The Teacher Page 4

  I drew my arm up, my hand hovering inches from his chiseled jaw. I didn’t know why I bothered fighting it. I couldn’t help myself when it came to Chance. I couldn’t stay away from him. I exhaled when my hand connected with his skin, static electricity furling and unfurling around us.

  I moved closer, feeling his solid chest tight against mine, looking up into the eyes I craved. "I don't want you to leave."

  His lips curved into a smile that was pure sex. "What do you want?"

  I hooked a finger through his belt loop, feeling bold. "Maybe we could pick up where we left off." I blinked up at him. "A little BDSM 101?"

  His smirk broadened into a grin predatory enough to make the big bad wolf green with envy. "You sure?"

  I chewed on my bottom lip and kicked myself since I was falling back into one of my nervous ticks that screamed I was anything but sure. "Uh huh."

  He traced my jawline, barely touching me but consuming me all the same. "And if I told you I was being easy on you before-" His finger diverted to my collarbone, swirling up and over the length. "-would your answer still be 'uh huh'?"

  I thought back to the bizarre power play in his office, not being able to move or speak while he touched me. The battle of being still while lust and desire stormed inside gave me the most powerful orgasm I'd ever experienced. I was wary about what submitting would mean then but now, the curiosity won out. "Yes."

  I hitched a breath as he gently raked his fingers along the lines of my deep brown strands, sending tingles along my scalp. He gripped my ponytail holder and pulled it downward, sending my greasy hair spilling down my back.

  His eyes penetrated as he brought me close. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  I blushed, looking away. I could never take a compliment well. But he turned my head back to those eyes that slayed me.

  “Don’t look away, Cass. I want you to hear everything I have to say.” He rounded the curve of my breast, circling my hardened nipples beneath my shirt. “I want you to feel everything—and vocalize it.”

  “V-Vocalize it?” I said, pressing my toes into the rug as his fingers pinched the hardened peak. When his other hand gripped the other, I let out a low whine.

  “That’s a good start,” he said with an approving grin. “But I want you to completely surrender to me and the needs of your body.” He tightened his hold on my nipples and I grimaced as his voice deepened. “Use your words, Cass. How does it feel?”

  “Uncomfortable,” I said in a tiny voice. When the pressure intensified, I remedied. “Painful.”

  He loosened slightly and released one breast, but hunger flexed in his expression as he took his free hand and shoved it down the front of my yoga pants. I knew where he was headed, but I still gasped in surprise when his fingers tugged my underwear to the side. I was already dripping wet and from his growl, he knew it too.

  He was flicking at my nipple as a finger began measuring my slit. “Talk to me, Cassandra.”

  I opened my mouth and snapped it shut, having to grip him to keep from sinking to his feet. “It feels good,” I said weakly.

  "Just good, huh?" he murmured softly as his fingers built a steady rhythm.

  I let out a long, throaty moan, the sound jarring, too wild to have come from me. We never talked during sex before, too busy stripping away the pieces that kept us apart before crashing into each other.

  But now he was asking, no ordering me to do more than let my body talk. To allow myself to feel every flicker of passion and break it down to its hows and whys. Like the way my breathing was jagged, coming in gasps as he pressed deeper inside me. But it was more than just the fingers in my quivering hole--it was my hands against his chest, feeling the solid muscle firm against my fingertips. It was his face, harsh and romantic, stern and loving. Even though we'd been together countless times before, this was different because I could feel the passion. I could surrender and lose myself and open my mouth and tell him just how he made me feel.

  "I want to tell you to stop," I said, my voice ragged. "It's intense. Too intense." He began to slow the beat and I let out a mewl, leaning in toward him, moaning when he hit a whole new angle. "But don't stop..."

  His eyes glittered. "Why not?"

  "I couldn't bear it. There’s nothing like it.” I trailed off, my eyes rolling in the back of my head as he added another finger and I strained around it, whimpering. It was all I could do to hold my orgasm at bay with nerve endings firing right and left. Invigorating me. Weakening me.

