Veiled Innocence

by Ella Frank

  “Let’s go. You can tell me more on the way,” I said, walking us back in the direction we’d come.

  She was silent the entire way.

  Like someone lost, she let me lead her, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what would’ve happened if she’d trusted the wrong person?

  Or had she?

  I unlocked the doors and shook off the thought. Before she climbed into the cab, into the small space I would soon lock myself into beside her, she said so softly I almost missed it, “You make it go away.”

  Not understanding, I asked, “I make what go away?”

  Dropping all pretense, she replied, “The chaos.”

  * * *

  I climbed into his truck and watched him walk around the front.

  I wondered how he did it. How did he make it all stop?

  He got into the seat beside me and pulled the door shut, sealing us inside.

  “I’m sorry,” I offered, thinking I needed to say something to make him understand that I didn’t mean to be peculiar—I just was.

  I was forever trying to hide this side of myself, never wanting to show I was anything other than okay, but with him it was different.

  He didn’t know the story. He hadn’t been there that day.

  Not like the rest of them.

  Grayson started up the truck, but instead of leaving, he switched on the interior light. For the first time tonight, I felt like I was back in his classroom because the look he was giving me was expectant and concerned.

  “Want to tell me what’s going on, Addison?”

  I began to nibble on my thumbnail, and almost like it was habit, he swatted it away from my mouth. “Bad habit?”

  I shrugged, feeling shy.

  “A nervous one.”

  He pulled away, and I knew he’d taken that wrong. I reached across the space between us and brought his hand back to me, placing it on my bare leg.

  “You don’t make me nervous…” I trailed off, concentrating instead on how large his hand was where it rested on my thigh.

  “I should.”

  “Why?”

  His fingers flexed, but before he could remove them, I placed mine on top.

  “Because you’re older than me? Or because you’re my teacher?”

  “God, Addison,” he groaned, sounding tortured. I squeezed my hand, pressing his fingers harder against my naked flesh. “Both of those reasons, and…”

  Having forgotten all about my moment of weird, I licked my lips and dared to ask, “And?”

  I watched as he shifted in his seat so he could face me.

  “And because of all the things I’m thinking.”

  I could feel my breathing coming faster. He pushed his hair behind his ear, and suddenly, I was burning up. It was hot, too hot.

  Not ready to release my contact with him, I used my other hand to unbutton my coat. When I pulled it apart, I heard a strangled sound leave him.

  As my pink dress came into view, I knew he could see the swell of my breasts rise with every breath I took. I curled my fingers around his and slowly urged them up my leg.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Addison—”

  “Tell me.”

  He switched off the interior light. As the cab plunged into darkness, he moved his palm farther up my thigh, and his voice found me.

  “I’m thinking about what’s under your dress. I have been since I saw you tonight at Franco’s.”

  I laid my head back on the headrest and demanded, “More.”

  His hand skimmed the inside of my thigh, and his fingers pressed softly into my flesh, parting my legs.

  “Even though I shouldn’t, I can’t stop thinking about how you would taste.”

  I could feel myself throb as his words reminded me of our kiss. “More.”

  His lips lightly grazed my jaw, and he teased me for the first time. “Greedy. I’ll tell you more if you tell me why you count.”

  “It calms me when I’m…anxious.”

  His hand slipped even higher under my dress. “You’re not counting now…”

  “No,” I sighed as his mouth moved closer to mine.

  “Why?”

  His warm breath touched my lips as the tips of his fingers finally brushed my damp panties.

  “Because of you,” I moaned, closing my eyes. “Your voice calms me. When you speak, I feel safe. I have ever since I met you.”

  “Open your eyes, Addison,” he instructed, and I felt my pussy moisten as I did as he asked. “Do you feel calm right now?”

  “No,” I whimpered, knowing if he stopped I’d beg.

  He chuckled softly. “How do you feel?”

  “Hot, wet...”

  “And?”

  “Ready.” So damn ready.

  “If we do this, we can never tell anyone. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I agreed, pulling him in that final inch. “God, yes.”

  I pushed my hips up so the full weight of his fingers were against my wet cotton thong and vowed, “I won’t tell a soul.”

  That was when he moved.

  * * *

  As soon as the words left her mouth, I took her.

  With ravenous lips and a forceful tongue, I pushed inside, kissing her fiercely as I stroked the soaked scrap of material between her smooth thighs.

  Her legs spread even wider, and I braced myself on the seat beside her shoulder. Lifting my mouth from hers, I kissed the corner as my fingers curled into the leg of her panties. Her lips opened with a cry, and her eyes glazed over when she realized what I was about to do.

  “Is this what you thought about? When you were lying awake at night?”

  She pumped her hips up, trying to get closer, trying for contact.

  “Not yet,” I told her and ran my finger up and down the material’s edge.

  “Grayson,” she begged, using her hold on my jacket to lever herself up.

  “Yes, Addison?”

  “In me.”

  With those two words, my cock became so painfully hard I almost lost what little control I had left.

