First to Fail: A Strictly Professional Romance (Unraveled Book 3)

by Marie Johnston

  Was that what this was?

  I brushed the question off. Too much thinking about the future. Always on guard, always planning my life around what others thought. In this bedroom, it was just us and the sizzling chemistry we had.

  A draft wafted over my belly as he tugged my pants down. Deftly moving off the bed, he slid them off.

  Another breath puffed out of him as his gaze swept from my breasts to my bare sex down to my toes. “You weren’t wearing any underwear? I might’ve choked on my grilled cheese if I’d known that.”

  I smiled. “Are you saying you would’ve gone out of your mind with lust while I was wearing a thick coat of cotton armor?”

  “You make those sweats looks sexy. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  I cocked my head. His sincerity floored me. My clothing had been warm and functional. Nothing like the athletic wear that showed as much as my Valaria outfit, which I enjoyed wearing, too.

  He hadn’t moved since he dropped my pants. Self-consciousness was setting in.

  I caught his gaze. The heat in his eyes stole my breath. He ripped his shirt off and dropped his shorts.

  It was my turn to gasp. I rose on an elbow. The words “You work out” left my mouth before I could consider how inane they sounded.

  The corner of his mouth kicked up. “I do.”

  His broad shoulders were one of his best features—when he was dressed. But he had a tight body carved from a lifetime of taking care of himself. He might feed me pizza and grilled cheese, but he didn’t subsist on greasy food alone.

  And his manhood. Thick and straining, it was as hard and defined as the rest of him. This geek was hiding an Easter egg under his clothing—Surprise! I’m really a jock.

  I tracked every flex of muscle as he bent to the nightstand and withdrew a box.

  Condoms.

  My mind screamed Yes! but I bit my lip. He pulled out a foil packet and was setting the box back when he frowned. Straightening, he turned toward the hallway light and squinted at the box.

  His shoulders slumped. “They expired last spring. Like, nine months ago.”

  “What?” I sat up, but that put me at eye level with his erection. Actually, that wasn’t a bad place to be.

  “Shit.” He tossed the box and the packet to the nightstand. “I’m sorry.”

  I giggled. Only two responsible adults would fret over the expiration date minutes before they were going to insert the hard cartridge into the needy game station. “Not to ruin the mood, but I’m trying to think of anyone under the age of twenty who’d be deterred by an expiration date.”

  His mouth quirked. “That’s how I had Jaycee.”

  “Well, I’m on birth control if that’s the main concern.”

  “I’ve obviously been abstinent for a while.”

  “Then…” I shrugged. “Let’s use them.”

  His gaze stroked my body. He leaned over and grabbed a condom, ripped it open, and rolled it on.

  My belly fluttered with nerves as he crawled back on top of me. But I didn’t have time to dwell as he lowered his head and captured my mouth.

  He was sweet, like the juice we’d had. I twined my arms around his neck and hugged him close. We weren’t separating for anything. No other foreplay was needed beyond seeing him naked.

  I cradled him between my thighs and rolled my hips into him. Sensing my need, he positioned himself without breaking the kiss. The pressure of his broad head promised he’d fill me like I’d never experienced before.

  I surged up, taking him inside. He tensed, like he was afraid to hurt me. But he felt too good to slow down now. Digging my hands into his ass, I pulled him toward me.

  Letting out a gasp, I arched into him enough to rub my aching breasts against his bare chest. He set a hard pace. There was no playing around, no does this feel good, how about this. He took what I offered. We strained against each other, nipping earlobes, nibbling lips, and it was exactly what I needed. Heavy breathing intermingled with moans filled the air.

  Stretching out the pleasure should be my goal, but nothing but hormones and want drove me. Tightening around him, I dug my nails into his back and cried out, my climax slamming home.

  He stiffened above me, his thrusts shortening as he let go. We came together and for a few moments, it was just us. A couple. No history between us or behind us.

  Languidly kissing me, he withdrew. Curling up with him was the only goal on my list for the night. The endorphins chased away aches and pains and my meds would kick in soon. He left only to disappear into the bathroom. By the time he came out, my lids were too heavy to keep open. But I hoped he stayed.

