Private Lessons (Deep Desires)

by Liza Mitchell

  Table of Contents

  Private Lessons

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER SIX

  Also by Liza mitchell

  About the Author

  Private Lessons

  Deep Desires

  Liza Mitchell

  Published by Feather & Bleed Press, 2019.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language that may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual. No one is related in this book.

  PRIVATE LESSONS

  Copyright © 2019 Liza Mitchell

  Edited by Jennifer at Mistress Editing

  Proofread by Paula Grundy

  CHAPTER ONE

  __________

  JADE

  Jade left the front office and turned right, glancing over her shoulder. The secretary had been kind but exceedingly unhelpful. It must have been her first day too. She’d barely been able to tell Jade where her office was, but Jade had already known that. She probably knew this building better than the architect did.

  “The faculty welcome meeting will be at noon, over lunch. I’ll be able to get you more answers then.”

  Perfect. It was seven thirty. She’d just… do what? For the next four hours.

  Jade headed to her office, the snap of her heels against the tiles echoing down the empty hallways. Meeting her coworkers was clearly off the table for a while. Though meeting her coworkers was what she'd been dreading the most.

  As she reached a stairwell, the sound of slow, heavy footsteps rose from the floor below. She bent her head and fixed her gaze upon the box of books she clutched firmly to her chest. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look up.

  “Jade Mulligan?”

  That voice. Her cheeks burned. “Yes,” she said, lifting her chin bit by bit.

  “I heard you were the new choral director. Welcome back.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Ostroski,” she said without slowing down. “I’m sorry, this is heavy. I’ll see you at the faculty meeting.” She glanced at his forehead rather than meeting his eyes and continued down the stairs without waiting for his response.

  She sped past a glass atrium and slipped into her office, closing the door behind her. The office was nothing more than a repurposed supply closet. Nothing had changed since she’d been a student at this school just a few years before. Against one wall stood an upright piano, and a small desk filled the length of the opposite wall. There was barely enough space between the two of them for a chair and a few students.

  An empty corkboard hung above the desk, her desk, and all four of the cinder-block walls were devoid of any decorations. A blank slate.

  Except, that’s not what Jade had. She had a history of seven years in this building. Living in rural America meant there was one middle school slash high school for the whole county. Finding her first job after graduation meant the exact same thing. She’d applied to every school within two hours of her hometown. Two. Hours.

  All of her friends told her not to come home, not to take the position. But so much more went into her decision. Student loans. Oversaturated job market. Cost of living. She hoped she could just work for a few years here, get her feet under her, and move the fuck on.

  She already felt like an imposter. She’d just finished her undergrad a few months ago, and now she was deemed ready for her own class. On top of that, her coworkers had been her teachers four short years ago. She could barely take herself seriously. How could she expect them to?

  It certainly didn’t help that she’d been a smart-mouthed little shit when she was a student here. Jade was fairly certain she’d been the only applicant for the job, or the board simply hadn’t asked the faculty for their opinions. Because she’d put every single one of them through the wringer. And now she was their equal—or something like it.

  She just wanted to keep her head down and get through today. The choir room and her office were far enough out of the way that she truly thought she could stay out of everyone’s way. She just wanted to stay quiet and hope that no one recognized her. But they did. He did. Word had clearly gotten around.

  And her first day started with a bang. Him. The one person she’d absolutely never wanted to run into. Mr. Ostrowski. Mr. O. Every single female student had a crush on him. And they hadn’t been shy about it, saying his name with a throaty moan or high-pitched sigh, trying to see who would push it the furthest. Mr. O never gave them the satisfaction of acknowledging their game, and they had taken it far. Too far. At sixteen, she’d had no shame and no boundaries.

  She’d had his class directly after lunch. She’d been a burnout, spending her free period smoking joints with some loose tobacco mixed in. Because that hid the smell. Dumbass. She’d stroll into class late and high, infuriating Mr. O.

  But he would close in on her, lecturing her about responsibilities and respect, and she would just get lost in his eyes, or her gaze would fall to his chest as she wondered what was hidden under his Oxford shirt. His rolled-up sleeves and exposed forearms hinted at what lay beneath the starched fabric.

  Her glazed eyes would add fuel to his fire. She’d always been way too baked to take in anything he was saying. Even if she hadn’t been, she knew better than he did, obviously. He’d call her out on smoking. She’d take a step back, move to take off her shirt, and offer to let him search her. She never knew when to stop. He’d throw her out of the classroom.

  That dance took place weekly. And now they were coworkers.

  She did have a speech prepared. An apology for Mr. Ostrowski. Though she certainly wasn’t ready to do it in the middle of the stairs on her first day.

