“I’m a professional, I don’t—”
“Cut the crap, man,” he says. “You’re into her. I can see it written all over your face. Why don’t you come to a party at Alistor’s house this weekend? I’ll make sure she’s there.”
“I don’t do high school parties,” I snap, finally locking my wary gaze on my idiot brother, who looks like he’s enjoying taunting me. “And if I’m seen there, I will lose all credibility with the students.”
“This isn’t your first rollercoaster. Your first few months of teaching, you had one of those pretty girls bouncing on your dick like she was trying to ace her exam.”
“It was a mistake. I was stupid enough to break the rules.”
He grins. “Rules are meant to be broken, Eli. And most of the students already see you as an equal since you’re not ancient like some of the professors we have at college. When I was in my senior year, it was the teachers who gave us the time of day who stuck out to me, that I remember, like you. Not the old, stuck-up assholes who treated us like shit.”
“I don’t treat them like shit. But it looks like I’m preying on students if I were to party with you.” I don’t know why I’m so frustrated at Ahren. No. That’s a lie. I do know. It’s so fucking clear. I’m allowing some little girl to get the better of me. Yes, she’s beautiful, but she’s too young for me, and I’m her teacher.
“Come to the goddamned party, Eli. There’ll be a few college girls as well.” It’s tempting. A party may not be great when my students are there, but what else is there to do in this town? Most of the single women my age are looking for a ring and a white picket fence. But with Ahren, I don’t feel like I’m that much older than him, so it won’t look strange if I were to attend.
“Fine,” I sigh, turning to the garden once more. “Just don’t do anything stupid when we’re out together. I don’t need a reminder than you’re my baby brother.” This time, I taunt him. We only have a seven-year difference, him being twenty-three, but at times, it feels like we’re lifetimes apart.
“Baby?” He chuckles before grabbing his crotch. “Hardly. I’m looking forward to it, bro.” Ahren grins. “I’ll see you on the weekend. And don’t be late,” he tells me with a mock salute after he sets his empty coffee mug on the table.
I don’t want to act like a father and question him about the biker club he’s mentioned or the apprenticeship I know he has coming up, so I nod. When I was younger, I would be out at parties till the early hours of the following morning. But this is a new chapter in our lives, and my home is always open to him. Some evenings, Ahren will stay over, but I have a feeling he’s got plans tonight.
I glance at the time. It’s late, and I need to get ready for work. I make my way indoors and hope I don’t have another physical run-in with the beauty today.
Arabella.
Her name elicits thoughts I shouldn’t be having. I should be focused on revenge, but there’s more to it than that. Perhaps having her here is a gift I should enjoy.
She is bad news. Not only for my libido, but her folder had some interesting things about the little deviant. Even though she looks like a goddamned angel, she’s so far from it. And that’s the reason I can’t stop thinking about her.
Her name has brought up a myriad of emotions in me. Davenport is pure filth, even if she doesn’t realize it. I know far too much about her and her family. And even though I wanted nothing more than to watch her cry, to see her pain and bask in it, my desire far outweighs my need to hurt her.
I want the bad girl.
I want nothing more than to corrupt her even further.
My final class of the day piles in, and that’s when I finally see her for the first time today. I thought I would luck out, that she’d be off sick, or perhaps have left the goddamned school. But here she is, dressed in her uniform, which has been haunting me since the day she walked in here. The white button-up which doesn’t hide the black bra underneath cupping her ample tits. Once again, her skirt swishes against her creamy thighs, and my body responds with a jolt of approval.
“Good afternoon,” I greet them and receive a less than stellar response. “Today we’re focusing on the Roman War. Let’s talk about fighting, soldiers, and bloodshed. Who here has an opinion on why any war would start?”
My gaze tracks each uncomfortable-looking student, ignoring her. At least, trying to. But my eyes finally land on Arabella, who’s slowly lifting her hand after realizing she’s the only one to volunteer. Palm facing me, and I notice her delicate fingers, and I can’t stop imagining them wrapped around my cock.
Clearing my throat, I attempt to clear the dirty thoughts from my mind. “Yes, Arabella,” I say, tasting her name as if it were a fine wine and I were a connoisseur. I decide for a moment I enjoy the flavor of it but quickly shake the feeling away. This is fucking ridiculous.
“All wars are tragic. They’re born of hatred and anger, and of jealousy. Men feel as if revenge is something they should gain, where I feel instead of bloodshed, there are far better ways of dealing with problems,” she tells me, passion and confidence emanating from her as she speaks about something she’s clearly very interested in. “But then again, their morality had been so twisted by their anger, they don’t seem to