  The bed dipped with his weight before I was wrapped in his warm embrace. It was just the two of us. For now, this would have to be our little secret. My small smile lasted until I fell asleep.

  Chapter 9

  Natalia

  Light peeked in from behind the blinds, casting slatted shadows across the wall and bed. I extracted myself from Chris’s side, where I’d been planted since we’d fallen into an exhausted sleep.

  My body aches had returned and not the just the delicious stiffness from the sex. I glanced at the nightstand where the expired condom wrapper lay by my empty juice glass. No bottle of pain meds. Damn. I’d have to get out of the warm nest to get some.

  But there was a slumbering naked man to come back to, so…

  I scooted to the edge of the bed and swung my legs down. The covers fell off and air wafted over my bare body, sending shivers across my skin.

  Sliding off, I dropped to the floor to snag my sweatshirt. Wait. It wouldn’t cover my ass, but Chris’s shirt would fall to close to my knees. Then I didn’t have to waste the energy to step into my bottoms.

  With his shirt, and surrounded by even more of his scent, I tiptoed downstairs to keep from waking Chris.

  A muffled rumbling sound was coming from the living room. I crept to the entry. His phone was vibrating on the end table. I’d bring it up to him when I got the water and meds.

  Turning back to the kitchen, I spotted the acetaminophen bottle on the counter. Perfect.

  I dug out a capsule and found a glass to fill with water. Tossing back the pain reliever and gulping down the water, I was turning when voices grabbed my attention.

  Frowning, I looked around. The main window was in the living room, and thanks to my state of undress, I didn’t want to creep out there any farther than I had to for phone retrieval.

  It was Sunday and…I sought out the oven to peek at the time. Whoa. It was almost eleven. I’d wonder how I slept that late, but I’d been up in the middle of the night. And busy.

  An engine sounded like it was passing by. A faint door slam made me jump and spin around. The water in my stomach swelled like an alien was going to burst out.

  Rushed footsteps and the creak of the garage door opening pushed me back into the counter.

  My usual mantra of What Would Valaria Do didn’t come to mind. Not even my fictional wannabe inner tough girl could help me out of this nightmare.

  Jaycee rounded the corner. “Dad! I’ve been trying to call—” She stopped so fast her shoes skidded on the hardwood. “Ms. Shaw?”

  Jaycee’s gaze swept from my bedhead down to my bare little toes. My breath choked to a standstill in my throat. I couldn’t speak. I wanted to scream. I’d rather an alien bust out of me and spare me the career-ending mistake I’d just been caught with.

  “Ms. Shaw.” Scandal dripped from Jaycee’s tone. “You and my dad?” An overnight bag I hadn’t noticed dropped from the girl’s hand.

  In my mortification, I couldn’t help but think that Jaycee’s look fit her so much better than the stuffy uniform dress code of the academy. Skinny jeans, an oversized maroon sweater—the letters MCU probably slid under her grandparents’ radar—and a pair of high-top black Vans. Her hair was twisted in a side ponytail that draped over her shoulder. She looked refreshingly fourteen and comfortable in her own skin, unlike her usual demeanor at the school.
>
  I gulped. “Jaycee—”

  A light brow arched. “What happened to Ms. Halliwell? Is that just in the walls of Preston, or once you hit it with a parent we’re on a first-name basis?”

  No, that was Mr. Budinsky.

  “Jaycee,” Chris snapped. His welcome, yet completely unwelcome heat surrounded me as he sidled next to me. He was wearing the shorts he’d had on earlier and had found a dark shirt. My attention was too absorbed by the unfolding drama to note what was on it. “Why don’t you head to your room for a couple of minutes while Ms. Shaw—Natalia and I—talk.”

  “Natalia, is it?” Jaycee crossed her arms and kicked a hip out. “Why? You two want to get your story straight? Nope.”

  I cringed. All my principal bluster had vacated. I was in someone’s house, in a situation I’d sworn I’d never put myself in, and I couldn’t fall back on my professional ways. I had no idea how to act. Put me in a boardroom and I ruled the meeting. Slip into Valaria’s costume and I kissed strangers in public. Mingle with the sponsors at faculty parties who didn’t care to talk to me anyway and I could make an excuse to leave early.

