Kept

by Cate Corvin

  I really doubt it.

  “I’ll text them. Just tell me what you need me to do.” I typed quick messages to Rachelle and Sean, not really expecting an answer, but my phone chimed within five minutes. Rachelle sent me a selfie with paintbrushes stuck up her nostrils and a resounding Y E S beneath. Sean’s reply was an order of magnitude more sedate, but eager.

  “Company’s on,” I said, trying to match Mom’s cheerfulness. I found the box in one of the lower cabinets that still had our old but nice dinnerware packed away in it and began washing up.

  They showed up a quarter to five. Rachelle had a bottle of wine tucked under one arm, and Sean held a bouquet of daisies.

  “The fun has arrived,” Rachelle announced, storming past me. She stopped dead when Mom came out of the kitchen to greet her.

  Usually Mom wore her more sedate wigs- brown and blonde- when she needed to be around others, but tonight she’d opted to wear a baby’s breath pink bob, which told me all I needed to know about her emotional state. She only wore pink when she felt like she was glowing. “You must be Rachelle,” she said. She peered around her shoulder. “Pleasure to meet you, Sean.”

  Rachelle’s smile widened. “I think we’ll be very good friends, Mrs. Fawkes.”

  Baby Blue and Baby Pink immediately hustled to the kitchen together, and I was left standing there with Sean. He looked down at the bouquet in his hands and handed it to me.

  “Thanks for having us over,” he said, looking at the floor. “Rachelle was stoked to finally meet your mom.”

  “Thanks, Sean.” I led him into the kitchen and rustled up a vase from the cabinet. He stood awkwardly at my shoulder as I trimmed the stems and fluffed the daisies in the vase, doing our best to avoid Mom and Rachelle’s dinner prep.

  I hadn’t realized my blue-haired friend enjoyed cooking so much, but she was already pulling Grandma Fawkes’ recipe for gravy out of Mom, and ten minutes later the tiny table was loaded down with all the old family recipes. We had to cram together to fit at the table, but no one cared.

  Mom really was glowing, back in her element. There were few things she loved more than to take care of people, and I knew she’d been sick and tired of being the one needing care.

  For a little bit, I even forgot about my own troubles. Sitting around a table watching Rachelle joke with Mom made my blackmailed arrangement seem distant, almost like it was happening to a Jane on another planet. The normalcy of this reality didn’t gel with that one.

  Towards the end of dinner, I was caught off-guard by a change in topic and nearly choked on a bite of roast when Rachelle cast me a cheeky look and raised an eyebrow at Mom. “I’m fostering a theory that Jane has a secret boyfriend.”

  Sean looked at me across the table, and I managed to look anywhere but at his face. It took every drop of willpower to keep the guilt from my face. “When would I even have time for a boyfriend?” Let alone three, but they’re definitely not boyfriends in any sense of the word. “Schoolwork and the library gig take up all my time.”

  “A woman is capable of moving heaven and earth when it comes to getting laid by the right guy,” Rachelle intoned, and I thought I saw a dark look flash across Sean’s features.

  If I’d thought Mom was going to come to my defense, I was sadly mistaken. She was Rachelle’s new bosom buddy. “Is that right, Jane?” For a moment, I regretted introducing them.

  “The only thing I’m moving right now is my grades,” I muttered, and Sean laid his fork on his plate.

  “Are you sure about that?” Rachelle asked, drawing out the word. “Or does your hair get all rumpled from the allergies, too?”

  Oh, fuck.

  “Jane, you don’t have any allergies,” Mom said in puzzlement, just as Sean rose from the table and excused himself to the restroom.

  So dinner was a mistake. Let it be known henceforth that friend and family gatherings were officially off the table.

  “I probably just had a bad reaction to something in the school’s food,” I mumbled, my appetite lost.

  “Oh, Jane, don’t worry! I’m not gonna pry, you know me.” Rachelle mimed zipping her lips, even though prying was her bread and butter. I don’t think she could’ve stopped if she wanted to. “But I have to say, you make for some very juicy drama. I can’t help but wonder who it is. Don’t tell me, though! It would ruin the mystery. I like to think he’s tall, dark, and handsome.”

