Under His Care
Page 1
Under His Care
Love Under Lockdown, Book 8
Copyright © 2020 Jamie Knight Romance.
Jamie Knight –
Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author
All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Stacey
Chapter 2
Chris
Chapter 3
Stacey
Chapter 4
Stacey
Chapter 5
Chris
Chapter 6
Stacey
Chapter 7
Chris
Chapter 8
Stacey
Chapter 9
Chris
Chapter 10
Stacey
Chapter 11
Stacey
Epilogue
Chris
Sneak Peek of Under Lockdown
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Chapter 1
Stacey
Even though I had recently graduated college, it still feels weird, walking down the halls of a high school. Even though it's not my old school, it brings back a lot of memories. I still carry my papers under my arm. I had tried to dress conservatively, seeing as I am a teacher's assistant now, opting for slacks and a dressy blouse. I check the notes that I was given about my assignment.
I walk down the hall and look for the room I'm assigned to, checking my notes. It's still early, so kids are running around, being silly. I smile, remembering those days well.
My notes say that I am assigned to work under the history teacher, Mr. Winston. I haven't met him yet, so I'm nervous.
I finally find the classroom and stand nervously outside the door. I have to remind myself that I'm not a little kid anymore. I take a deep breath, open the door, and walk inside.
School hasn't started yet, so the classroom is still empty. I look around at the familiar setting, getting caught up in nostalgia. From across the room, I hear him clear his throat.
"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice smooth. I'm startled from my thoughts and look up at him nervously. Immediately, my mind draws a blank. He raises one perfect eyebrow at me.
"Oh, right." I clear my own throat. "I’m Stacey Mikhailov, your new teaching assistant."
I walk forward and hold out my hand.
"Ah, yes. A pleasure to meet you. I'm Chris Winston. You may refer to me as Mr. Winston,” he says in a no-nonsense tone.
He’s clearly the serious type. He shakes my hand briefly, then turns his back on me. I want to gush so hard.
I loved feeling his hand for those few seconds. As he talks about my assignment, I try to pay attention, but all I can stare at are his chiseled features, his dark, tanned skin. I want to run my fingers through his wavy hair.
“The students can just call me Ms. Stacey if they want,” I inform him. “I know that my last name, Mikhailov, can be a mouthful.”
As I say the word “mouthful,” I blush. I know I didn’t mean it in a perverted sense, but I wonder how Chris will take it. I can’t seem to think about anything other than wanting to take his cock in my mouth and swallow a big load of his cum.
I know I shouldn’t be having these thoughts. He’s my boss, after all. And I’m a virgin. I don’t normally go around thinking about giving guys blow job. But he’s not just any guy. He is so hot!
I see him frown and realize that he has noticed me not paying attention, which I guess is a good thing, considering what I just said. I straighten up, and he continues.
"As you know, this is 12th-grade history. I run a tight ship, but we do have fun in here. There are no real troublemakers in here, so you don't have to worry about that. Pretty much all the kids at this school are well behaved, " he says.
I try to hide my smile as he looks at me.
"I think you'll do just fine here. I heard that you graduated college with honors and aced every class."
I blush in surprise at the compliment. "Yes, I did. I hope to do a good job here and learn as much as I can," I say, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice.
He gives me a little smile, saying, "I'm sure you will." I could practically melt into a puddle right there.
He shows me my desk, where I can put my belongings. He explains his grading techniques, and his usual schedule for assigning homework and quizzes. I try my best to pay attention; it’s difficult, because he's so dreamy, but I really want to impress him.
Before the bell rings, he sends me on an errand to copy some worksheets for the kids who are out sick. The whole time I'm in the office using the copier, I think about him. By the time I get back to class, it has already started. I try to open the door quietly; when I walk in, he is writing on the board, but when he sees me, he stops. I walk forward and hand him the worksheets.
I try to walk to my desk, but he says, "Class, I'd like you to meet our new teaching assistant, Stacey Mikhailov. She will be with us for the rest of the semester."
I say "Hi" to the class, and add, “You can call me Ms. Stacey”; they greet me in unison with a "Hello, Ms. Stacey.”
Mr. Winston nods at me and I go to my desk. He sets the copies I made down on his own desk before going back to writing on the board. I watch him for a little while, daydreaming about feeling his hands again.
My daydreams are interrupted when he asks me to pass out some study packets to the class. I'm glad this is easy work because I haven't learned everyone's names or anything yet. After I make sure that everyone has a packet, I hurry back to my seat.
I see Mr. Winston nod, satisfied, and I want to blush again. I listen as he and the class take turns reading aloud from the packet. I assume it’s something they had studied the week before.
