Rescue Me: An MM romance (A Bennet Family Novel)

by Andi Jaxon

  Chapter 4

  Ben –

  All through class he looks at me, his eyes finding mine. My pulse races, raising my body temperature to something above freezing. It scares the shit out of me, but damn if it isn’t an ego boost. I may spontaneously combust right here in my seat just from the look in his eyes when he says my name. He’s got such a sexy voice too, a smooth tenor, like warm molasses. It’s comforting and demanding all at once.

  In my fantasy I can be excited at the prospect of being with him, and I can be confident and eager to please him. In reality, terror outweighs everything else. The amount of need my body already has for him, a man I don’t know, scares the shit out of me. I’ve thought of it so many times over the last few months, but now that I’ve talked to him, the fantasy is so much more real. The image of my foster father, Dan, is enough to send ice through my veins, bringing me back to reality.

  I tried to be straight, all through high school I tried. If it wasn’t for my best friend Kristen continuing to play the part of my girlfriend after I told her I was gay, I don’t think I would have made it through high school. She was a godsend, and I will never be able to repay her for everything she did for me. She was especially good at making Dan believe it was real. He even “caught” us making out a few times, it was awkward for us, but it was necessary. I’m not entirely sure he wouldn’t have killed me if I had told him I was gay.

  When I tell Kristen I was in his office this morning, she’s going to want details. Every possible detail. Luckily for her, I won’t forget anything, I can’t. I want to know everything about him, even though I know it’s a bad idea. Even if he were gay, which I guarantee he isn’t, he would never want a guy like me. He’s confident, refined, and mature. I’m on the verge of being homeless with no family and am basically a walking insecurity. He could do so much better than me.

  Chapter 5

  Alister –

  Class is dismissed, and everyone collects their things and files out. Everyone but Ben Wallace. He hasn’t made a move to talk to me, so I go about cleaning off the whiteboard and organizing my things.

  It was a struggle to keep my eyes off him while I went over the syllabus, since my eyes were drawn to him. I’ve never been attracted to anyone like this, ever. I’m starting to frustrate myself. I’ve had relationships in the past, but they were more friends with sex, nothing close to this overwhelming need to touch, to taste, to own. I want him in the most basic sense of the word, on a molecular level, but I also want to know him. I need to know what makes him tick, who his best friends are, what his parents were like growing up. I need to know everything about him.

  I’m so caught up in my head and forcing myself to keep my eyes off him, I don’t notice when he’s standing in front of me. Clearing his throat, I startle when I look up and see him on the other side of the desk. He doesn’t say anything, just stands there staring up at me, eyes blazing. My skin heats and my heart pounds the longer he stands there saying nothing. Since when am I unsure of myself? I’m confident of myself and my abilities, I know how to talk to students, and yet my words are failing me now.

  The flush of his cheeks, and his increased breathing shows me he’s just as affected as I am. His lips part and his tongue peeks out as he wets them. My eyes zero in on a flash of pink, wet flesh. I crave to feel it everywhere. I want to know what it tastes like, what it feels like on my skin.

  Before I know it, he turns and walks out of the room, breaking the spell I’m under. What the hell is wrong with me? He’s my student, and that’s a line I refuse to cross. Shaking my head to clear the lust filled fog, I grab my briefcase and head to my office to prepare for my next class.

  The entire walk back across campus, I chastise myself. This is ridiculous, he’s twenty-three, I’m thirty-six. He’s getting ready to graduate and go out into the world, to find out who he really is, and what he wants to do with his life. I’m settled into my life. He’s not my responsibility, he’s my student, and I will help him anyway I can in that respect, but nothing more.

  When I get to my office, there’s a message on my voicemail, probably from my mother. I dial up my inbox anyway, just to make sure it’s not an important call that needs my attention.

  “Good morning, Alister.” My mother’s soft voice sings through the line. “I hope your first day of school is a good one. Don’t forget about dinner on Thursday evening. See you soon. I love you.”