  No matter how close I’d come to being found out, I just couldn’t be upset with Rachelle. She clearly loved the idea more than the actuality, and if she wanted to think I was carrying on some secret relationship- no matter how true it might be- as long as remained in the realm of speculation for her, it was fine.

  I would have to tell the three of them to start being more careful. We’d been so careless already it was amazing we hadn’t been caught at it yet.

  I still wasn’t convinced they didn’t want to be caught.

  Rachelle’s mind had pinged on to the other things by the time Sean got back, and we opened the wine she’d brought.

  Three interminable hours later, Baby Blue bounced out to the car Sean was driving. I waved until they were out of sight and released a small sigh of relief.

  Mom didn’t mention anything until we were cleaning up. She paused with her hands still submerged in soapy water. “So… do you have a secret boyfriend, Jane?”

  This time I was prepared. “Nope. I’ve been loaded down with so much stuff, I wouldn’t have time for anything else.”

  I told myself it wasn’t really lying. I didn’t have a ‘secret boyfriend’, after all… not just one, and there was no way they fit that description, anyways.

  “Well, you know I wouldn’t judge you, honeybun.” Mom kissed my cheek and started drying the dishes I stacked on the drainer. “You can always talk to me.”

  I smiled, but there were some things I would never be able to talk to her about. She might not feel judgmental, but she’d certainly feel even guiltier if she knew why she had in-home care now, and that guilt wasn’t her burden to bear.

  “I know, Mom. Love you.”

  My burgundy panties were gone.

  I searched the back of my drawers, upended the latest basket of clean, unfolded laundry on my bed, and checked under every piece of furniture in my room.

  Vincent would be back today, and I’d locked my internal mouse in her cage. I had no room for her spineless worry today, not after an entire week of waiting.

  But the sole pair of underwear I had in the color he liked was gone. The bra was hanging off a hook on the back of my door, and I was positive the panties had made it into the wash.

  Midnight blue it was, then. I made a mental note to check the dark abyss between the washer and dryer as I buttoned a pair of black skinny jeans and pulled a wine-colored top on. I was probably making too much of it anyways.

  He didn’t need to text me to come to his office. Monday’s morning classes passed like syrup again, but when I hit that free period and raised my fist to knock on his office door, my knuckles had barely met wood before he called, “Come in.”

  As soon as the last morning class had let out, the nervous jitters had set in. What if I was crossing a forbidden boundary without knowing it? Maybe they liked thinking I was a reluctant participant in their game.

  Another faculty member passed me in the hallway as I pushed open the door. “I just had a question about the scholarship contract, and Professor Spears is busy,” I said evenly, fooling even myself for a second.

  The teacher in the hall- Professor Harrison- glanced at me and kept walking. My racing heart steadied a little, and I slipped inside the office and shut the door behind me.

  Vincent raised an eyebrow when I locked it without being told.

  My hands had a slight tremor, but I crossed the room in several strides, spun Vincent’s chair so he was no longer hidden behind the wall of his desk, and bent down to kiss him.

  I nibbled his lower lip, grazed my lips over the edge of his beard, and w
hispered, “Thank you,” in his ear.

  His chair didn’t have arms, and I hesitated for the briefest second before straddling him, telling my inner mouse to shut up before she could put doubt in me.

  I’d never been the aggressor in relationships. Maybe the blandness of my previous love life was at least half my fault, but none of the Demons made me want to be boring and wait for the first touch. I settled myself on his lap, never breaking the kiss.

  Vincent’s hands rose to my waist, but I grabbed them and planted them firmly on my hips. This was my moment to taste him, not his chance to turn the tables and control the situation.

  He made a noise low in his throat, squeezing my hips compliantly. I threaded my fingers through his hair and kissed him harder, moaning when his tongue slipped between my lips.

  I let my hands roam, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and touching the hard planes of his chest and shoulders. His skin was hot under my hands, smooth as silk, the muscles beneath taut like iron.

