Triplets Make Five
Page 39
“I apologize for having to call you away from your class,” Mr. Richmond said to me. “But Miss Peters here thought it might be urgent that we discuss the status of one of your students.”
Oh shit, I thought, picturing the students in my classroom and trying to work out which one is the subject of this investigation.
“It’s about a student named Emmy Preston,” Miss Peters said, turning to me with pursed lips.
“What?” I was caught off guard. There was already an open investigation with her mother. Why was this woman here now?
Miss Peters blinked at me, and I noticed that she’s wearing that generic, faux-sympathetic expression on her face.
“Some parents have expressed concern over things that their children have overheard from Emmy,” Mr. Richmond said, clearing his throat.
“Like what?”
“Apparently Emmy has been bragging to other students about her new apartment,” Miss Preston snipped, still eyeing me. “At The Camden.”
“Yes,” I nodded, trying to keep my cool. “That’s where her uncle lives. And as I’m sure you’re well aware, Miss Peters,” I made a point of narrowing my eyes at her, “Her uncle has been awarded emergency custody of Emmy for the time being.”
“That’s correct,” Mr. Richmond nodded. “But some parents are concerned that the Preston’s lifestyle might not be in keeping with the morals and values we try to instill here at Bellamy.”
I felt the heat of anger prickle up my neck, and I turned to the social services caseworker.
“That’s ridiculous!” I said. “You can’t possibly agree with that!”
“I’m concerned with the child’s well-being,” Miss Peters said calmly, her eyes vacant and devoid of genuine compassion. “And if other parents are concerned that Emmy is a bad influence on their children, then I have to be concerned about that, too.”
“That’s so unfair,” I turned back to Mr. Richmond. “You’re going to punish a child because of where her uncle lives?”
“Nobody is punishing anyone,” Mr. Richmond assured me. “But I’m sure we can all agree that someone with Mr. Preston’s reputation and lifestyle could be seen as an unfavorable influence on students.”
“We’ve just called this meeting to keep an eye on the situation,” Miss Peters said. She was trying to placate me, but I did not want to be placated. I did not want to be talked down to, and I certainly did not want to be lectured on ‘morals’ and ‘values,’ from the same school administrator that blindly accepted tuition checks from Wall Street thieves and drug addicts.
“Mr. Preston is perfectly fit to care for his niece,” I said flatly.
“It seems you would know,” Mr. Richmond snapped.
I gulped, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Some students also reported that Emmy was bragging about you going home with her to Mr. Preston’s apartment,” Miss Peters said.
“That’s true,” I admitted. “I wanted to make sure she was safe and comfortable…”
“Miss Wright,” Mr. Richmond said firmly, “I shouldn’t need to remind you that we have procedures in place for these kinds of things.”
“I’m well aware,” I snapped back. “And if CPS had actually answered my phone calls, I might have been able to follow that procedure properly. I was doing what I thought was best for everyone.”
“I appreciate your dedication,” Mr. Richmond sighed, “But it can’t happen again. There are boundaries, Miss Wright, and they exist for a reason. Teachers and parents do not mingle outside of this school. Do you understand?”
I felt the pressure of both Mr. Richmond Miss Peters glaring at me, and I nodded.
“I understand.”
I understood… but that didn’t mean I had to agree.
11
CALEB
“Are you ready to see how the cookies turned out?” I asked, beaming down at Emmy.
“Yes!” she squealed. Her arms were buried in a pair of ballet pink oven mitts, one of the many items she hand-selected when I took her shopping for decorations for her room, and she eyed the built-in kitchen oven eagerly.
“Ok, stand back,” I said, opening the oven door slowly and blocking the wave of heat that simmered out. I reached for the tray of cookies inside and pulled them out, and the eager anticipation on Emmy’s face immediately melted when she saw what thirteen minutes at 350 degrees has done to the pink heart-shaped sugar cookies we carefully shaped with cookie cutters.
“Yikes,” I laughed it off, dropping the tray of failures on top of the gas range stovetop. I peeled off my own oven mitt, which was also, inexplicably pink, and I scratched my head thoughtfully. “What could we have done wrong? We followed the recipe to the T.”
“I bet Miss Daisy will know,” Emmy shrugged, putting on a brave face to hide her disappointment.
“You’re right,” I nodded. “Maybe she can help us make another batch sometime.”
Emmy’s face lit up at the suggestion, and before she could get too excited, I glanced at my watch.
“Enough lollygagging, we’re going to be late!” I picked up the pink backpack that we already packed for tonight’s slumber party, and I looped it around my shoulder. “Let’s go!”
Emmy clapped her hands in delight, and she skipped across the wooden floor towards the elevator. She has been looking forward to tonight all week. Tonight was the night of Morgan Richie’s slumber party.
Technically there was no reason to rush. Morgan was Aaron Richie’s daughter, and Aaron lived just a few floors down. Which meant the party was just an elevator ride away. But it was not the party I was worried about. It was the ‘non-date’ I arranged with Daisy afterwards.
I rode down to Aaron’s floor in the elevator with Emmy. I was worried she’d be sad to see me go, but as soon as the elevator doors opened she dropped my hand and ran inside to meet her friends.
