I hustle to the teachers’ lounge, sweat coating my lower back and my hands trembling.
He’s my fucking student, he’s my fucking student, he’s my fucking student.
Oh, this is bad. Bad, bad, badbadbad.
I don’t bother going to the cafeteria to get anything to eat in fear I’ll run into him again, and he’ll see that my composure and confidence was all an act. I’m freaking the fuck out.
I feel like my throat is swelling, threatening to cut off all access to oxygen.
This is so fucking bad.
I push through the entrance to the teachers’ lounge, my chest rising and falling too quickly, and when the room is finally empty, I blow out a heavy breath and lean against the wall.
My head falls forward. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
My ass slides against the wall until I’m kneeling and I can drop my head between my knees to calm my racing heart. My entire life flashes across my mind; every achievement I made in school, all the money my parents spent on my education, it’ll all disappear into thin air if someone finds out. It doesn’t matter if he’s legal, it won’t fucking matter, because you can’t fuck your student and live to tell the tale.
I will lose everything the moment he breathes a word of this to anyone – given he hasn’t already. Maybe I just sat through three class periods and all my students already know, maybe I’m lunchtime gossip for every teenager in this building right now. Maybe I’m the fucking punchline already.
That thought makes my chest heave again, and I stand up straight to walk over to the makeshift kitchen counter along the far wall. Grabbing an empty coffee mug from the shelf, I turn the tap for the cold water and fill it. I down the entire mugful without a breath, then I slam it down on the counter.
No. I am not going to let this ruin my life.
I am not going to play victim right now.
I made the decisions that led me here, and I can survive this.
I say a quiet prayer that he takes my words seriously and stays away from me, pretends he and I never met, and I can start fresh without this hanging over my head.
I’m not going to torture myself with this until the guillotine finally falls and chops me in half.
Taking one last deep breath, I tuck my hair behind my ears and run my hands down the front of my skirt.
I walk to one of the tables and sit down, planning to ride out the rest of the lunch period without another worry.
After a minute, the door opens and a few teachers come in, the woman I met this morning, Lucy, being one of them.
“Hey!” she greets me, a thin man with dark skin trailing behind her, his mouth curved into a smile.
Lucy drops the box of pizza she’s holding on the table I’m at, and then sits down. “Lawrence, this is Penelope. Penelope, Lawrence.”
He sits, then holds a hand towards me. “Great to meet you.”
Clasping his hand, I find his eyes and return his smile. “Likewise.”
Flipping the box of pizza open, Lucy gives me a sympathetic look. “How’s your first day going?”
A few more people trickle into the lounge, but no one else sits at the table we’re occupying. I give Lucy a soft smile. “It’s fine.”
Lawrence laughs, biting into a slice of pizza. “That bad?”
Lucy chuckles. “Lawrence works in the office. If he was more polite, he would have introduced himself, but I think he’s gotten used to me being his buffer.”
“Because you like to talk,” Lawrence says around his food.
I laugh, admiring how close they seem. They move together like friends, like they’ve known each other a long time. “Lucy, I don’t think you told me what you teach.”
“Oh,” she says, moving her blonde hair over her shoulder so it doesn’t hang in her food. “Math.”
“Wow, impressive,” I say, my lips tipping down in the corners.
She rolls her eyes playfully. “I’m the cheerleading coach too. Bet you didn’t think those two things could go together, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I laugh, and she sends me a wink.
We fall into conversation, and they offer me some pizza, and before I know it, I’ve traded phone numbers with both of them. It feels nice to make friends, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders when I realize maybe I can fit into this role after all.
Just as long as Hayden Monroe keeps his mouth shut.
The final bell of the day rings overhead, and the students in our last class all stand in unison, eager to get out of school. Mrs. Justice made it obvious we have a pop quiz to create tonight, so I don’t stand when everyone else does.
Once the room has cleared, I drag my chair over to Mrs. Justice’s desk, and we start on the quiz.
An hour later, we’ve finalized the questions, and I’ve typed them up on my computer. I print a copy, and then show it to Mrs. Justice.
She takes the paper, reads it over, and nods her head at me before handing it back.
Before I can turn around, she speaks.
“How was your first day, Penelope?”
The question catches me off guard because I didn’t expect her to care. I didn’t expect her to ever talk to me about anything other than class stuff, so I stumble over my response.
“I – Um, it was good.” I smile, and it feels fake. I’m exhausted, ready to head home and climb into a bath with a glass of wine.
Her gaze trails along my face before she speaks again. “It will get easier.”
The sentence almost makes my eyes well with tears. There’s something so beautiful about an angry, unpleasant person showing compassion, and even though she doesn’t know the real reason my day was such a suckfest, her words hit home.
I clear my throat. “Thank you, Mrs. Justice.”
She narrows her eyes a little. “You can call me Barbara.”