  She’d spent so much time stressing about this job that she was pretty sure she’d shaved years off her life.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Just move forward. One foot in front of the other. She reached into her box of supplies for her coffee mug, only to discover it wasn’t there. She glanced around her closet-office. It must be on the secretary’s desk. She’d set it down to pick up a stack of papers.

  Her hand closed around the doorknob and pulled. It didn’t budge. She jerked her wrist, trying to twist the knob. It was locked in place.

  “No, no, no, no,” she whispered, desperately tugging and turning at random.

  She looked at the handle—there was a keyhole, but no other locking mechanism. What kind of door locks from the inside? It had been propped open, but there should be a fucking sign. The secretary hadn’t even been able to find the keys to her office. Maybe they were in the desk.

  Jade stopped pulling on the door and started opening the desk drawers, running her hands along the bottom and shoving them all the way to the back before slamming each drawer shut and moving on to the next one. Nothing.

  She scanned the corkboard, the top of the piano, anywhere a maintenance man or custodian would absentmindedly put down a set of keys.

  Should she yell for help? Call the school
secretary? Fuck, no. She would never get over that embarrassment. Never. What were her options? Stay in here until she missed the lunch meeting, and maybe someone would come looking for her, and she could just pretend she didn’t know she’d been locked in?

  Well, she could unpack and see if the piano was in tune. That would postpone the locked door problem… fifteen minutes? Jade turned to her box and started unloading books when she heard the lock click.

  “Oh, thank goodness…” she said excitedly, spinning to face the door. She froze. Her heart climbed into her throat and halted there when she heard the door slam shut again.

  “Miss Mulligan.”

  That voice.

  CHAPTER TWO

  __________

  DANE

  Jade. Her name matched her eyes.

  She’d been a nightmare as a student—obstinate, disrespectful, forbidden.

  They’d gone toe to toe for years. Somewhere along the way, he started fantasizing what it would be like to discipline her. The only thing he could do was send her away, down to the principal. He didn’t want to send her away—he wanted to bring her closer. Bring her to her knees. Search every last one of her hiding spots. He wouldn’t have been looking for her weed.

  Every new class had some ridiculous and obnoxious way to mock him. None of them were new. He’d been teaching long enough to have heard it all. Jade’s class played an insipid game of chick panting and gasping while they called his name across the gym or raised their hand in the classroom. Mr. Ohhh. He still remembered Jade’s breathy, high-pitched squeals, like moaning out of a bad porno.

  When he got his hands on her, her screams would come from deep within her very core. She would cry his name as he showed her just how much of her respect he deserved.

  When he got his hands on her, not if.

  Dane had staked out the bar in town every single summer, every Christmas and spring break, waiting for her to come home and walk in. She never did. People talked. She never came back from the city. She’d gotten too good for their small town. She was going to try to be a star and never look back. But people always talk.

  And soon their gossip turned to excitement. Jade was coming back home. She could have gone anywhere, done anything, and she was going to teach. Usually, Dane didn’t put much stock into gossip. But he vetted this story because it brought her back to him.

  He stalked through the halls, winding his way to her office, climbing the stairs from his basement classroom, and almost ran right into… “Jade Mulligan?”

  His eyes raked over her. She was better than he’d remembered, but she clearly still loved to push buttons. The length of her pencil skirt and conservative neckline of her skin-fucking-tight shirt would make almost anyone believe that she’d decided to dress like a young professional. But he knew better. That skirt was fucking painted on her. Every boy in her class would go home and jerk off thinking about her ass. She knew what she was doing.

  Her hair fell around her face, hiding her eyes. He wanted to grab her chin and force her to look at him. But she just stared into the box in her arms as she scurried down the steps.

  Dane stopped short. What was this act? He stepped in front of her. “I heard you were the new the choral director. Welcome back.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Ostrowski,” she said without slowing down. “I’m sorry, this is heavy. I’ll see you at the faculty meeting.” Jade glanced briefly at him. Her eyes were wide… innocent?

  He turned to watch her slip into her office, slamming the door behind her.

  Jade thought she could pull the wool over his eyes. She was wrong. He knew her. She was probably leaned against her door with some smug look on her face, thinking that she’d just put him in his place, treating him like he didn’t matter.

  He would set her straight. He would teach her what exactly was expected in her new position… Oh fuck, the positions he would put her in. This might be the hardest school year yet.

  When she was a student, he’d had boundaries, limits. There was also an end in sight to his torment. Now she was an adult, in the same building as him, all day, every day. How could he not spend every free period fucking her? Especially if she continued to wear that damned skirt. Those curves weren’t there years ago.

  Every straight man in the building would get to leer at her. He was going to spend the next year somehow ignoring their longing looks, the jokes made behind her back. His fingers already itched to punch the hypothetical horny boys. He’d need to control himself.