  “I thought about them inside me. Fucking me.”

  That was it. Whatever had been holding me back snapped, and I ripped her panties, pushing them out of my way. My fingers found her, and as her warm juices coated them, I groaned and took her mouth.

  As my tongue slid between her lips, my finger pushed inside her body, and the shout that left her made me fucking grateful there was no one around to hear.

  With her eyes on mine, she released her hold of my jacket and pulled the stretchy material of her dress under her perky breasts.

  Fuck, I was in heaven. I was also aware that I was pretty damn close to being assured a spot in hell.

  Her bra…Jesus. Her lacy bra was the same pink as the dress.

  I traced the flimsy material and tugged it down to reveal her soft, rounded flesh. I lowered my head to take her hard nipple in my mouth, and at the last second, I hesitated—but it was too late. She wove her fingers into my hair, pulling me to her, and in that moment, she owned me. I would have done anything to have her, and I did.

  * * *

  I had a firm hold of his hair when his lips closed around my nipple.

  Grayson was driving me crazy.

  His fingers filled me, and my pussy tightened and pulsed around them. My whole body bowed off the seat, and I couldn’t help the scream that left me as my body tensed and my orgasm hit.

  I’d been wrong, I thought as he raised his head.

  He didn’t have the ability to calm me…

  Grayson had the ability to make me forget.

  Chapter Twelve

  Past…

  I drove Addison home that night in complete silence. I didn’t know what to say. What the hell had I been thinking, touching her?

  Now here it was, Monday morning, and I was standing in my classroom waiting for the fucking police to drag me away. Well, I’d been waiting for that all weekend if I was honest with myself
.

  The bell had just rung, and I was staring up at the clock on the wall, the loud—tick, tick, tock—reminding me of Addison as it signaled the day had begun.

  The door slammed opened, jarring me from my thoughts. In walked Brandon, closely followed by the woman…no, the girl I’d had my fingers inside of this past weekend.

  She glanced my way, and I could feel the heat rising up under the collar of my shirt. This was fucking insanity. I was going to either have an anxiety attack or a heart attack if she came any closer.

  Luckily, Addison seemed to understand that was not going to help in this situation. Instead, she followed her boyfriend down to where they usually sat.

  I gripped my tie and loosened it, hoping it would help me breathe easier, but it didn’t help at all. All I kept hearing was—I thought about them inside me. Fucking me—and all I could see was my whole world spinning out of control.

  One night. One hasty decision, and I’d gone to her—just as she’d asked.

  What else would I have done had she asked?

  Trying to pull myself together, I made my way to the door and closed it after the final student meandered inside. It gave me the perfect excuse to stop looking at her. To cease my inspection of the navy blue skirt she was wearing and the stretchy white tank top that didn’t hide anything from curious or, in my case, greedy eyes.

  Her legs, those long, lean legs that had propelled her over the hurdles just last Friday, were now crossed under her desk—and I hated that all I could think about was getting back between them.

  * * *

  I couldn’t stop watching him. I was trying my best to listen to Brandon, but all I could concentrate on was Grayson. He was wearing jeans that reminded me of the ones he’d worn Saturday night...

  God, just thinking about that night made me hot. The way he’d kissed me and the way his fingers had moved inside me. I still couldn’t believe it’d really happened, but I knew it had. I could tell by the way he was acting.

  It wasn’t obvious in the sense that he was ogling me. In fact, it was just the opposite. He wouldn’t look at me at all, and when I did catch him, he always turned away.

  When I replayed that night, I kept coming back to the same conclusion—with Grayson, my mind was at peace. What I’d started to believe was madness had disappeared.

  “Okay, guys, let’s open your books to chapter five,” he told the class from behind his desk.

  “Last week, I told you we would be starting the term with King Henry’s wives, and we read about Catherine of Aragon. Funny thing is, what most people remember about their marriage is that King Henry divorced her.”

  “What a great way to go down in history,” Jessica spoke up from the seat in front of me.

  “Better than being the one whose head he chopped off.”

  My voice cut through the room and Jessica swiveled in her chair to face me, along with the rest of the class and Mr. McKendrick—I suppose that’s who he was in here.

  “Whose head did he chop off?” Jessica asked, horrified.

  I didn’t move other than to raise my eyes to my teacher.

  “Anne Boleyn’s.”

  Jessica spun back around to face the front of the room, as did the rest of the class.

  “It’s true,” he confirmed. “He pursued Anne Boleyn relentlessly. At first, he was with her sister, Mary—”

  “You mean he was screwing her,” Brandon joked as his friend gave him a high five. “Hell yeah.”

  Agreeing with the boys, Mr. McKendrick gave a slight nod of his head. “Yes, I guess you would be right. He was sleeping with her. She was his mistress.”

  “I doubt he was doing much sleeping,” Sam piped up.

  “Okay, settle down, would you? This isn’t personal health class.”

  Unable to help myself, I decided to speak up. “It could be.”