“Oh.” My brows shoot up to my hairline. “Okay – Barbara.”
She takes a breath and places her hands on top of one another on her desk. “You did well today, Penelope. Even when some students were disruptive, or made it seem like you were small, I was impressed with your composure.”
She isn’t wrong, and I didn’t realize she would have noticed the little things students did throughout the day that were meant to make me feel inferior – mentioning how young I am, commenting about my looks, refusing to learn my name. Barbara may be more observant than I originally thought.
“Thank you.” I smile softly. “That means a lot.”
She nods, holding her hand out for our pop quiz. “Yes, well, why don’t you let me take that to make some copies, you go home.”
I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t mind –”
Barbara cuts me off, “I was a young thing like you once. I know how hard the first day is. Go home and relax.”
Her kindness is making me feel uneasy, mainly because I had already shoved her into a box labeled unfriendly, do not engage.
I hand her the quiz. “I’ll see you tomorrow, thank you again.”
She nods without a word, dismissing me, so I go back to my desk to gather my stuff. I move quickly, tossing my phone into my purse and throwing it over my shoulder, more than ready to get home and leave this day behind me.
I call one more goodnight to Barbara over my shoulder as I leave, then I head for the parking lot.
It’s nearing five, so the sun is hanging a little lower in the sky but still blasting heat and blinding rays over the blacktop of the parking lot, so I dig in my bag as I’m nearing where I parked and pull out my sunglasses.
When I’m slipping them on my face, I look forward again and notice someone leaning against the driver’s side door of my car.
His tattooed arms are crossed over his chest, as always, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he gazes off into the distance of the parking lot.
Before he can notice me, I press a button on my key fob, making the loud alarm for my car ring out. He jumps, the cigarette falling to the ground before he turns around to look at me. I can’t help the laughter that escapes me as I press the button again to stop the alarm.
Hayden’s mouth kicks up into a humored smile, and he walks two steps to meet me at the trunk of my car. “You scared the shit out of me.”
I don’t look at him, just keep walking toward the driver’s side. “Don’t lean on my car, I just had it detailed.”
He follows close behind me, and before I can pull the handle on my door to open it, his hands fall to the metal to stop me. “Did you have a good day?”
I can feel the heat from his body behind me as he cages me against the car, so I do my best not to move a centimeter. I sigh, “What do you want?”
“You,” he says, his mouth pressing against the hair on the back of my head.
“We’re standing in the parking lot, Hayden. Someone could see us.” Fear races across my skin as my eyes search the lot for bystanders. Most of the cars are gone for the day, leaving only a few here and there.
“Isn’t that what makes it fun?” he answers, his voice a husky whisper that makes my core clench.
“No,” I say, not trusting myself to say anything else. I don’t want to accidentally admit that the thought of being here with him creates such a burning need in my veins that I may turn to liquid. I can’t tell him that I love the pinch of anxiety in my chest, that I love the way his body feels this close to mine.
Maybe I’m a glutton for everything to turn to chaos, maybe I’m sick in the fucking head, because I want to turn around and kiss him. I want to slam him against the side of my car and devour him until the world falls away around us.
Hayden kisses my hair, his hands turning to fists against the shiny black metal of my car. He presses his body closer, rubbing his thickening cock against my ass, and I hate myself for moaning at the contact. Kissing down the back of my hair, he groans. “You drive me fucking wild, do you know that?”
I press my lips together, not wanting to speak.
He rolls his hips against my backside. “I want to lift up this little skirt, drop to my knees and eat your pussy till everyone still inside school can hear you screaming my fucking name.”
Holding my breath, I bite down on my bottom lip.
“Would you like that, Miss Leyton?” He gyrates his hips once more, pressing so hard against me that the front of my body hits the side of my car.
I feel my panties dampen, and I bite my teeth into my lip to keep a whimper at bay. My heart pounds in my chest so thunderously that I can feel it vibrating through my entire body, but I don’t dare say one word to him in response. I can’t.
“What if I just spread you open and drive my cock inside of you until you can’t fucking resist me anymore?” he growls, his tone sounding heated and impatient. “I wonder if someone will walk out here and see you falling apart underneath your student.”
I tense from head to toe, then use all my strength to push back against him, trying to get him off me. He’s quick, though, pressing himself into me harder, keeping me plastered against the car.
“Why are you fighting this?” he grunts, his face falling into my hair again. “I bet if I slid my hand between your legs, you’d be soaked through to your thighs right now.”
I let out a heavy exhale. “You’re wrong.”
He chuckles. “Should I check to make sure you’re not telling me lies, P?”
I press my thighs together instinctively, and he laughs again.
“That’s what I thought.”
