Speak No Evil: A Secret Society Student Teacher College Romance (The Society Book 3)

by Ivy Fox

  “Foolish boys get distracted by the silliest of things,” she exclaims, unbothered with my wandering eye.

  “I can guarantee you the hard-on I have this very minute is anything but silly.”

  “Again, something you shouldn’t say to your teacher,” she deadpans, completely unruffled with my remark.

  “I don’t give a fuck about propriety if that’s what you’re hinting at. And something tells me you couldn’t care less about it either.”

  The small tug to her upper lip tells me I’m right.

  “Correct. I’ve always thought that the rules of propriety were shackles made by weak men to discourage free-thinking women. I, for one, have never liked being gagged. At least when it comes to speaking my mind, that is.”

  Fuck.

  She must have said that shit on purpose because all I can see now is Emma Harper on her bare knees with tears streaming down her apple cheeks, gagging on my cock. I shift in my seat, trying to get my act together, but the gleam in her eye tells me she got exactly what she wanted.

  The joke’s on me.

  I wanted to toy with her and see the rigid professor flustered, yet I’m the one left in pain.

  “Are we done here?” she asks defiantly, confirming my suspicion she deliberately planted the image in my head of her sucking me off just to watch me suffer.

  Well played, Emma. Well fucking played.

  “Tell you what? How about we drink this glass of champagne and then go back downstairs. All I ask in return is one dance. Then you can consider your debt paid.”

  “Debt?” She laughs mockingly. “Do you honestly believe buying a woman an expensive drink makes her somehow indebted to you in any way?”

  “Fuck no.” I scoff, insulted by the insinuation. “But if dancing gets me to spend a few more minutes with such interesting company, then what’s the harm?”

  I don’t miss how her eyes sparkle at the idea of dancing. I should have figured that was the way to soften her up. She hasn’t been able to move her eyes from the dance floor for most of the time we’ve been together. I just bought us a two grand bottle of champagne, yet it’s the idea of shaking her ass on the dance floor that has her pulse racing.

  “One drink. One dance. That’s it.”

  “That’s all I ask.” I shrug nonchalantly.

  She abuses her lower lip with her front teeth, and I swear I feel them drag along the throbbing vein of my cock. I push that thought away for a later activity to explore and pour her a fresh glass. This time she isn’t as impatient and waits until I pour myself one.

  “Happy birthday, Emma. Here’s to being impulsive.”

  She tries to hide the small smile that crests her lips by drinking her champagne down. She waits for me to do the same, while my stare never leaves hers. Once I’ve drank every last drop, I stand up, and she enthusiastically follows suit.

  “Shall we then?”

  She nods, taking the lead out of the VIP room, but when I place my hand on the small of her back, Emma’s rushed steps falter. I feel the weight of her disapproving glare on me, but I keep staring straight ahead, pretending to be unaware of the deep scowl ingrained on her face.

  I’m not moving my hand, Emma.

  Before the night is done, there won’t be a part of your body it hasn’t touched.

  So you might as well get used to it.

  Once we hit the middle of the dance floor, her tense shoulders begin to relax, relieved to be back in her element. However, to her dismay, the song the DJ chooses next is something she wasn’t prepared for. It’s a slow song for the crowd to cool down, and from what I can tell, Emma only likes it when it’s hot. I couldn’t have planned the song selection better myself. The minute my hands grip her waist, her eyes slant in further disapproval. I school my expression to remain stoic, considering I’m probably the only student who ever dared touch her in such a way. I pretend to be interested in our surroundings instead of the woman in front of me, knowing that’s the only way she’ll ever be able to relax in my arms. When I hear an exaggerated exhale passing her lips and her arms wrap around my neck, it takes everything in me not to gloat from the small victory.