  As my teacher’s eyes found mine, he disagreed. “No, it couldn’t. That’s next month, and I’m sure it won’t be with me.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Usually the class was taught by Miss Shrieve. If I had my way, though, it would be much sooner than that. It would be a one-on-one class, and he’d be giving me a very private lesson.

  * * *

  Moving along so I wouldn’t fixate on the way Addison’s eyes were undressing me, I went back to the subject.

  “So, let’s get back on track. King Henry was married to Catherine when he started an affair with Mary Boleyn, Catherine’s lady-in-waiting.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Ass.”

  Refusing to be sidetracked, I ignored the comments and continued. “He, however, was drawn to, and became completely enamored with, her sister, Anne.”

  “Because she refused him.”

  Addison’s voice reached me from the back of the room, but I avoided eye contact.

  “Yes, at first. The king was quite persistent, though, and pursued her anyway. Some believe he did this because of Catherine’s inability to produce an heir, and the king, desperate to have a son, sought out a young woman of childbearing years. But many believe he chased Anne because she resisted his attempts, thus provoking the king into doing everything in his power to annul his marriage to Catherine. It was that act that served as one of the contributing factors leading up to the English Reformation.”

  The classroom was completely silent until Jessica asked, “So, why’d he chop off her head?”

  I laughed. Of course it’s the illicit details that captures the attention. It always is.

  “Well, that’s what we’re going to learn. It’s believed that while Anne’s intelligence and independence are what made her so attractive to the king in the first place, it was ultimately her downfall. She refused to be the woman behind the man and play the submissive role expected of her. Her spirited nature was intoxicating as a secret lover, but as a wife to a king? Her outspoken ways were frowned upon and eventually led to her”—stopping for dramatic effect, I drew my index finger across my throat—“execution.”

  The students began chattering as I moved back to the board and wrote, Ambition, adultery, and accusations. In the end, do you believe that Anne Boleyn got what she deserved?

  I placed the chalk down on the tray and faced the class. “Well, come on, what are you waiting for? Get writing. We’ll be meeting at the library tomorrow for further research, but for now use what you have.”

  As the students opened their books, I pulled my chair out and sat. I grabbed my own textbook and studied the photograph of Anne Boleyn.

  King Henry may have initially wanted her, but it was her own ambition that had gotten her everything she desired. Her seduction of him, now made legendary, was one that was forbidden and eventually deadly.

  Looking up, our eyes collided.

  Addison wasn’t unlike Anne.

  She was young, beautiful, and ambitious, and ever since I’d met her, she’d gone after exactly what she wanted.

  It just so happened to be me.

  * * *

  Present…

  “You know, you use to talk to me, Addison. When did that change?”

  I look at the man sitting beside me on the stone bench. He asked me to meet him outside by the fountain today.

  The sun is shining through the trees surrounding the facility, and I can hear birds in the distance. Angling my face toward the sun, I bask in the rays as it warms me. It feels like years instead of days since I’ve been outside.

  Subconsciously, I reach down to the watch strapped to my left wrist. I can’t hear it, but I know it’s—tick, tick, ticking—its way around the face.

  “When you stopped listening.” My voice is steady. It’s emotionless.

  “Is that what I did?”

  Opening my eyes, I face Doc. I can tell he’s waiting for me to say more, and for the first time—I want to tell him.

  I want to tell him that everyone stopped listening.

  Instead, I feel a tear, the first in weeks, as it escapes my eye and trails down over my cheek.

  “A
ddison?”

  I wipe it away and look back to the trees.

  “Addison, tell me.”

  Tell him what?

  That there is no one to care how I feel now that he is gone?

  No one cares that my dreams will never come true, not the way I want them to.

  He’d calmed me when no one else could.

  He’d saved me from myself.

  If only they knew the truth…

  But no one is listening, and his time is already up.

  Tick, tick, tock.

  * * *

  Past…

  My first three classes passed by, and as soon as the lunch bell rang, I was making my way back through the halls hoping to catch Mr—Grayson—before he left for lunch. I practically jogged toward the door at the very end. It was closed.

  I stood in front of it and took a deep breath before reaching out to turn the handle.

  Pushing it open, I stepped inside the room I’d been seated in earlier and saw him. He was standing at the back of the class pushing one of the chairs under its table when his eyes found mine, and he straightened.

  “Addison, you shouldn’t be in here.”

  He moved to the next chair and corrected it.

  “I needed to see you.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  I looked at the clock on the wall and noticed the second hand was moving, but instead of following it, I found I could turn away. “Yes, I did.”

  “Was there something you needed to discuss?” he asked, stopping where he was.

  I dropped my bag on the floor and locked the door behind me.

  “Unlock the door, Addison.”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “And I want you to unlock the door.”

  He strode up the aisle and was in front of me before I knew it. He grabbed my arm and led me to the far corner of the room before releasing me.

  “This is not the place.”

  “Then where is?”

  “Not here.” His agitation was evident as he paced the floor.

  “I want to see you again,” I told him. “I want you to see me.”