  But deal with a date’s kid? Foreign territory.

  Deal with a kid outside of “Preston’s walls”? What the hell should I say?

  “Natalia needs to get dressed,” Chris spoke evenly. “Please give her a few minutes of privacy.”

  “Nuh-uh. I want to hear the story. How long have you two been hooking up?” Jaycee’s gasp was indignant. “Dad, did you let your girlfriend suspend me?”

  “Jaycee…” Chris rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “Who else knows? Oh my god. Was it my tardiness that was the love connection? How—”

  My last nerve snapped. “Jaycee, your father asked you to wait in your room.” I sucked in a breath. That wasn’t called for, but dammit—I wasn’t wearing a bra or underwear!

  Jaycee reared back, her gaze seeking her dad’s.

  “Please, Jaycee.” Chris’s weariness soaked his tone. Great. Was he upset at me now?

  Jaycee hitched up her bag and wandered past them. “Call me when the warden allows me out.” Her footsteps pounded up the stairs and her door slammed shut.

  “That could’ve gone better,” Chris muttered.

  “That shouldn’t have gone at all.” I massaged my temples. My current headache had nothing to do with my fall the previous night, and my body aches had been forgotten as soon as Jaycee had entered the premises. “I should’ve been gone hours ago.”

  “She doesn’t usually come back this early, but she said Nana wasn’t feeling well. With the snow coming, I doubt they wanted to risk having Jaycee an extra night.”

  They sounded lovely. I stuffed my sarcastic thought away. I would be happy to leave Chris and Jaycee to it. But I needed to be in on “the talk.”

  “Why don’t you go get dressed?” Chris’s gaze strayed to where Jaycee had disappeared up the stairs. “I’ll make us all something and we can talk over food.” My look must’ve been dubious, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “It’ll bring a sense of normalcy to an otherwise awkward discussion.”

  Yeah. As if any of us had an appetite. With a sigh, I headed up the stairs, grateful Jaycee’s door was shut. I’d done enough of the walk of shame without moving an inch in the kitchen. And there’d be no fleeing once we finished discussing what Jaycee had walked in on. My car was parked at the community center. I’d either need a ride or have to call for one.

  I dressed, sucking up the unwashed sports bra and putting it on, and grabbed my bag. Facing the door to the hall, my stomach roiled. I wanted to vomit and run and run while vomiting. Was this what kids felt when they were sent to my office?

  Natalia

  Downstairs, I slumped on the stool I’d used before, but after a sidelong look from Chris, I moved over. That must be Jaycee’s spot. Chris finished boiling some spaghetti and warming up meatballs and sauce. It was the lowest-maintenance pasta dish I’d ever seen made. And I probably couldn’t make it by myself.

  Jaycee probably could.

  I sunk my head into my hand. “What do you think she’ll say?”

  “I don’t know.” He frowned as he stirred the sauce. So far, he’d cooked me two meals and ordered out one. If we were to keep seeing each other—not that we should—I should treat him to a dinner. Takeout or dine out. My cosplay alter ego should’ve been a sous chef. Maybe then I’d have learned to cook.

  Funny how my parents had fretted so much over my future, but they hadn’t ever taught me one basic survival skill—how to cook. Neither one knew how. They’d always had a personal chef. But they could’ve ensured I knew the basics, just in case.

  I had been taught to sew by a favorite nanny, Beth—a fact that would have made Mom die a slow death, punishing me for it every minute, if she’d ever learned it. Other kids hid their alcohol and cigarettes. I’d hidden my Singer in the back of my walk-in closet. But my pattern-reading ability wasn’t helping me here.

  I fiddled with the hem of my top. “Can I get the plates and stuff?”

  He gestured to the cupboards to his right. I evaluated his expression as I skirted around him to get plates and silverware. His mouth was a flat line and his dark eyes grim. Was he worried about his daughter, or me? Or both?

  “I’m really sorry,” I murmured. I set the items on the bar but didn’t sort them.