  Once she’s fully at ease, I use it to my full advantage and take in the unique shade of her eyes. Back at Richfield, Emma is fond of using her catlike shaped glasses to hide the beauty of their peculiar color, which is a shame since the golden hue contrasts beautifully with her fair skin and dark raven hair. But I guess her hard-as-nails persona isn’t enough to keep horny twenty-year-olds from trying to fuck her, so other props need to be used to make her look severe and authoritarian. Too bad for her, I’m not easily discouraged.

  We sway slowly to the music while Emma adamantly tries to maintain the small distance between our two bodies. But as soon as we find our rhythm and the song begins to take effect on her senses, she begins to let go, no longer concerned with the intimate proximity. My lips are so close to her earlobe that there is no way she can’t feel the heat coming from them.

  “All of this was just impulse, huh?”

  “Last minute.”

  “So no plans whatsoever for your birthday? Ah, Emma, some things shouldn’t be so discarded.”

  Rather than having the banter I crave falling past her luscious full lips, she seals them shut and just keeps on dancing, pretending I’m not even here.

  Yeah, that won’t do.

  “Let me guess. You came out tonight to dance, maybe drink a glass or two and pick up some stranger to fuck and call it a day. Am I right?” When an aggravated expression overpowers her beautiful face, I know I hit the nail on the head. “No shame in wanting to celebrate your birthday with a good fuck. I highly recommend it myself.”

  “Of course, you would.” She thins her lips disapprovingly, eyeing everyone around us but me.

  “I want what I want, and I won’t apologize for it. I think you and I can agree on that front.”

  Her nose scrunches, but she doesn’t deny it.

  “So who is he? Who is the lucky man who gets to rock your world tonight?”

  She sighs exasperated, and does the first girly thing I’ve ever seen her do in all the time I’ve known her—she rolls her eyes at me. Usually, this little gesture is a turn off for me. Ken does this passive-aggressive shit all the time. But it’s kind of cute seeing Emma do something so immature since it’s completely out of character for her.

  “You won’t shut up until I surrender to this line of questioning, will you?”

  “Not a chance.” I smile widely, my hard cock liking the word surrender coming out of her mouth a little too much.

  She discreetly tilts her chin over to an asshole dancing with the Marilyn Monroe doppelganger I had been checking out earlier tonight. His greedy hands on the blonde’s ass tell me he’s traded down.

  “He looks like he’s taken.”

  “I guess he couldn’t wait the thirty minutes it took for me to grab a drink with you. Some men are fickle that way,” she explains, not one bit bothered she’s not taking him home with her.

  “Anyone else grab your attention?”

  Her eyes linger on my broad chest for a fraction of a second before she shakes her head.

  “That’s just too bad. It would be a shame to let the night not end up as you planned.”

  “I’m used to disappointment.”

  “Fuck that! A gorgeous woman like yourself should never say such bullshit.”

  It’s not a pickup line.

  I honestly meant that shit.

  Emma Harper is fucking stunning, and any idiot in here would be lucky to take her home, even if for just one night. She’s been a fantasy of mine since the day she started teaching at Richfield a few years ago. The only reason why I never made a move was because she made it known that she was off-limits to anyone who tried. Tonight, however, she doesn’t seem as indomitable.

  “That’s very sweet of you to say,” she mutters at last, albeit suspiciously.

  “You and I both know I’m not sweet, Emma. I jus
t call it as I see it. Any motherfucker in here would be lucky to get you under him. Present company included.”

  “You’re my student, so that’s not happening.” She waves that ludicrous idea away.

  Little does she know that the past half hour with her has been the highlight of my fucking month. And that’s saying something. If I can put the cherry on top by eating hers—pun intended—then I’m going all in.

  Go big or go home has always been the Richfield way.

  “If that’s your only argument, then you need to come up with a better one. I’ll be graduating in a few months, so being your student is a moot point.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re my student now.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time a teacher fucked their student.” I cock a mischievous brow.

  “But it would be a first for me. Some lines should never be crossed.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear the last part you just said. My cock is still at attention with you saying I’d be the first in regards to anything with you,” I confess, pressing my steel rod against her stomach to drive the point home.

