Rule Him: A virgin student/teacher forbidden romance (School of Seduction Book 1)

by Gisele St. Claire

She looked me up and down. "You can quit that innocent look. I've known you since kindergarten. You are so hot for teacher."

  "Stop it. Be quiet." I hissed, looking back at the door. "He'll hear you."

  "I'll be quiet if you admit the truth." She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

  "He is freaking gorgeous," I sighed. "Just like the men in my books. But he's a teacher, and I do want help with my grades so I asked if he could suggest anyone."

  "And did he?"

  I nodded. “He's going to tutor me Monday's and Thursday's after school.”

  "You lucky bitch," Larissa wrapped her arm around me. "After school let's go collect Jeff and head to Bailey’s for ice cream. I think we both need to cool down after that lesson."

  Chapter 2

  Parker

  This is what I swore would never happen to me. After all the trouble at the private girls’ school I'd just left, the last thing I needed was close involvement with a student. Never again did I want accusations about my professional conduct. I'd left Queens with my reputation intact, but my engagement was broken. In some ways, it had done me a favor. I had loved Eliza. I'd known her since we were teenagers, but it wasn't enough. The drama at Elvington High had shown us both facets of each other we hadn't noticed before as we went through the routine of life – mainly that neither of us was in love with the other.

  Time had passed. I'd taken six months off to spend some time deciding on what I wanted to do in the future. My father had tried to drag me back into the family business, he ran a multi-million dollar publishing company, but as always, as the 'black sheep' of the family, I'd resisted. Now here I was at Lincoln High, a mixed-sex school where I was hoping for a drama-free life.

  I had deliberately decided to work with twelfth graders. They were seventeen and eighteen and so I had figured there would be fewer schoolgirl crushes, the hormones having calmed down by now. Plus as a mixed-sex school, they had plenty of the opposite sex their own age to annoy and hook up with. So when after my class today I'd had nothing but female students hanging around asking dumb ass questions, I'd been at the end of my rope. When Candy had asked about private tutoring, I'd lost it for a moment, believing she was just like the rest of them, wanting time to crush on me, paid for by her no doubt super rich parents.

  But she was different - and that was so much worse.

  The minute I'd noticed the long-haired brunette with the blow job mouth sitting in my class, I had felt like a lightning bolt had hit me. Throw all the clichés my way. Time stood still. I had felt a connection. It was like somehow I felt I had known her all my life. But I hadn't, and she was a student in my English class, and I was there to teach. When we had started the class introductions, I noticed that she was staring in my direction—blankly staring—with no idea that it was her turn to introduce herself, and then her friend had prodded her, and she had blushed. Well if that blush hadn't made her whole face look like a china doll's, just entirely like she was a precious object, and I had felt an extra hard beat of my heart. So I had berated her, pulled her up on her behavior, so I could distract myself and make myself feel better. And then she'd said her name—Candy Appleton. She couldn't have been named any better if her parents had gone with Snow White. She was sweet as Candy, and I did want a bite of that apple. I couldn't wait for class to be over. I needed to get out of there, get to my usual session at the pool and work this insanity from my system.

  And then she'd asked for the tutoring.

  When it had become clear that she was a lover of the English language and eager to learn, I had not been able to resist. Students who want to study hard and have a career in the subject should be encouraged. The thought of anyone else with one-on-one time with her made my blood boil in my veins. What the hell was happening to me?

  I'd watched her walk out of my classroom. She was of medium height and build and that day had on a pleated skirt that stopped just above her knees. As she had got up from the chair in front of me, her skirt had ridden up a little, and her thighs were displayed to me for brief seconds of time: soft, tanned thighs. Thighs I wanted wrapped around my neck.

  I pushed my chair backwards and got to my feet now my rock hard cock had decided to give it a rest. I gathered my belongings together and decided that swimming tonight was not going to do anything. I needed to get back to my apartment as quickly as possible so that I could watch a porno and jerk myself off.

