blank, leaving me wanting more as our lips separate.
“You. Are. Mine. Got that?”
I nod, and he kisses me one last time.
Mark has ruined me. My body belongs to him. He’s fucked me, both physically and mentally, and I am not letting him go—no matter how many rules we are breaking.
MARK
“I can’t believe you’re tapping our professor.” Luca punches me in the arm with a wide smile on his face that shows his approval. “We both know your dumbass needs all the extra credit you can get.” He laughs into the crook of his elbow as we stroll through Strickland University, as if we own the fucking ground we walk on.
This university cares about two things—Greek life and athletics. Hunter and I meet both requirements. And Luca has Mafia connections that make him invincible. On this campus, we can do just about anything we want without getting into trouble. Sure, the dean hauls Luca into her office on occasion to deal with complaints from neighbors for noise and drinking violations, but that comes with the title of fraternity president. But, for the most part, we get away with murder.
“You’re just jealous because you have to bag the same chick for the rest of your life,” Hunter says, completely joking, smirking at Luca.
“Fuck you, bro.” Luca adjusts the strap of his bag, moving it higher up his shoulder, and holds on to it. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that, not when I have a girl like Izzie.”
“You’re one to talk,” I say to Hunter. “Our house used to be like the Playboy Mansion until you both turned into pussy-whipped assholes. At least I still know how to get it in—unlike you punks.”
“Maybe you’re the one who’s jealous,” Luca says to me, his expression serious.
I snicker. “Not a chance. I like my balls attached, thank you very much.”
Hunter’s cell phone rings, and he holds it up to his face, biting down on his bottom lip, concerned.
“What’s wrong? Did you forget to bring your girl her tampons?” I quip.
“Jerk,” he says. Then, he shows me his phone.
But it’s actually my phone and not Hunter’s. We have the same iPhone and mix them up on occasion. That means the one in my pocket is his, so I remove it from my pocket, and we switch phones.
“It’s Shawn’s crew. Looks like you have a problem.”
Glancing down at the screen, I clench my fist at my side and mutter, “His crew has two days to come up with the money before I make all of them my bitch,” I say this aloud, the comment directed to Tony, who texted me, even though he can’t hear me.
I am so angry that he didn’t get the money
upfront, per the usual.
“I told you to shut that shit down,” Luca growls. “You keep that up, and we’re all going to get pinched.”
“You’re not involved anymore,” I snap back, “and I’m done with bookmaking, so get off my ass.”
“What you’re doing is no different than taking bets on games or hustling college kids out of their trust funds. With racing out in the open, you have an ever better chance of getting caught.” Luca climbs up the stairs to Franklin Hall and swings the door open, irritated.
I follow behind him and hold the door for Hunter, who never opens his mouth when Luca and I get into this discussion. We’ve been friends for so long that we might as well be brothers, and we argue like we are blood. While I know Luca is saying this to protect me, I am a grown-ass man, and I can make my own decisions.
Luca cut off my lifeline the day he ended our monthly high-roller poker games and bookmaking operation. My savings account has been dwindling since then, considering I was only on a partial baseball scholarship my first two years at Strick U and I am stuck supporting my family.
“Well, unlike you, Luc, I have bills to pay and mouths to feed. I have to do whatever I can to survive.”
Most of my life, my dad has been in and out of jail, barely home long enough to put a meal on the table or keep my mother clean. For as far back as I can remember, I have taken care of my mother and sister by selling cigarettes, mixed tapes, and just about anything else I could get my hands on to turn a profit.
I never had a real childhood. Growing up with a best friend whose family ran the Philly Mafia, a criminal for a father, and a drunk for a mother, I had zero chance at normalcy. Baseball was my only saving grace, the one thing I could do outside my miserable house that I was not only good at, but also loved.
On our way through the building, we round the corner near our classroom and walk past a group of Kappa girls. The sorority girls’ faces light up, and a few wave in our direction.
Teach (City of Sinners Book 1) Page 6