  My hips rocked forward, feeling the hard, thick length of him against my jeans, and I was suddenly very sure that I wanted more than just kissing. Vincent groaned against my lips when I ground against him, and my hands dropped to unbuckle his belt.

  He caught my wrists before I could get much further than that. “You don’t have to fuck me for it,” he said, but his eyes were half-lidded and gleaming.

  “I’m not fucking you to say thank you,” I said, popping the button. “The kiss was my thank you. I’m doing it because I want you.”

  I slid off his lap and slipped out of my boots, waiting for him to tell me no. He didn’t say anything when I unzipped my jeans and slid them down over my hips, joining my boots in a pile on the floor.

  I stood over him and unzipped his own pants the rest of the way. The only time I allowed him to move his hands was to pull them down, just enough to let his cock spring free.

  My stomach flipped at the sight of it, the long length and perfect thickness.

  I stroked the silky underside, drawing a soft groan from Vincent, and wrapped my fingers around him. I kissed him while I stroked, running my fingers over the head and catching a bead of liquid.

  “Do you have a condom?” I whispered breathlessly, my muscles tense with the desire to be on him right then and there.

  He shook his head, shut me up with another crushing kiss, and I thought fuck it. He wasn’t stopping me, and I was on birth control. If he really wanted to play it safe, he’d just push me away before I straddled him again-

  Vincent hooked his thumbs in my panties and ripped them down, then drew me forward with rough hands. I seated myself firmly back in his lap, gasping at the sensation of his cock against my already-wet pussy.

  He picked me up by my hips and lifted me, and I adjusted him so he was poised against my entrance, my heart in my throat.

  His cock slid in inch by inch as Vincent lowered me back down. I clutched the open edges of his shirt, moaning as I stretched around him.

  When he’d bottomed out, filling every part of me, I slowly rocked forward. He was so big, and I was half-afraid having him this deep was going to hurt. My clit ground against the base of his hard stomach, sending hot zings of pleasure through every one of my nerves.

  The chair rolled backwards and bumped into the wall as my hips moved. We both completely ignored the squeal of leather against plaster as I rode him faster, rising up just to sink back down on him.

  Vincent bit his lip and released it, and I clenched around him, this close to coming just from the sight of it. The tip of my tongue traced his lips, the swollen flesh he’d bitten, and caught his in a slick tangle.

  The heat in my abdomen grew until my back arched. He kept me in place, grinding me down on his cock relentlessly. I didn’t think, just mindlessly yanked my shirt up over my head, and Vincent released me just long enough to unclasp my bra.

  A loud groan escaped me when he pulled me closer and sucked a hard nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue against me. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving vivid crescent moon marks, and I felt another spasm when his teeth grazed my nipple, but not hard enough to hurt.

  The squeak of the chair against the wall must’ve been deafeningly loud, but all I heard was Vincent’s growls as his cock hardened inside me.

  When I came, my entire body locked up like a vise and my mind went blank, temporarily blasted to pieces. I slammed down on him and he raised his head to kiss me, swallowing the sounds of my cries before anyone else could hear.

  He followed me over that edge only a moment later, his hips flexing and pumping upwards. His cock pulsed inside me as he released himself, fingers leaving bruises on my skin.

  I slowly came down from the high, leaning forward to rest my head on his shoulder. Vincent’s fingers traced small circles on my naked thighs, and for a moment it was almost like we were equals. It was almost easy to forget why I was here in his office, in a position I never should’ve been in in the first place.

  Eventually I looked up, almost afraid of what I’d see in his face. Now that I’d finally given him everything I was worth to them, would there be dismissal there? Thank you, Pet, you’ve served your purpose, now get off and get out?

  His brown eyes were warmer than ever and his hair was mussed by my fingers. I smoothed it back into place as he stroked my legs, afraid to be the first one to speak and break this spell.

  Vincent’s expression grew more closed-off the longer he looked at me. I couldn’t help but wonder if he regretted this, if he’d always meant to keep me on his hook without me acting for myself and my own desires.