I enjoy listening to them; he was right about the students being well-behaved. Reading like this brings back more memories of my school days, but I enjoy this reading much more; every once in a while, Mr. Winston reads, or pauses to explain something in that sexy smooth voice of his.
Before I know it, our time together has flown by. I watch Mr. Winston write down and explain the homework on the board while the kids are grabbing their books and their backpacks. Soon, the bell rings and dismisses them. I watch them laugh and talk as they walk out of the room.
Mr. Winston sorts the papers on his desk. I start to gather my own belongings before looking at him.
"Did you need me for anything else, Mr. Winston?"
I hold my breath as I wait for him to respond. He looks up and shakes his head. I nod, collect my purse and other things, and walk to the door.
"Stacey?"
I pause. My heart skips a beat. I turn around to look at him.
"Yes?" I ask.
I'm worried that I did something wrong.
"I just wanted to tell you that you did a great job today. I know it was a relatively easy day, but I have never had an assistant who worked as quickly or efficiently as you."
I'm shocked. I stand there blushing. Finally, I answer him.
"Thank you. I always wanted to be a teacher, so when I was in school, I used to help out as much as possible." I feel so embarrassed now that I've said it.
He looks at me, impressed. "That's good. That shows initiative. Well, have a good day,” he says, going back to grading papers.
"You too!" I say, turning and walking out of the classroom.
My heart is pounding out of my chest as I walk down the hall and outside. I can't contain my excitement anymore, and I smile a big smile.
Chapter 2
Chris
The whole drive to the school, my mind is filled with thoughts of my new assistant, Stacey Mikhailov. To be
honest, I’ve been thinking about her since I met her yesterday.
Naturally, I can’t let on that I was doing that, so I’m going to play it cool... Not only is she attractive, but she seems eager, reliable, like she really enjoys this job. I'd like to see if she can handle more responsibility in the classroom.
I'm not sure how to go about that, though. As I near the school, I stop thinking about her intellect and start thinking about her physical appearance again. She was dressed modestly yesterday, in slacks and a blouse. They fit her figure nicely, though, and when she moved around, they seemed to hug her curves. I'm curious to see what she’s wearing today.
However, I realize these are not the kind of thoughts I should be having. As I pull into the faculty parking lot and park my car, I force myself to think about the upcoming finals. We have a lot to do to prepare for them.
Now that my mind is back on work, I can't think of anything else. I pause to have a cup of coffee in the teacher's lounge, then stop by the front office to pick up a few memos.
"Looks like a couple more kids will be out sick," I say to myself.
I shrug and put the memos away, thinking nothing of it. I walk down the hall, nodding in greeting to a few of the students that show up to school early. I'm happily surprised to see Stacey waiting outside the classroom door.
I think back to yesterday, how she had been dressed. Her blouse exposed some of her cleavage; it had been a nice distraction from the lesson I had been writing on the board. I try not to think about that. Things need to remain on a professional level between us. I unlock the door to the classroom.
"Good morning, Stacey," I say, holding the door open for her.
"Good morning, Mr. Winston," she replies as she walks in ahead of me. I do my best not to stare at her.
We both busy ourselves, putting our things down on our desks. Once my arms are free, I start digging through my piles of papers, finding the graded homework I had been looking for.
"Stacey?"
She turns and walks over to my desk.
"Yes, Mr. Winston?" she asks.
"Could you hand these papers back to the class, once we start?"
She gently takes the papers from me.
"Of course," she replies, smiling.
"How are you today?" I ask.
I don't know why I’m in a mood to make conversation. I can tell that my question has caught her off guard.
"Well, I’ve had a good morning so far. How about yourself?" she asks, tucking the papers under an arm.
"Oh. Same here I guess," I say with a shrug.
We share a polite laugh. After a few awkward seconds of silence, she goes back to her desk. I pull my laptop out of my bag and start writing my lesson plan for the following day.
A short while later, the students come filing in. I watch how quickly and quietly Stacey passes out the papers before returning to her desk. She is determined not to interrupt the class. I go over a brief review of the assignment from last night before moving on to the next lesson.
"I have decided that today will be spent preparing you for your final." I wave Stacey forward, handing her some more packets, which she passes out to the class. "The packets that Ms. Stacey handed out to you are about as long as your final. Think of this as practice for your real test, except that on this one, you can use your book."
A few of the students cheer happily. I quiet them down.
"It’s due at the end of class, and you will be graded. If you have any questions, feel free to ask Ms. Stacey for help."
The students open their textbooks and start working. Stacey walks around the room, watching each of them attentively. I take a break from the lesson plan and browse the news headlines on my laptop. Nothing serious to worry about today.
I look up and see Stacey bent over a desk, helping a student. I don't want to get caught looking, so I quickly glance back at my computer. The students work quickly and happily. By the time the bell rings, they have finished the assignment. They pass the papers forward. Without being asked, Stacey collects them and stacks them neatly on my desk.