“She’ll be fine,” Aaron assured me, catching the anxious look on my face.
“Call me if you need anything,” I said, handing over Emmy’s pink backpack and turning to wave goodbye to Emmy. She was so busy giggling with her friends that she didn’t even notice me leaving.
“She’s in the zone now,” Aaron slapped my back. “Once kids get in the zone, they don’t have time for you, unless you’re a pizza or a Disney Princess.”
“It’s a good thing,” I said finally. “I’m just glad to see her adjusting so well to everything.”
12
CALEB
“The Preston Hotel?” Daisy asked as she stepped out of the car and onto the curb.
“You asked me if we should be supporting the competition last time,” I smiled, offering my arm. “So I figured we’d give the Preston our business tonight.”
“Mixing business and pleasure,” Daisy smiled up at me.
“Always,” I smiled back.
We were different together, now. The dynamic had changed. Daisy wasn’t pretending that she could resist me, and I was not pretending that she could resist me if she wanted to.
I steered us through the hotel, marble, tall, overwhelming, busy, and bypassed the hotel’s restaurant.
“No dinner tonight?”
“Not yet,” I said. “We have other appetites to satisfy, first.”
I scooped her into the elevator as her face turned bright red. She bit her bottom lip, confirming that she knew exactly what appetite I was referring to. And confirming that it does indeed need to be satisfied.
It was imperative that I learned the language of Daisy’s body. That I could decode what she wanted, what she needed.
I absently pressed the elevator button, then I turned my full attention back to Daisy. Tonight she was wearing a sheer black blouse tucked into a short leather skirt. I could see the outline of her lace bra through the shirt, and when I pulled her into my chest, I could feel the prick of her hardened nipples pressed against me.
Her long legs were wrapped in a fresh pair of black nylons - I bet she pictured me ripping them off of her when she s
lid them over her silky smooth legs. Her hair was twisted off her neck, revealing the long stretch of glistening skin. I couldn’t resist brushing my lips over her neck, tasting her as the elevator ascended.
She was braver tonight. She leaned into my embrace, and I felt a curious hand explore my chest.
We arrived at the hotel's top floor, where the pool and spa were located. When the doors parted and Daisy smelled the mixture of essential oils and chlorine that fill the air, she glanced up at me, confused.
“I closed the spa down for us tonight,” I explained. “It’s all ours.”
“How?”
“I know a guy,” I winked.
The Preston Hotel’s pool overlooked the glittering Manhattan skyline with giant floor-to-ceiling glass windows. As the sun set over the river in the distance, the pool was flooded with an orangey-pink glow pouring in through the glass and tinting the rippling water of the pool.
“What do you think?”
“I think this sure as hell beats the YMCA in Greenpoint,” she marveled, glancing around. Then she frowned, “But I didn’t bring a swimsuit…”
“Me neither,” I whispered. I strode across the tile pool deck towards a lounging chair, and I started to strip off my black suit. Daisy watched apprehensively, then she took a deep breath and sauntered towards me, her fingers working down the buttons of her blouse.
She was learning fast.
I kicked off the legs of my pants and threw them over the chair, then stripped off my white dress shirt while I watched Daisy wiggle her leather skirt over her hips.
I saw her eyes exploring me. She was gnawing at her bottom lip again as her eyes traced over my bare chest, the abs Aaron helped me work for in the gym. And then her gaze found the bulge in my black briefs, and her eyes lingered.
Daisy was getting confident. She knew what she wanted, and if she played her cards right, I might just give it to her.
But first, I leapt across the pool deck and dove into the water, breaking the still surface and surging through the sting of brisk coldness that wrapped around my body. I stayed underwater for a few seconds, letting the cold sink through my skin until my body adjusted, then I popped my head through the surface and slick back my hair.
“Impressive,” Daisy said. She was sitting on the pool’s edge now, wearing just her panties and lace bra. Her legs are dipped into the water, softly kicking back and forth. “How’d you learn to dive like that?”
“I used to be on the dive team when I went to boarding school,” I explained, swimming towards her. “I got kicked off when the coach found Adderall in my locker.”
“Such a bad boy,” she bit her lip again, and despite the brisk water, I felt my cock start to harden. There was nothing between us now. No clothes, no interruptions. No reason not to pick up where we left off the other night.
“I’m not supposed to see you anymore,” she blurted out suddenly.
“Huh?”
She looked down, fixing a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
“The headmaster called me into his office. Apparently some of the other parents were upset with Emmy’s new arrangement, and….”
“What?” I felt a flash on anger, imagining the sort of stuck-up parents that would complain about my niece in the first place. I saw how great she got along with the other girls from her class at the party tonight. I knew Emmy wasn’t causing problems.
“...and I guess the headmaster found out that I went with home with you and Emmy the other night,” she said, glancing up at me.
“Yeah, you did. Because you give a shit,” I nodded. “Because you’re a great teacher, and you’re committed to your students. They should be praising you for that, not lecturing you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Daisy said, blinking at me.