  I moved my hips against him, pleasure ricocheting in and out of me in time with his pumps. “Right there,” I purred. “It feels amazing. Oh God, Chance. Oh God.” I was standing in the middle of the living room, my hands on his shoulders, nails digging in as I rolled my body into him, riding his fingers, taking him deeper. I knew I was getting to the point where I’d only be able to make sounds. To the point where everything else would fade except for the blast of release.

  His free hand grabbed a mass of my hair and he pulled my head back, forcing me to look into those golden eyes glittering like molten gold, hardening with lust.

  “Do you love me, Cassandra?”

  The question should have knocked all the wind from my sails. Ruined the heat in one fell swoop. But I was still tingling with want and more lucid than I had ever been. It was why I’d been so furious when I saw him at the front of the class at the beginning of the semester; why seeing him with the blond cut so deep. It was the same reason he could make me so angry I could scream. I loved him. I never stopped loving him.

  When I said the words he scooped me up and took me to the room. I felt hollow without him inside me, watching and yearning as he unzipped and pulled off his clothing and I wriggled out of mine. I looked at his full nakedness, his body just as beautiful as I remembered. Beneath the dim light his tanned skin shone, muscled and fluid. My eyes drew to his erection and I bit my lip as I took in the hardened length, veins bulging just beneath the skin.

  He moved to the bed, sliding between my open thighs. He didn’t thrust inside of me, even though I knew he ached to. He brought his hand to my cheek, caressing it as he studied me. It was like he was committing every inch of my face, every part of me to memory.

  In that moment I knew that even though we’d been together, this was something new. This would be like the first time all over again.

  He positioned himself between my legs and with one full stroke he plunged into me. He filled me so wholly and completely that I cried out, arching into the bliss. Whenever I closed my eyes he’d grip my chin, telling me to open them. To feel this. To not miss a single thing. And I did—I felt everything and it was so beautiful, so powerful that it brought tears to my eyes.

  I was no longer numb.

  ****

  I could hear Chance's steady breathing beside me, still fast asleep. I'd barely shut my eyes for longer than thirty minutes, sure that I'd wake up alone and last night was just a figment of my imagination. But he never left my side, his earthy smell and even an arm enveloping me, reminding me that it wasn't a fantasy.

  It was freaky how that didn't freak me out; that I wasn't pushing him out of bed with some excuse about classes and homework. But I guess it wasn't that hard to figure out with last night still fresh and writhing in my head. No one knew me as well as Chance and he knew I was holding back, holding onto pain over Dad. I just never knew I could use the bdsm stuff as an outlet. A way to finally face it head on and give in to the pain.

  I cast a look back at Chance, smirking when he stirred before settling back into the covers. I closed the bedroom door with a muted click and turned to face the devastation that was my living room.

  I could practically hear the signature screech from that Psycho movie reverberating in my ears as I surveyed the damage. I didn’t know if it was the light of day or finally facing the truth that opened my eyes, but I suddenly wasn’t very hungry anymore.

  “Well it is Saturday,” I said aloud, to no one in particular. Saturdays were always my mother�
��s go-to days for scouring the house from head to toe. I pretty much had the same view on cleaning as my father did. There were a million other things I could do that didn’t include rubber gloves and disinfectant.

  With a weary sigh I got to it, grabbing a plastic shopping bag that skated past my feet like a tumble weed and began filling it with trash. After twenty minutes, ten bags were in a bundle near the door along with the remains of five potted plants.

  I was slipping on my Rainbows when the door knocker rattled. I stepped over the precarious heap, expecting to see maintenance finally getting around to my work order about the ceiling fan, but it was my mother that blinked back at me, standing patiently with a bag of Chick Fil A in hand.

  My mother, who hated Chance’s guts, was standing outside while he slept soundly in the next room.

  I jumped when she hit the door again, this time loud enough that everyone in the damn building could hear it. I couldn’t pretend I was out because there was no mistaking my Bug in the parking lot, and her banging would make the whole “I was asleep” defense impossible.