  The message makes me smile. My mother is the sweetest woman in the entire world. She has always supported me and was the first person I came out to when I came to terms with being gay. Her response was, “Oh, well okay then. Dinner is at five, don’t think this gets you out of eating your vegetables.” Everything went on as normal because she treated it like it wasn’t a big deal, which it wasn’t.

  Everything about her is soft and feminine, from her bone structure, to her attire and personality. I started my teaching career as a substitute, then worked as a high school math teacher for a few years. It wasn’t until I had been working with teenagers for about six months, that I realized just how lucky I was to have her growing up. No matter what I did she would always be in my corner, which is something most of today’s youth don’t have. I have a feeling Ben Wallace is one of those unlucky ones.

  A knock on the door startles me. “Come in.”

  A blushing young co-ed opens the door and stands there, just staring at me. I wish I could say this was a weird occurrence, but I’ve gotten used to it. I’m sure there’s a line of girls halfway down the hallway already, and it’s not even noon.

  “Good morning, Miss…” I raise an eyebrow waiting for her to tell me her name, but she still doesn’t say anything.

  “Miss!” I say a little lower, hoping to shock her out of whatever trance she’s in. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to pass your class. Do you tutor after hours?” Her face turns bright red, and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.

  A sigh slips past my lips, these girls are getting bolder and bolder every year. Sometimes I wish I were an eighty-year-old, bald, chubby guy. I guarantee they don’t deal with these types of propositions.

  “I’m sorry, but no, I don’t. If you’re that concerned about passing my class, perhaps you should take an easier one.”

  Shame and embarrassment have her closing in on herself, and without another word, she leaves the office and disappears. I was harsher than I should have been, she didn’t deserve to be talked down to. I need to get my head straight, shake off the morning and focus.

  Chapter 6

  Ben –

  I’m an idiot. A goddamn idiot. I stood there and stared at him like he was an exhibit at the zoo. That’s it, I can’t talk directly to him. If I have a question, I’ll email him so I don’t have to look at him or hear him say my name.

  Riding my bike back to my shit hole apartment, my phone rings and I know immediately who it is, Kristen. Pulling the phone to my ear, I smile when I see her name and picture on the screen.

  “Hey, Kris, what’s up?”

  “Uck. You know I hate when you call me that, right?” I can picture her rolling her eyes at me.

  “Yup, that’s why I do it. Well, and because I’ve been doing it for years and it’s a habit now.”

  “Soooo,” she says, dragging out the word, “how was class?”

  “You’re as subtle as Niagara Falls, you know that?”

  “Come on! Tell me all about the infamous Alister Bennet!” she whines, and I can picture her stomping her foot. “Pictures of him can’t possibly do him justice.”

  “He’s hot,” I deadpan.

  “I swear to God, Ben, I’m going to stab you while you sleep.” She sounds pretty serious, and I’m forced to laugh at her. “Did you talk to him? What does he smell like? Does he have an amazing voice?”

  “I’m not home yet, so you’ll just have to wait.” Looking around, I see thugs, homeless, and drug addicts. I’m sure I’d be a crime victim if they heard me talk
ing about how attractive my male teacher is.

  She sighs heavily into the phone. “I guess I can wait. How was his class? Is he only assigning homework and having tests, or will there be projects?”

  “I didn’t hear a word he said besides my name, I don’t stand a chance of passing…”

  “Well, that will definitely make tests more interesting, look at your syllabus, it’ll tell you what types of things are expected from you.”

  It’s my turn to sigh this time. “I have to pass this class. I don’t have the option of failure. I should have taken the class taught by the little old lady. I guarantee I wouldn’t be struggling like this in her class.”

  “You would be falling asleep, and you know it, plus her classes didn’t fit your schedule with the other classes you have to take. You’ll pass. If we have to Skype every night so I can teach you the material, we will. You know I’ll help you any way I can.” She’s so sure, it makes me a little more confident.