  Instead of pushing me away, he kissed me again, threading his hands through my hair. I didn’t break it until the chime of the bells filled the school, announcing the end of the afternoon.

  He pressed his thumb against my lower lip. “You kiss like you’re starving for it.”

  It was impossible not to smile even though I was mostly puzzled. “Who wouldn’t?”

  He didn’t smile back, his gaze assessing and serious, and Alyssa Pelletier popped into my head unbidden. Rachelle had said it ended badly, became the stuff of campus legend.

  Maybe she was cold as ice for all her beauty. It was impossible to understand how someone could kiss Vincent and not feel it searing every cell in their body.

  Or maybe she was normal, and I was the one with a masochistic delight about being blackmailed into it.

  Vincent seemed to read the rapid emotional climate change on my face. “I enjoy it. Don’t change the way you kiss, Jane.”

  “I won’t,” I said, my lips moving against his thumb. It’d be ridiculous to try, anyway. I couldn’t foresee myself ever losing these desires. “I couldn’t.”

  “There’s an art gala in Conchord in a month, four Mondays from now,” he said, the rapid change in topic making my head spin. Conchord was a city nearly two hours away, where many of the families of the Bourdillon faculty lived.

  “That sounds… nice.” My bra was dangling off the back of the chair. I grabbed it and started fastening it back on, wondering what a rich person’s gala had to do with me. “So you won’t be here that Monday.”

  It’d be ridiculous to admit I was disappointed. I didn’t own Vincent’s life; he owned mine. It was no problem of his if he disappeared on one of the Mondays I desperately looked forward to.

  “Neither will you.” Vincent rebuttoned his trousers when I slid off his lap. “You’re coming with me.”

  I froze halfway through pulling my jeans back on. “I’m sorry, what?”

  He straightened his shirt and found mine, turning it right side-out while I finished zipping my jeans. “You will be accompanying me to the art gala. It would be an excellent opportunity to interview several nationally-renowned artists for your articles.”

  I took the shirt with numb fingers and pulled it on. “I can’t be seen with you. That’s just asking to have my scholarship pulled.”

  He brushed my hair back into place and rested his hands on my shoulders. I
felt so small staring up at him, and completely aware of how much control over my life he had.

  “I will be the only representative from Bourdillon, aside from Professor Spears.” He brushed my cheek as he spoke, and somehow that tiny gesture made everything much more feasible. “No one else there will know or care why you’re with me.”

  “Will I be there in a professional capacity as a student, or-?” My voice closed off before I could say date. I wasn’t date-material for someone like Vincent Thayer, and just voicing half the question seemed ridiculous in itself. My cheeks flushed red.

  He gave me one of his rare smiles. “As my date, Jane.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered. “I don’t belong there.” Hell, even if no one cared, which was a long shot in my opinion, there was no way I was mingling with the upper crust of society in Wal-Mart heels and a borrowed dress. I’d be a pigeon surrounded by peacocks, a fish far out of my depth.

  That was far more horrifying to me than the secret relationship I was carrying on with them.

  “You can and you will, Pet.”

  His use of my new nickname drove home the fact that I would be going, whether I wanted to or not. This was part of the price I paid.

  I didn’t say anything, just looked down. The glowing ball of contentment in my chest had become a rock that sank right down into the pit of my stomach.

  He forced me to look back up at him, fingers clamped hard around my jaw. “Stop with this shrinking violet nonsense, Jane.”

  “It’s not nonsense,” I mumbled. “I’m not like you, which you know perfectly well, and you’re using it against me.” It’s not like they could’ve blackmailed anyone but the scholarship student.

  “I’m forcing you to open up and face your fears. You just fucked me like your life depended on it. Remaining fully dressed in a room full of people who can advance your career is nothing compared to that.”

  “You and I are the only ones here.” I glared up at him now, ignoring the ache of his hand on my face. “That’s a lot different than putting myself on the line in front of people who might know I’m a student!”