  “Who’s that?”

  I whipped around to face the husky voice, to shush him, but ended up running into a recycling bin full of empty wine cooler bottles. Chance was wiping the sleep from his eyes, then looking at me with confusion because I was frozen in horror.

  The knocker clanged again, with a force that should have broken the thing off in her hand. “Cassandra?”

  Realization drew all the color from Chance’s face. “Your mother?” he mouthed.

  “Yes,” I hissed accusatorily. I let out a groan and took a step toward the door, still trying to figure out how to minimize the inevitable drama. “One second, Mom!”

  I bulldozed toward him and he quickly stepped back into my bedroom. I didn’t even have to explain how bad this could get.

  “I’ll just grab a shirt and-”

  “And what?” I interrupted. “Bond with my mother over breakfast?”

  “Why not?” He looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “If this is because I slept over, I think your mom knows you’re an adult and knows how the birds and the bees works.”

  I chunked his shirt at him. “This isn’t about sex, Chance.”

  He gave me a wolfish grin. “That’s too bad because I’m game with going back to bed and pretending you’re not home.”

  I zipped my hoodie up to my chin and crossed my arms tight against my chest. I didn’t want him to see that my nipples were screaming a resounding, “Yes!”

  “Yeah, keep dreaming because if my mother knew you were in here, she’d probably make sure you didn’t have sex with anyone ever again.”

  His face went serious. “I thought your Mom liked me.”

  “Well she didn’t hate you,” I said pointedly. “At least not until I told her you cheated on me.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “Jesus. Last night…I almost forgot.” He cut his eyes at me. “Cassandra-”

  I softened, seeing the remorse line his handsome face. “I know. But it’s going to take my mother a bit to accept that we’re back together. I wanted to ease my way back into it, not jump head first into the deep end.”

  He nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “I’ll make up something. Say I have an appointment or I’m not feeling well.” I folded my hair behind my ear, fidgeting because asking him to hide out had something unsettling high school about it. “If you could just hang in here…”

  “Say no more,” he said with a tiny smile.

  I went back to the living room, maneuvering around the bags like they were land mines. The thing was, the real battle was about to begin.

  I opened the door and she gave me a bright grin, holding up her bounty. “Chick Fil A and that ridiculously complicated coffee you like!”

  I managed a smile of my own as I stepped to the side and let her past. “Wow, uh…you shouldn’t have!” Really.

  Her smile dropped like a bad habit as she walked past me, her eyes widening as she looked around. “Cassandra…”

  “I’ve been cleaning up!” I said quickly, blushing as she started fishing in her purse for her hand sanitizer.

  “This place looks just as horrible as it did when I came over last week.”

  "It doesn't look exactly like it did last week," I retorted. Maybe it wasn't obsessively spotless like her house, but I thought the ability to turn and navigate without being blocked in by a stack of stuff was progress.

  She put the bag on the counter with a tight, 'yeah right' smile. "Well I figured we could do breakfast. Unless you’re busy."

  There was something else behind her last sentence, but I ignored it, trying to figure out a way to shepherd her back out. "Uh, thanks Mom! The thing is I ate something weird last night and I probably shouldn't do anything heavy."

  "It's just a biscuit, not Thanksgiving dinner," she frowned. "You’re not feeling well?"

  I tried on a sickly looking expression and nodded.

  “Vomiting?”

  I reddened, hoping that Chance was too busy contemplating how bad it would be if Mom spotted him to hear the next part. "It's actually, uh, the other end."

  "Oh I’m sorry sweetheart," she said sympathetically. She turned toward the kitchen. "You have any soup or chicken broth?" She didn't wait for an answer before she began opening and closing cabinets. She brought out two packs of oodles of noodles. "I can whip some of this up for you."

  "That's okay," I said quickly. "I'm not really hungry."