  “I don’t have internet this semester, and my data plan had to be cut back, so I can’t skype. I sold my laptop over the summer to help pay rent, the only way to work on projects is in the library.”

  “Jesus, Ben. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped you, you know? I’m not going to let you be homeless and the last thing we want is for Dan to find you again.” I know she would have helped me without a second thought, but I can’t let anyone else have something to hold over my head. Dammit, I want to stand on my own two feet and do this myself. If it means not eating every day, or having to sell stuff to make ends meet, then that is what I will do.

  “I got it handled. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  Getting to my apartment, I carry my bike up the stairs, then dig my keys out of my pocket and let myself in, locking the door behind me. I don’t live in a very safe part of town, so locked doors are just a way of life. Though in the building I live in, no one has anything worth stealing, but it doesn’t stop dumb ass teenagers or druggies from trying.

  “I heard your deadbolt, so spill the beans on Captain Calculus!” Kristen shrieks into my ear.

  Dropping down onto my bed, I close my eyes and picture him striding down the hallway, sitting behind his desk, and standing at the front of the classroom. I start to harden. I want him. It’s as simple and as complicated as that. I can’t have him, he’s my teacher and far above me. I’m also pretty sure he’s straight. I may not have personal experience, but it doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want, and what I want is him.

  “Hello! Earth to Ben!” I pull my phone away from my ear at her shout.

  I sigh as I remember where I am. “He’s amazing. He’s so much taller in person, and when his attention is directed at you, all you see is him. His skin is the color of a good latte, and he smells like cinnamon and nutmeg. He’s intoxicating.” The last sentence is a whisper.

  I’m met with silence, and for the first time in her life, Kristen is speechless. The thought makes me laugh, and once I start laughing, I can’t stop. The entire situation is so ridiculous. Here I am, alone in my shit-tastic apartment, telling my best friend turned ex-girlfriend about my male math teacher who I want to have sex with. Nope, this is not at all weird.

  “Tell me everything. Don’t leave out any details!” she demands.

  “I met him at his office, hours before class, freaking out about passing the class. I made a complete ass of myself. He probably thinks I’m a freak, a total weirdo.”

  “I highly doubt that. Unless you confessed your undying love to him and proposed to him on the spot.” She’s so matter-of-fact. “You didn’t, right?”

  “Of course not.” Hesitating, I don’t want to tell her what happened when I froze because my past choked me, but she’ll know if I leave it out. “I panicked,” I say, frustrated at myself.

  “What happened? What tripped you up?” She knows everything about me, every sordid detail, every horror story which makes up my past.

  “He had carpet in his office.”

  She remembers the beating I took after tracking dirt onto the carpet in Dan’s house, black and blue colored my back and ribs, it’s not something a ten-year-old forgets. I could barely breathe with the cracked ribs, and I missed a week of school because I had to wait for the swelling on my face to go down enough to be able to see.

  “He’s not Dan. Alister Bennet is a good man. From everything I found when I was writing my article about him, everyone I talked to, everything said so. You know my stalker skills are second only to the FBI.”

  “I know, I know. It came out of nowhere, took me by surprise. I ended up leaning against the doorjamb, like a tool. I called him “teach,” Kristen. What the hell is wrong with me?”

  “There is nothing wrong with you! You got flustered. It happens to everyone.”

  “You would think I would be used to life not being fair, but this seems so much worse than normal. Even if he was gay, which he’s not, there is nothing about me that would entice a man like him. He’s confident, sophisticated, and smart. What do I have to offer him? I’m nothing. I don’t know why I’m even still here.” I’m completely defeated by life. I am nothing, have nothing, and will never be anything.

  “Are you done with your pity party?” Irritation laces her voice, even over the phone I can feel it. “You are so much more than nothing. One day, you’re going to see just how important you are, and I will be there to kick you in the ass.”