  She gifts me with yet another eye roll, swelling me further.

  “Do you always say everything that’s on your mind?” she questions, unamused.

  “Most of the time, yeah. Why not?”

  “Because not everyone is comfortable with such crude honesty,” she chastises.

  “Weren’t you the one who said that propriety was overrated just a few minutes ago? Don’t bullshit me, Emma. We both know I didn’t offend you by admitting what we’re both thinking,” I reply knowingly since her hot pussy has been pressing up on my thigh since we started this dance.

  I lower my head to the crook of her neck and whisper what I’m sure will seal the deal.

  “No one will ever know.”

  “I will,” she whimpers as her tender breasts rub against my chest.

  “It’s one night. One memory, Emma. Consider it a birthday present. One memory of your hottest student making you cum all over his cock more than once is bound to put your next birthday to shame.”

  “You sound very confident in your abilities.”

  “I might have flunked my last exam, but making women cum and see God is my specialty.”

  “Somehow, I don’t doubt it,” she mumbles under her breath, her eyes locked on our feet.

  I tilt her head toward me, my knuckles under her chin as I stare deep into her eyes.

  “What do you have to lose?”

  She licks her lips, and I can’t help but trace my thumb over her lower lip where her tongue has been. So fucking soft and warm. Just like I picture them to be.

  “You ready for some more truth? Here’s a dose of it. Every time you talk in class, I imagine these lips around my cock, milking me dry. Every time you wear that one low cut white blouse you have where I can see your black bra beneath, I imagine ruining them with my cum after I’ve fucked your gorgeous tits with it on. When you bend over your desk, I imagine ramming my nine-inch cock into your pussy in front of the whole classroom, making you wail and scream out my name for all of them to hear. So you see, it’s kind of hard to ace an exam when all I think about is fucking you raw until you can’t walk anymore. Is that truthful enough for you? Can you take my level of honesty, or is it too crude for your sensitive ears?”

  Her breathing turns shallow, her breasts heaving up and down with the images I just planted in her head. It serves her right since she did the same to me up in the VIP room with fantasies of her on her knees.

  Emma Harper really has been a wet dream of mine, so if there is any way I can make it happen, it seems tonight is as good an opportunity as I am ever going to get.

  “So I’m going to ask you one more time, Emma,” I add, once the song we had been dancing to officially ends, leaving us standing in the middle of the dance floor staring into each other’s eyes.

  “What do you have to lose?”

  “Nothing.” She breathes out.

  Good fucking answer.

  Chapter 4

  Emma

  Halloween night – one month ago

  Colt Turner.

  Egotistically vain.

  Unapologetically arrogant.

  Self-centered.

  Morally bankrupt.

  And to top it off, too damn handsome for his own good.

  I could spend the rest of my night listing his many faults and barely scratch the surface of his shortcomings by dawn.

  What do you have to lose, he asked.

  There are so many variables I could throw at him in response. If someone found out I slept with one of my students, there would be hell to pay. The most prominent fallout would be that I’d end up tarnishing my stellar reputation, one that I’ve worked long and hard to build for myself. I would jeopardize years of work if anyone got wind I was even considering doing such a thing. Not only would I lose the respect of my esteemed colleagues and peers, but possibly my job for fraternizing in such an intimate way with one of my students. The repercussions of such a decision are endless.

  So why am I hesitating?

  His deep forest-green eyes never leave mine, intent on raising the pulse in my veins with the heady, smoldering look. I try to remain impervious to his blatant hungry stare, but I doubt I’m fooling him any by the way my body is reacting to him.

  I can’t believe I’m actually pondering accepting this crazy proposal.

  You must be drunk, Emma, to consider having sex with your student.

  But I’m not drunk. I had just three measly glasses of champagne, definitely not enough to take me off my game. Therefore, I can’t blame intoxication for being the culprit behind my indecision.