  I caught the subway home to Brooklyn and went into my studio apartment. I loved my modern little home. I had decided after Elvington that I wanted to stand on my own two feet and not use my parents' money to buy my way through life. My mom supported me wholeheartedly. My dad thought I needed committing to an institution. I didn't protest too much though when Mom arranged for the staff to pick up and do my laundry every week. I needed to look smart for work and experience had shown me that I was incapable of doing that all on my own. I'd not realized how dependent I'd been before. I'd gone from living with my parents to living with Eliza, and she had taken over the accounts and run our home in Queens. I wondered if her parents had found her a new rich bachelor to hook up with by now. It was what our families did, tried to marry money with money. When I realized I was free, I went all the way. I stopped accessing the money that my parents refused to take back and set up a separate bank account where I was self-sufficient, settling in my little apartment in Brooklyn. I had figured if I returned to teaching for the last semester I would get the joy of seeing the students graduate and I would hopefully find my place and my confidence again in teaching, away from the previous drama. A fresh start.

  I threw my laptop case down in the hallway and headed straight through to the shower. Fuck the porno; I was hard as a rock again. I would just think of Jennifer Lawrence. It wouldn't be the first time. I stripped off my clothes and left them on the bedroom floor. A perk of living alone. I could do what the hell I wanted. After my shower, I just had to pop those clothes in a laundry bag, and like magic, they would be taken away and then brought back the following day and hung in the closet.

  I padded into the bathroom and switched on the shower faucet, running the water until it was just the right side of hot and then I stepped in. I grabbed my washcloth, and hair and shower gel and began to lather myself up. I always felt like I had grime on my skin after a day out in the city. I felt the muscles in the back of my neck and shoulders begin to relax as the heat soaked in. However, the large muscle between my legs still shouted for attention. I soaped up my hands and grabbed my dick, lathering him up. He got harder, which I hadn't thought was possible. If I slipped in the shower, I was going to punch through a wall with this thing. I closed my eyes and let my hand move up and down it. I imagined Jennifer Lawrence in front of me, ready to take me into her willing mouth. Then her face was replaced, and no matter how much I tried to force my imagination to change the picture it was showing me, it stubbornly stayed there like a pen stain on a work shirt. Brown hair in long ringlets came to mind. A pouting mouth encased around my erect dick, warm lips sucking me to the back of her throat. My fist continued to stroke my cock up and down, while I leaned back against the shower wall. In my imagination, large doe eyes looked up at me wanting to know if it was to my satisfaction.

  Harder. You can go harder.

  I tightened my grip.

  Like this? She sucked me with even more force.

  Yes, oh yes, just like that.

  And then my imagination moved to her lying on my bed, legs wide apart showing me those plump pink folds and her juices flowing as she begged me to fuck her. I nestled myself between those firm thighs, and I plunged into her core. Her heat accepted me, and I stared into those eyes.

  Tell me you want me. Say it.

  I want you.

  I want you…?

  I want you, Sir.

  My balls pulled back, my cock tightened, and then I felt the rush as cum shot out of me in huge spurts across the shower stall. I collapsed back against the wall again, feeling like I'd run a marathon. My god, I'd neve
r come like that before in my life. Immediately I felt shame wash over me. I had imagined having sex with a student. After all that had happened at Elvington, I was one day into the new semester, and I had jerked off to thoughts of an English student who I had to spend one-on-one time with on Thursday. I grabbed the shower head and cleaned down the stall, switched the faucet off and left the shower, wrapping myself in a towel. I knew I needed to back out of the arrangement.

  To tell Miss. Candy Appleton that I was unable to tutor her.

  But I knew as I had the thought that there was no way I was strong enough to do that.

  That even if I couldn't have her, I didn't want anyone else to tutor her.

  That I would be watching closely to see if any other male students were interested in her.

  That I'd be looking to see when she was eighteen.

  I was in deep shit.