  The rattling of metal echoing down the hallway jerked him back to reality. Low thuds accompanied the higher-pitched snaps and jingles—all coming from Jade’s door.

  Dane walked to her office, trying to figure out what new game she was playing messing around with her door. The noises stopped as he reached out, testing the handle. Locked. Had she locked the door and checked to make sure? Why was she locking herself away? She couldn’t escape him that easily. He pulled out his keys, finding the school’s skeleton key—decades of teaching at the same school had its perks.

  He opened the door, closing it behind him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  __________

  JADE

  “You just locked us in,” she whispered.

  “I did?” He raised an eyebrow and took a step toward her.

  He was bigger than she remembered. When they’d passed on the stairs, she hadn’t really stopped to take him in. Now he stood between her and the rest of the world, and he could have blacked out the sun.

  “You and I have some unfinished business, Jade.” He narrowed his eyes, and his tongue skimmed along his bottom lip. “You spent years keeping me in hell. And now, I can do everything I ever dreamed of doing to that argumentative girl.”

  He closed in on her slowly, a dark look on his face. Her heart raced. He could break her in two. She had no way out. But he wouldn’t really hit her, would he? Jade backed up slowly, trying to keep some distance between them, until she ran into her desk. Trapped.

  “All of the punishments I wanted to dole out.” He placed his hands on either side of her and lowered his face to hers. “All the lessons I wanted to teach you,” he ground out. “You’re going to be sore for days, and then I’ll do it all over again until you’ve been thoroughly educated.”

  That’s it. She straightened up and pushed him away with all of her strength. “Back off,” she barked. Unfortunately, he was a fucking tank, and she was wearing completely impractical heels that just slid along the floor when she shoved his chest.

  “I know that I was disrespectful, and I’m sorry. I even had a whole apology prepared. But you… you can’t just come in here and threaten to… what? Smack my hands with a ruler? Beat me up? What is wrong with you? I’m your coworker now.”

  She lifted her chin and stared at him defiantly. She wouldn’t let him see any of the insecurity she felt in this new job. She may have been an asshole as a student. She probably deserved some of his disdain… maybe even some of his punishments. But he didn’t get to come into her office and scare her like this.

  He met her gaze unflinchingly—shit, shit, shit—and reached his hands toward her. She tried to jerk away from him, but she was caged into a little corner between the wall, the desk, and… His fingers closed around her waist.

  “Mr. Ostrowski, get your hands off of me!”

  “Dane, call me Dane,” he growled. “And I’m not here to smack you with a ruler, though I don’t think a sound spanking would be out of the question.”

  “What?” Her mind raced as he picked her up and set her on the desk. His hands traveled up her body, sending shivers down her spine. They paused when they reached her breasts. His thumbs skimmed over her nipples. She only wore a thin bralette, and her sensitive skin responded eagerly to his touch. Too eagerly.

  “You’re not wearing a bra. You just want every man falling at your knees. That’s going to change.” He closed his fingers around her nipples roughly, teasing heat through her body. Fire surged through her chest to her flushe
d cheeks with each movement of his hands.

  Her head swam, and she couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. She used to dream of him taking her like this. But this was happening too fast.

  “Wait a minute,” she said, forcing her way off the desk by jamming her shoulder into his chest and swinging her arms and legs wildly. Her toe made contact with something solid, but Dane only let out an inconvenienced grunt in response.

  She didn’t even win a second to think before he closed his hands around her swinging arms, turned her around, and pressed her body against the desk. “You need to calm down,” he whispered into her ear.

  “How the hell am I supposed to calm down?” she asked as she struggled against his hold. He had her trapped. Arms locked behind her back, chest pressed to her desk. “You came storming in here, scaring the shit out of me, talking about teaching lessons then put your hands all over me without asking, and you think I’m supposed to be calm? Fuck you.”

  “Tell me you didn’t like it,” he said quietly as he dragged his hand up her leg, his rough fingers grazing over her knee and snaking their way up the front of her thigh, taking her skirt with them.

  “That’s not the point.” Tell him to stop. Jade’s heart pounded in her chest. She’d touched herself so many times in her car, running late from her lunch period. Stoned and daydreaming about him. Why should he stop? The door is locked.

  “Tell me you deserve it,” he whispered as he stepped aside and worked her skirt up and over her hips with one hand while the other still held tightly to her wrists.

  “Deserve what?” she asked breathlessly. “I definitely deserve to come,” she taunted, arching her back and shifting her legs, expecting to feel his fingers between her legs, pushing her thong to the side…

  “You don’t deserve that yet. You haven’t earned it.” His hand spread across her ass, cupping one of her cheeks and squeezing gently.