I nodded, agreeing that we shouldn’t let it ruin our night.
“Besides,” she said with a sneaky smile, “I still came, didn’t I?”
“You did,” I said. “Very naughty of you, Miss Wright.” I gazed up at her. “Why did you come tonight?”
She shrugged. Her legs kicked in the water, this time gliding over my submerged hips.
“Do you know what you want yet?” I asked her. She glanced up at me. Her face was soft, but her eyes are on fire.
I planted my hands onto her knees, stopping her from kicking, and then I spread her legs slowly apart.
I could feel her heart racing as I pressed my body between her legs. I ran my palm up her smooth stomach, my handprint leaving a wet trail on her skin. My fingertips pried under the bottom of her lace bra and I press my hand inside, cupping her breast. I squeezed and she took a deep breath, leaning into me. Then I pulled down the fabric of her bra, revealing her perky perfect pink petal.
She wrapped an arm around my wet neck as I bent forward, taking her nipple between my lips and tugging. First, I clamped down gently, but as her grip around my neck gets harder, so does my bite; I sunk my teeth into her soft skin, then I sealed my lips around her nipple and suck until she whimpers with pain.
I immediately released my bite and sit back, admiring the red ring my lips left around her breast. My cock was throbbing underwater and I knew she could see it, even through the soft waves of the pool.
Her soft pink nipple was tender, stinging from my bite and I brought a wet hand up from the pool to rub the pain away, milking her gently as her whimper turns into a moan.
“Caleb,” she murmured, her voice strained as she leaned into my chest. “I… I…”
“Daisy,” I said firmly, “Don’t be shy. Don’t hesitate, just tell me what you’re thinking. That’s the only way this can work…”
She sat back suddenly and her eyes focused on mine.
“I’m a virgin.”
13
DAISY
I didn’t know why I ran away, but I did.
As soon as I blurted out the truth, I didn’t even wait for Caleb’s reaction before I pulled my legs out of the pool and dashed across the deck towards the first pair of doors I could find.
I slipped into the foggy glass doors, and I found myself stepping into a dense fog of steam. It wasn’t just any steam. It was a rich, heavenly steam, perfumed with eucalyptus and ylang-ylang and jasmine, a fragrance that immediately eased the tension in my shoulders and worked away the knots of stress that had wound themselves up in my head.
I stepped through the tile chamber and took a seat on the built-in bench, letting my head slump back against the wall. I pinched my eyes shut, taking in a deep breath of the soothing steam, and I wondered what Caleb is thinking.
I opened my eyes, glancing at the door, and then a terrible thought entered my head. What if he doesn’t come after me? What if he leaves me here?
I gulped, but before my mind had a chance to wander to the tiny, dark corners where my vulnerability and insecurity liked to hide, the door to the steam room opened, and Caleb stepped inside.
He was dripping wet from pulling himself out of the pool and everything in me wanted to run towards him. I wanted to throw my arms around him and do all the things he kept daring me to do. Feel his skin against mine, and learn once and for all if he was right about all those things he said.
For years, I’ve refused to let my virginity define me. While my close friends and confidants had viewed it as some sort an untapped potential, “like a passport full of unstamped pages,” Raven joked once, I’ve never felt any pressing need or urgent desire to shed my virgin status. In fact, in the last few years, I had grown to appreciate it. I’ve liked not belonging to anyone. I’ve liked that nobody knows me better than I know myself.
But now Caleb’s turned my world upside down, because with one flick of his tongue my body relinquished control. He knew me better than I knew myself. And I thought I’d be scared or hurt by that, but instead I was fascinated. I wanted him to know me more and for the first time in my life, I wanted him to take the piece of me that nobody else could have.
I wanted Caleb to take my virginity.
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But as he crossed the steam room and sat on the tiled bench beside me, I sensed his sudden reluctance.
“You should have told me.”
“Why?”
“Why?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “You always ask such absurd questions.”
I heard a hint of flirtation in his voice, and hope inflated my heavy heart.
“Does it change anything?”
“Of course it does. If I had known that you were a virgin…”
His voice trailed off, and he shook his head again as he sighed heavily.
“What?” I demanded. “What would you have done differently, if you had known?”
He did not offer me an answer, so I tried again.
“What happened to all that stuff you said about sex?” I pressed. “About it not needing to mean anything to be fulfilling?”
“Your first time should mean something.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why should it?”
“Because,” Caleb said, his fiery eyes met mine in an intense, pained gaze. “Your first time might be the only time it can mean something. And if it doesn’t, then you’ll just end up being a cynical shell of a person like me who craves a connection that he can never seem to find.”
“So having sex ruins people?” I snapped.
“No,” he said firmly. “But people can ruin sex, and if you share your first time with the wrong person--”
“Are you the wrong person?”
“No,” he said again, his eyes burned through mine.
“Then why won’t you fuck me?”
“You shouldn’t talk like that.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I can handle it.”
“You can’t.”
“That’s not your decision to make,” I reminded him. “I don’t need you to dictate how I should feel or what I should want. I know what I want… I want you.”
He was silent, and my heart continued to pound in the thick steam.