  Chapter 3

  Candy

  I had never been so excited to get to school. I straightened my hair with my flat-iron, so it was even longer and applied some product so it gleamed. I didn’t want to appear like I was trying to impress too hard though so I dressed in some midnight blue The Row wide-legged pants and a tie-necked Thierry Colson white blouse. I finished the look with a pair of Prada velvet mules. As I did daily, I added my vintage Rolex Oyster Perpetual date watch with its peach dial and cream strap. It dated from around 1967, and I adored it.

  As usual, Larissa picked me up to take me to school, or rather, Jeff did at Larissa’s command. I had the whole day to get through before I saw Mr. Newell again.

  I sighed out loud, and Larissa turned to me.

  “What’s with you today, Candy? Did you not sleep well last night? You seem out of it.”

  I realized I needed to focus on my friends and my school day so I changed to a subject I knew Larissa would adore—my party.

  “My mom is giving me grief about the party. She wants it done her way, all ‘grown up, ’ and she wants adults there. She just wants to show off their wealth again, not me. I’ve told her what I’d like, but she’s not listening.”

  “Can you not have two parties? One for family and one for friends?”

  “Oh, who knows? I’m sick of it all now. I might run away and celebrate my birthday in a McDonalds all by myself.”

  “No, you won’t. If you run away, we’ll come with you, won’t we Jeff?”

  “Course.” Jeff kept his eyes on the road, and I know that if we asked him what we’d been talking about, he’d have no idea. I bet his mind was on driving and some sports game.

  “Do you want to grab a burger after school? Get some practice in?” Larissa added.

  “I can’t. I have to tutor after school.” I replied.

  “Ah.” Larissa’s face lit up in amusement. “Now I know why you’re so spaced out today. Dreaming about Mr. Newell locking the classroom door and pounding you over the desk.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” I flushed.

  “What?” Jeff’s face turned away from his driving. “She’s getting it on with Newell?”

  “No dufus.” Larissa shook her head. “She just wants to. Don’t you, Candy. So does half the class. He’s hot. I’d do him if I didn’t have you, honey.”

  “Yeah, well you do have me so keep your eyes on your books.”

  “Aw, there’s nothing to be jealous of, babe, you’re all I want.” Larissa pouted at him and then she leaned over and stroked her hand across his dick.

  I wanted to puke at the PDA, but instead, I focused on Jeff’s jealousy which amused me. Larissa didn’t always get the upper hand in that relationship.

  The day dragged on. I tried my hardest to focus as I figured that way the hours might speed up but they never did. I barely ate anything at lunch, I was so nervous about my extra lesson, and I drank soda with lots of sugar to keep me awake, plus my mouth was permanently dry. The final bell rang, and I made my way to the bathroom so I could check my appearance.

  I reapplied my lip gloss and ran a brush through my hair. I sprayed a mouth freshener inside my mouth so I wouldn’t have dog breath and then I stood and appraised myself in the mirror. I looked fresh but not like I’d made a huge effort. Perfect. Taking a deep breath, I made my way down to Mr. Newell’s classroom and knocked on the door.

  “Come in.” His husky voice directed.

  I pushed open the door. I’d underestimated what my reaction to him would be. My mind had not been able to fully capture the perfection that was Mr. Newell. Now here he was in front of me, looking up from his desk. That perfect hair, those blue eyes that had a kindly look about them, but also felt like they could pierce through me like an X-ray. His jacket was on the back of his chair, and the sleeves of his pale-gray shirt were rolled up to the elbow, revealing defined lower arms. I watched as his gaze returned to the books before him and the muscles and tendons beneath that golden skin moved and rippled as he moved the books around.

  I felt like I’d stood there forever staring, but it had been mere seconds. I felt locked in a freeze-frame, happy to stay frozen for the rest of my life.

  “Miss Appleton, take a seat please.” He gestured to the desk in front of him. I walked over and sat there, dropping my tote to the floor to my right and then I shrugged out of my jacket, his eyes followed my every move as if he wanted to critique my performance already.

  “Can you call me Candy, please, like in class? Miss. Appleton is what the staff at home call me. I hate it.”

  “Well, I can assure you that here I’m not your ‘staff’. I’m your teacher.” Super. I’d only been here about three minutes, and already the teacher was pissed at me.