My body buzzes with anticipation, almost begging silently for him to follow through, to position himself between my legs and impale me until everything around us fizzles to nothing. But there’s that little reminder in the back of my mind of our location, the fact that, at any moment, someone could walk out here and see us. That’s what keeps me solid and standing instead of melted into a puddle at his feet.
A heartbeat passes between us, then he pulls back to give me room to turn around, keeping one hand on the frame of the car next to me.
I spin to face him, finding his dark eyes filled with lust, and it makes my breath catch in my throat. Pressing my lips together, I find myself whispering, “Please.”
His gaze trails down my body, then back up to my eyes. “Please what?”
The hand hanging at his side turns into a fist, and then unclenches, his fingers wiggling like he’s trying to get blood flow back into them. I look at his mouth, so red and tense, like he’s been chewing on his lips, and I pull some oxygen in through my nose.
When I find his eyes again, his pupils have grown, and he looks ravenous, like he’s a lion staring at its next meal.
“Please what, Penelope?” he asks again, his voice like gravel and stones scraping against his throat.
Shaking my head, I swallow the saliva in my mouth. “Please leave me alone.”
His face falls, his hungry confidence disappearing, replaced by that humored grin that makes me want to smack him.
Before he can say anything, I take a step to the side so I’m no longer underneath the warm shadow of his body. He turns, though, looking at me like he’s ready to chase me wherever I go.
“This cannot happen here,” I say, waving my hand toward the school.
His brows furrow, and it catches me by surprise. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who would ever be confused; the fact he would ever show such a human emotion is almost laughable. He sees the laughter start to break through my features, and he steps toward me, ready to pounce again.
I chuckle, stepping back and out of his reach.
“Be very careful with your words, P. What do you mean?” He narrows his eyes like he’s annoyed he even has to ask for clarification.
“I think I made myself incredibly clear all day long, Hayden.” I thread my fingers together, digging my nails into the skin of my knuckles.
He points one tattooed finger at me. “Your mouth says one thing, and your body says another.”
I press my lips together. “My pussy doesn’t know we aren’t supposed to like you yet. I still need to talk to her about it.”
He laughs, his head falling back.
“I could help you tell her, if you want, we have a really close relationship.” He shrugs, that cocky smirk pulling at his lips as he steps closer to me and grabs me by the hips.
I groan, feeling defeated that I let him get close enough to grab me again. My voice is breathy when I answer him. “It’s fine. I can handle it on my own.”
He leans forward and captures my mouth with his, catching me off guard enough that my lips fall open on a moan. Taking advantage, he slips his tongue against mine, and the silk of the muscle makes my clit pulse between my legs.
I can’t help it, I kiss him back, keeping my hands threaded together between us while he uses his own large hands to explore my hips and waist.
I want to push him away and pull him closer at the same time, almost like I have an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, and they’re fighting each other for dominance.
When Hayden flicks his tongue against the roof of my mouth and his hand slides under the fabric of my skirt at my ass, the devil wins.
Every nerve ignites, burning hot enough that my lower back starts to sweat. My skin vibrates with pleasure in every place he touches, even as he just makes little circles against my backside with his fingers. I want to scream, beg, laugh, say no and yesyesyes at the same goddamn time.
Reality slams into me without warning, making me yank my lips from his and step backwards. He stares at me, his lips wet and his chest heaving. His fists clench at his sides, and his gaze sticks to me like glue.
“Come home with me,” he says, taking a tiny step toward me.
I shake my head, taking the same sized step backwards. “No. I can’t. We can’t.”
He presses his eyes closed and sighs, his head dropping back a little. “You’re starting to piss me off.”
I choke on a laugh, but when he looks at me again, he isn’t smiling. He looks like he’s in so much pain that I almost reach out for him. He’s not used to not getting what he wants, he’s not used to no.
I shake my head, scoffing. “Go home, Hayden.”
His nostrils flare as he pushes another breath through his nose, and his teeth press into his top lip as he opens his eyes to look at me again.
“Meet me tonight.” Mischief and malice twinkle in his gaze, his lips curving into a grin. “We can play pretend I’m not me and you’re not you. We can be whoever we want to be outside of here.”
I shake my head, heat spreading over my neck as I start to grow angry at his persistence. “When morning comes, we’ll still be us. Maybe you’re too stubborn and spoiled to understand that.”
He laughs, his words slipping from his lips in a husky and humored whisper. “Stubborn and spoiled?”
Before I can spit the retort on my tongue, he speaks again.
“I don’t mind a chase, Penelope.” He rubs his tattooed hands together at his center, his eyes glittering with pleasure. “In fact, I’ll quite enjoy it.”
A shiver runs down my spine as I inspect his face. He’s lost all traces of anger within his features. Instead, it’s been replaced with curiosity and amusement, like I’ve just presented him with the most challenging game he’s probably ever played.
And from where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem like Hayden Monroe loses any of the games he plays.