  "Don't be silly," she said, shuffling through my sink for a pot. "The people downstairs probably heard your stomach grumbling." She pulled it out with an ‘aha!’ and swiped the dish detergent. "Why don't you go lay back down. You look exhausted."

  "But Mom-"

  "Cassandra." It wasn't a request.

  I stood there awkwardly for a minute then took a few hesitant steps toward my room, stopping when the ring of a cell cut through the door. Chance's cell.

  "You gonna get that?" Mom said over the water.

  "Uh huh just a-"

  "But your phone's right here." The water snapped off and I paled as I turned back to face her. She held up my Iphone with the signature composition book style cover. And Chance's phone was still hollering.

  "Whose phone is that?" She asked, wiping her hands with a paper towel and moving toward my bedroom.

  I took a step toward the door, creating a barrier. "Alicia probably left hers here. We had dinner last night."

  "Huh," Mom grunted, giving me a long, curious look. "That's really interesting since she called me this morning to invite me to dinner tonight." When I didn't say anything, she pressed on, her curiosity fading as she put it all together. "Just us girls. So we could talk about Chance Crawford teaching at --"

  I hung my head. "Mom, let me explain-"

  "Chance is in your bedroom, isn't he?"

  "Mom-"

  "Tell him to come out here, Cassandra."

  I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "He can stop hiding, Cass," she said with exasperation. "I'm not going to bludgeon him to death for crissakes."

  I didn’t budge, not sure she wasn’t goin. “No I-”

  “Hello, Mrs. Woods.”

  My first instinct was to usher him back in the room and usher my mother out, but his face was impassive and fierce. Even his eyes burned like flames, commanding attention. Strength. Power.

  Mom was slightly taken aback too, this Chance starkly different from the quiet brooding one she'd known before. But she recovered quickly, squaring her shoulders. "Chance."

  A long, awkward filled silence expanded in the room as they each just stared, waiting for the other to make the first move.

  "I was just telling Cassandra that Alicia shared that you were back in town."

  "That's right," Chance said smoothly. "I'm teaching English at --."

  "Isn't that interesting," Mom said, her cold expression saying it was anything bu
t. "I'd almost forgotten you were old enough to teach college level courses."

  "Mom," I said with warning. She was pretty much calling him an old, crusty professor.

  "It's okay," Chance said with a chuckle just as frigid as Mom's jab. "Three years is a long time."

  "Not really," she fired back. "I can still remember the relief from your abrupt departure like it was yesterday."

  I glared at her and she gave me a shrug of innocence. "I won't insult anyone by pretending it didn't happen."

  I looked up at Chance, expecting to see nostrils flaring, a jaw so sharp it could cut but he didn't look like he was struggling to keep his composure at all.

  "If I could take back what I did, how I hurt your daughter, I would," he said. "I hope I can earn your forgiveness and someday, earn back your trust."

  There was something so moving, so earnest in his voice that I threaded my fingers into his, gripping his hand tight.

  Mom looked at him then down at our hands and back at me. "Well, I see you have my daughter's forgiveness, and that's really all that matters." She turned on her heels, suddenly in a grave hurry. "I was just dropping off some breakfast and I'll leave you two to it." She went out the door, not even bothering to close it behind her.

  Chance let out a heavy sigh. "That went well."

  "Ugh," I muttered, leaning my head against his arm. There wasn't a body count so I guess that was good.

  "You should go after her."

  "What?" I said rearing back. "She's clearly throwing some sort of tantrum. She needs space. Time."

  He cupped my cheek, gazing at me intently. "She lost your father and now she's losing you to your bastard, cradle-robbing ex."

  "Our age gap is the same as my parents!" I said indignantly. "And she's not losing me."

  "I think she needs to hear that from you."

  "Well I think-"

  "Do I need to order you to do it?" He said, swapping my butt playfully. "Go talk to your mom so I can take you back to bed."

  My sex clenched in anticipation and he gave me a ravenous look that made me blush wildly, much to his amusement.

  "Fine."