  “Sorry, it’s been a long day. I need to get this studying done. Call you later?” If I were straight, I would have taken her off the market a long fucking time ago. It’s not like I didn’t try either. We dated for about a minute and a half our freshmen year but kept up the charade all four years to try and fool Dan into thinking I was straight. It made life a lot easier.

  “I got a hot date tonight. I’ll call you after,” she giggles, and I know I’m forgiven.

  “Send me pictures!”

  Chapter 7

  Alister –

  Thursday night dinners are a tradition in the Bennet house. Since the time we were busy with after-school activities, my mom has made it mandatory for us to get together one night a week and eat dinner as a family. The day of the week has changed over the years as schedules changed, but since Alexander and I left for college, it’s been Thursday night.

  I reach for the door handle, but it opens before I can grab it. The shit eating grin of my twin brother appears in the doorway.

  “Beat ya,” he says, his smug smirk firmly in place, arms crossed over his chest.

  “There was a crash on 522,” I smartly tell him. My twin brother and I have had this strange competition since we were old enough to drive, the first one home wins bragging rights, I don’t even remember why or how it started anymore.

  Shouldering my way past him, I hear my mother in the kitchen singing and my father yelling at the football game on TV and I smile at the familiarity, some things never change.

  “Alister! I’m so glad you’re here!” My mother lifts her cheek for me to kiss while she stirs the marinara on the stove. She makes everyone feel important, it doesn’t matter if she saw you yesterday, or a year ago, her reaction is always the same. Everyone is always welcome at her table, doesn’t matter if you’re a janitor or a CEO, she’ll feed you all the same. I know exactly how blessed I am to have her.

  “Oh, Alister.” She holds the flowers with both hands and buries her face in the colorful blooms. “They’re beautiful, thank you, dear.”

  Putting the beer I brought into the fridge, I step up to the stove and stir the sauce as my mother goes about putting the flowers in water. There have always been fresh flowers in our house.

  “How are classes going, Ali?” mother asks over her shoulder.

  “So far, so good.”

  “Meet anyone that catches your interest?” Instantly, Ben and his brooding, dark looks come to mind. His magnetic energy I can’t seem to break away from.

  “Hmmm…” She hums knowingly.

  “It’s nothing Mom, j
ust an interesting student is all.” I try and fail to make it out to be no big deal. Unfortunately, she sees right through me. She always could.

  “What’s his name?” She’s turned to look at me, hands folded in front of her. I know this look well, and it means I’m not going anywhere until I tell her everything she wants to know. Luckily, I know how to get around her therapist tricks.

  “Oh no! Sorry, Mom, I think the sauce is sticking!” I fake panic.

  Huffing at me, she swats me away from the stove to watch football with Alex and Dad. Alister – 1, Mom – 0.

  Somewhere between standing and sitting, my adoring brother pipes up, “Got yourself a boyfriend?”

  “No, I don’t. One of my students this term is interesting, nothing more.” The smirk on his face says he’s not done ribbing me yet, and I guarantee he’s going to get Mom going again too. Dad raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment.

  “Any hot chicks desperate to pass your class yet?” Alexander, the man-whore everyone.

  “Stay away from my students. Having sex with you will guarantee them a failing grade.” I smirk back at him. Dad coughs to cover his chuckle. I don’t know why he does it, we have known for most of our lives he’s laughing at us.

  “Perhaps they need the comforting after you undoubtingly crushed their dreams of passing this much-needed class?” He wags his eyebrows at me, laughing.

  “Been that long since you got laid that you have to go sniffing around after eighteen-year-old children?” I quip, folding my arms over my chest.

  “Hey, eighteen means they’re legal, brother,” he retorts, pointing a finger at me. Dad’s coughing fit seems to have gotten worse, his face is now bright red, and he’s shaking from the force of his cough, but he’s smiling.