  “I know you’re not and I’m very grateful for you agreeing to spend your extra time tutoring me. I hate that we have staff and I hate that they won’t call me Candy. I have to say it’s mainly my mom’s doing.” I realized I was talking too much. Mr. Newell didn’t give a crap about my home life.

  “Sorry. Can we start again? Please, could you call me Candy? I’d prefer it.”

  “Okay.” His lip twitched slightly, and I hoped we could move on now. “Well, for the duration of our tutoring, you can call me…Mr. Newell.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay,” I replied, finding some confidence from somewhere. “I think I’ll be able to manage that somehow.”

  Within ten minutes we’d settled into a comfortable flow. Mr. Newell was as passionate about teaching the subject of English as I was learning about it and once he saw I was there to focus on getting as much extra understanding of film and literature as I could, his enthusiasm increased.

  The lesson finished in what seemed to be record time. I could have screamed when he said we needed to wrap things up. I’d had the most amazing hour in a long time, spent with a great teacher, learning my favorite subject and for almost a moment there, but not quite completely, I’d forgotten about my crush.

  “I’m happy you’re getting tutored, Candy. You have a gift, and any school would be fortunate to have you as an English teacher. That’s if you don’t make a fortune on your novel.”

  “I’d have to write it first.”

  “Why haven’t you? Why just notes in a book?” He folded his arms across his chest, and his biceps bulked up. I couldn’t help myself; I licked my lips. My mouth was dry again, and I’d not brought a drink in with me.

  “I don’t know really. I guess it’s about committing to that first sentence. I’m scared of where the book will take me and well, what if it becomes a romance book? I like reading romance, but I think I’d be embarrassed if I wrote one and wouldn’t want anyone to read it.”

  “You’re worrying too much.” Mr. Newell began to rise from his seat. “Why not start it and see where it goes. Lock it in a drawer, so you know that no one but yourself will have access to it. Write what comes from the heart.”

  Following his cue, I rose to leave but as I did my head swam, and I felt dizzy. Grasping onto the table, I stood still for a moment while the room stopped spinning.

  Mr. Newell was at the sid
e of me in a flash. “Candy. Are you okay?”

  He had reached his hand out, and it rested on my shoulder. My skin shivered, and I trembled under his touch. I moved back and waved a hand in front of my face embarrassed. “Yeah, fine. I didn’t eat so much today. Didn’t have much of an appetite. I’ll just grab a candy bar from one of the vending machines in the cafeteria on the way out.”

  “Hold on. I have an apple. Much better for you.” He said. “Sit back down while I get it.”

  I once again took the seat while he went into his case for the apple. I watched as he rubbed the skin of it down his shirt. Was this supposed to make me less dizzy? I was about to pass out from sheer lust.

  He passed me the apple, and I took a bite. Then he laughed.

  “What?” I asked, wondering what moronic thing I’d done now.

  “I’m just laughing at giving an apple to Miss. Appleton.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I sighed. “I’ve heard it my whole life. Candy apple. My parents suck. Who gives their child a name like that? At least I’ll be able to change it when I get married.”

  He turned away back to his case and started to pack up his belongings.

  “Oh my god, I’m sorry, Mr. Newell. I never thought. You probably have a family to get back to, and I’m holding you up.” I attempted to get up from my seat again.

  He raised a hand at me. “No one to rush back for, so take your time and eat. I’ll go get you a drink and then I’ll take you home.”

  “No. No way. That’s above and beyond and not necessary. I’ll call one of our drivers.”

  He laughed. “Of course, you would have a driver.”

  “I sound very spoiled don’t I?”

  “It’s nothing I’m not used to. Anyway, you won’t call a driver because I’m not having a fainting student on my hands. I’ll drive you home.”

  I nodded. “Well I live on East 67th Street, so it’s not far.”

  “I’ll go and get you that drink.” He repeated and walked out of the room. I watched his retreating and admired his ass which was like a juicy peach encased in cotton. Oh to be his pants!