"Don't forget to study for your final," I tell the students as they leave.
Stacey grabs her things. I frantically try to think of an excuse to keep her there, but there is none. She walks past me.
"Stacey, that was admirable, the initiative you took in collecting the papers today."
She turns to smile at me. "Thank you, Mr. Winston. Enjoy the rest of your day." She walks out of the classroom. I watch her leave, then sit back in my chair for a few minutes.
Eventually, I gather my papers and laptop so I can leave. The halls are quiet now. I lock the classroom behind me and walk outside. I get into my car and drive off. Being away from the school is no help; Stacey is still on my mind. I try to avoid thinking about her by getting a bite to eat on the way home, but it's no use.
I finally make it home. Placing everything on the desk in my home office, I pull off my shirt and tie, changing into some comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. I try to relax on the couch by watching TV, but it's no use.
I think of Stacey, her smiling face. I think of her cleavage again and I get hard. I put my hand in my shorts and begin to play with myself, stroking myself up and down as I think about her bending over that desk again. I want to take it a step further. She’s bent over, so I lift her skirt up and slide myself into her pussy from behind.
I imagine how good and tight she would feel, how I would make her ass cheeks bounce as I thrust inside of her. I actually hear myself moan out loud as I think about that, stroking harder.
Then, I turn her over; I want to see her breasts bounce, too. I'm nearly there, so I picture myself fucking her from the front this time. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I can hear her calling out my name. That does it for me. I cum all over my hand, so I go to the bathroom to get clean and shower.
Chapter 3
Stacey
Today is Friday. It's an important day: finals. We have spent the past week preparing and helping the students study. I'm anxious as I arrive at school, but not because of the exams: I get to see Chris again.
I think about him all the time; I can’t help it. It would be easier if I didn't find him so attractive, but I seriously doubt that I'll be able to stop doing that.
I walk down the hall of the school. I always try to arrive a few minutes before Mr. Winston, so I can see him walk in. I wait outside the classroom, but he doesn't show up. I think it's a little bit odd, but I decide to wait a little bit longer. The kids start to arrive and wait outside with me.
I grow more worried as it gets closer to the bell ringing. When I don’t think we can wait out here any longer, I pull the spare key that he had given me out of my purse.
I open the classroom and we all walk inside. We take our seats at our desks, like normal, but it's so weird. It's not like Mr. Winston to be late. I'm sure he'll be here any second, though.
The students chat quietly amongst themselves. I have nothing to hand out to them, because we are waiting for Mr. Winston to administer the exams. With nothing else to do, I instruct the students to quiz each other until Mr. Winston gets here; I am pleased that most of them listen.
I go through the papers on his desk, looking for a clue as to what happened to him. I find the final exam papers, but no clues. I walk to the door, looking up and the down the hall outside, but I don't see him anywhere. I walk back into the classroom, calling the class to attention.
"Get ready, students. I'll be giving you your final exam."
I hand out the tests to each student.
"No talking, no cheating. You have until the end of class to finish. Now, begin," I say before going back to my desk.
The students obey me quietly and begin their exam. I feel so proud of the way I took control like that.
The students work in silence while I idly thumb through the history textbook. The door to the classroom swings open suddenly, startling us. We see it's Mr. Winston and the students resume testing.
Everyone is silent for the rest of the class period. I watch as the students begin to walk up and place their completed exams on Mr. Winston's desk.
The last few finish about 10 minutes before the bell rings. They spend the remaining class time talking quietly; this doesn't bother us, since everyone has finished their exam.
I watch Mr. Winston anxiously as the bell rings and the students leave the classroom. Soon, it's just the two of us in there. I hesitate for a few seconds, then walk over to his desk.
I stand there, asking softly, "Is everything ok?"
He looks up, a little startled that I’m still here. He glances around and sees that the classroom is empty. He closes his laptop and puts it in his bag before looking at me and sighing softly.
"Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind right now,” he says.
I continue to stand there.
"I figured that's what it was; you never run late like that. I hope it's nothing serious?" I ask.
He shakes his head.
"No, nothing like that. I do need to apologize for missing the exam like that.”
It's my turn to shake my head in disagreement.
"It’s fine. I gave it to the kids, they took it, no problem," I say, feeling proud of myself again.
He smiles at me.
"Yes, I noticed that. Kudos on that initiative. Keep up the good work and you'll be a full teacher in no time,” he says.
I can't keep myself from smiling at his words. After a few moments of silence, his voice takes on a more serious tone.
"The reason I was late… is because I was in the teacher's lounge and I had heard some unsettling news,” he says.
I look at him with wide eyes. He leans forward to talk to me; I lean against the edge of his desk, curious to hear what he has to say.