  Without a word, Chris pulled the pot off the stove and dumped the water and noodles into a strainer. He set the pot on a pad and sighed. “I don’t need an apology, Natalia. I have a beautiful woman in my home who I like talking to and have a great time with.” He glanced at me, heat flaring in his eyes. Yeah. We had a great time. In and out of bed. “I’d love for my daughter to know about you. Is it just your job?”

  It wasn’t just a job. It was my career, the one I’d been groomed for. And I was excellent at it, thank you very much. If the price of respect was strict adherence to the school’s policies to keep my parents from interfering and the school board from questioning each and every change I implemented, then yeah, it was my “job.”

  I chose another way to explain. “I have to fight for every ounce of respect. From the staff, the parents, and to some extent the board. It was a contentious decision to bring me in, but it was me or see the school fail. And I have a proven track record.”

  He nodded but didn’t look at me as he puttered around, getting serving bowls for the food. “I get it. I don’t like it, but really, the decision is yours.”

  To keep seeing each other. It’d always been up to me and I was tired of having to resist.

  He studied me, but when I didn’t reply, he went to the base of the stairs. “Jace, come on down.”

  Jaycee’s entry was quieter than her departure. Chris had been right to let her cool off. I met her steady stare.

  “You two ready to explain yourselves?” Jaycee slid onto a barstool, but her ghost of a smile was promising. Unless she was just really happy to see spaghetti.

  Chris took the seat between us. We should’ve chosen the table, but I doubted father or daughter ever thought of sitting there. The table was for show.

  As we each took turns dishing our food, Chris explained. “I met Natalia at TCCC, before I knew she was your principal. Afterward, we weren’t going to see each other, but she came through the store to drop off a roller derby flyer and we got to talking. Then last night I went to her game, she got injured, and I brought her here to care for her.”

  Jaycee twirled her fork against her plate. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” She leaned across the bar to squint at me. We really should’ve sat at the table. “Is that why you came down on me so hard?”

  I wasn’t sure if my answer would make things better or worse. If I wanted to keep seeing Chris, if I wanted Jaycee to keep my relations with her dad under wraps, I had to be transparent. “No, that’s how I normally am. I don’t sugarcoat my job. That’s why the school board hired me. I get them back on track with the school’s polic
ies, up to standard.”

  I shoved a forkful into my mouth. Simple carbs, easy to digest. Just what I needed this morning. Both because of the exercise and because my stomach was as tight as my customary hairdo at work.

  Jaycee frowned at her plate. “I thought they hired you because your father owns the schools.”

  I coughed around my mouthful and reached for a napkin.

  Chris set his fork down. When my coughing died down, he asked in a measured tone, “Is that true?”

  Wiping my mouth and catching my breath, I cursed the loose lips that had led the gossip train to Jaycee’s door. Was it any wonder that Valaria and her world of secrets were appealing? By the time Valaria took out her hit, she was gone. She didn’t get caught with no underwear in the kitchen.

  “My grandfather founded the academy. My father took over after he passed away. My original last name was Preston, but I had it legally changed after college.” The truth spilled out and maybe I should’ve hidden my vulnerability, but I’d never been able to talk to anyone about the name change. My parents hadn’t understood. “After going through high school with the last name Preston, I didn’t believe being ‘Ms. Preston’ would win me any credibility at work. It’s hard enough being a woman in the traditionally male-dominated world of Preston Academy.”

  Jaycee snorted. “I would’ve thought that it’d give you a free pass. Not like belonging to the scandalous teen mom with a dad who’s more likely to wear a cape than a suit to work.” She elbowed her dad to take the bite out of her words.

  I saw the move for what it was. Jaycee would rather have a dad in a cape than work a job for prestige and appearance’s sake.

  We were making progress. I explained further. “My interests and hobbies weren’t like the other kids, and my parents kept trying to steer me in the ‘right direction.’” I gave the last two words air quotes. “But I was raised by nannies and their interests became my interests. Blockbuster movies. Graphic novels. Anime. Mother was livid when she learned my first nanny had so atrociously influenced me.” I smiled. “But the next nanny had kids. Blissfully normal kids, and I lived vicariously through her stories of them.”