  And this isn’t just any student.

  Standing before me with his hands gripping my waist is none other than Colt Turner himself—a Richfield heir with the cocky good looks of an Olympian god. A man who puts most Vogue cover models to shame, with a face that would stop anyone in their tracks just to gawk and admire it. With a well-defined, sharp jaw and angular cheekbones, his emerald eyes take center stage in his glorious face—the complexion of his tanned skin only accentuating their beauty.

  But if his inherited handsome features weren’t enough to make grown-ass women fawn all over him, the lethal way he uses them to his advantage guarantees his bed is always occupied with a new conquest.

  Everything about this man is calculated and premeditated.

  From the way he has his sleeves rolled up inches below his elbows, meant to showcase his toned, roped forearms, to the wolfish smirk on his lips that promises the fulfillment of every erotic desire a woman could ever conjure up. Even the fair stubble on his perfect chin is just short enough to entice fantasies of having it deliciously brush against a woman’s inner thigh before his plush full lips find her weak spot.

  What do you have to lose?

  Aside from my reputation, the one thing that is really giving me pause is the damage it will do to my own self-respect. Taking such a shallow man to my bed will undoubtedly leave a foul taste in my mouth. And make no mistake, Colt is as shallow as a pool of rainwater. I have no doubts he can deliver in the bedroom, but the empty vessel that is his soul makes his exquisite packaging lose all its shine in my eyes. There are so many things I can lose if I let Colt have his way with me, but that one is what truly has me wavering.

  Unfortunately, my mind and body aren’t in agreement.

  I hate how my treacherous body hums in delight with his every soft caress. The way his thumbs graze against my stomach, scorching my sensitive skin beneath my dress. Even my core clenches at the idea of him making good on his word to fuck me until I don’t know my own name.

  But the real killer to my resistance is the sparkle in his jeweled eyes.

  It reminds me of why I came into this club, to begin with. Just for one night, I followed Jenna’s advice and came here looking for something that would make me feel something.

  Something besides loneliness.

>   I’d settle for anything that would do the trick of taking my mind off of how much of a workaholic recluse I’ve become in the pursuit of fulfilling my grandfather’s lifelong mission of exposing The Society. The burning longing inside me to feel wanted, desired, even if only for a few hours, was the force that drove me to come to this club, and the twinkle in Colt’s green eyes, filled with pure eagerness at fulfilling that very desire, is just adding fuel to an already hot flame.

  “Nothing,” is the word that ends up spilling from my lips, and the predatory grin he gives me instantly has my pussy aching in anticipation.

  “Do you want to dance a little more?” he asks, his steel hard-on pushing at my belly, making me roll my eyes to the back of my head with how good it would probably feel to have it inside me.

  The little chuckle he lets out when I take a step back from him, just so his cock doesn’t tease me further, should infuriate me, but it actually gives him a boyish charm I didn’t think could possibly come from him.

  “Do you want to go back to your place?”

  Yeah, that’s not happening, buddy.

  Like hell, I’m taking him back to my apartment. Just indulging in this conversation is dangerous enough. Having Colt know where I live is not how I want to end this night.

  “I can take you here if you want?” he adds, sensing my silence to mean that my home is off-limits to him.

  Hmm, he really is quite astute when the subject matter interests him, isn’t he?

  I get the feeling that very little else does, though.

  Instead of pointing out how I wish he were as perceptive in my classroom as he seems to be with the inner workings on a woman’s mind, I hike a challenging brow at his suggestion of a quickie in some nightclub bathroom or broom closet. Of course, I can’t fault him for where his mind went. A man like Colt, who gets any woman he desires with just a snap of his fingers, has probably seen his fair share of closets and bathroom stalls.

  “How about we go back to my hotel room, then?” he finally says, that stupid twinkle in his eyes making it hard for me to snap out of the current sex-infused fog I’m in.