Forbidden: A Student Teacher Romance

by Amanda Heartley

  I chuckled humorlessly. “I think a little blood stain in the breakfast nook is the least of our worries right now, Mom.”

  She nodded, taking her eyes away from her precious cell phone to smile at me unconvincingly. “Isn’t that the truth?” she said, taking me right back to my childhood—it was one of her favorite sayings.

  I covered her hand with my own, feeling her skin cold and papery beneath my palm. She was only 57, but looked a good ten years older—and that was being generous.

  “Are you okay Mom? I don’t just mean about Roy and a stroke, I mean in general?”

  She snorted, avoiding my eyes and dragging her hands out from underneath mine to finally take a sip of her coffee. “Is anybody?” she huffed. “Are you?”

  I smiled noncommittally, realizing it was a rhetorical question and knowing Mom was too distracted for any type of real conversation at the moment. For now, all I could do was be here if she needed me, handle her affairs as best I could and lend a shoulder to cry on if it came to that.

  The nurses hadn’t said much, not with Mom hovering around the entire time, but it was clear that Roy’s situation was grave and that even if he recovered, it would take months, maybe even years, of intensive physical therapy to get him back on his feet.

  South Beach seemed a million miles away as I gritted my teeth and settled in for the long haul. “That’s it!” Mom announced, standing up abruptly from the table and snatching her cell phone in her cold little hands. “This feels too far away from Roy to be doing him any good. Do you mind if I go back up to ICU and wait for news, honey?”

  I smiled to think she knew me so little as to even ask. “Of course not, Mom. It’s just that they only allow one visitor a time. Maybe… maybe I can swing by the house, get settled and clean it up for when you’re ready to come home? Then come back in the morning when visiting hours start up again?”

  She was halfway to the bank of elevators just beyond where we sat in the cafeteria. “That’s a good idea honey,” she said distractedly, making me think she had no idea what I’d just said.

  “Will you be okay without me for a few hours?” I asked as she tapped relentlessly on the glowing red elevator button.

  “Of course I will dear,” she said with the slightest tone of bitterness. “I’ve been fine these last few years haven’t I?”

  Just then, the elevator doors opened and she walked in, tapping the buttons inside as furiously as she had the one on the outside. Our eyes met briefly as the doors began to shut and at last she offered me a reassuring smile just before they slid together.

  I sighed and reached for my coffee just as my own cell phone skittered across the table with an incoming call.

  “Kellan!” I exclaimed, grateful for his timing. “I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

  “Me too babe,” he exclaimed, the vague sound of static and wind in the background. “How you holding up?”

  “I’ll be a lot better once you get here,” I confessed.

  He had texted me not long after I left him there, lying naked and unaware in my king size bed. After learning of the reason for my late—night escape, he promised to hop in his car and follow me down, if for nothing else than the moral support.

  “Yeah, about that…” he murmured. “I’m running a little behind…”

  I bit my lip, suppressing my disappointment. “No worries babe,” I said as brightly as possible. “Get here when you can, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” he said as brightly as ever, as if we were planning a night out on the town and not my stepfather’s grueling recovery—that is, if he ever recovered at all.

  “Shouldn’t be more than a few hours,” he promised unconvincingly. “I just got a late start, that’s all. Where will you be?”

  I stood from the cafeteria table, tossing my empty coffee cup and Mom’s full one away before approaching the main lobby doors. “I thought I’d head home to Mom’s and get the lay of the land before heading back here in a few hours. But don’t worry about me. Just drive safely and I’ll see you when I see you, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” he chirped, brightening a little. “Hey, look out for the planter!”

  Chapter 22

  Kellan

  I watched Carla look up, face blank, her cell phone still pressed against one ear until she realized it was me leaning against my car as it idled in front of the lobby doors.

  She beamed, slid her phone in her purse and literally leapt into my arms. I grunted with relief to see her and then melted as she wrapped me in a hug that was more desperate than tender. I waited until her racking sobs were over to gently release her.

  “Better now?” I asked, offering her the cheap pack of gas station tissues I’d picked up on my way into town. She merely nodded, wiping mascara smudges around her eyes before blowing her nose. She had dressed quickly for the trip, in yoga pants and a misshapen pullover I’d never seen before. Her hair was up, her face washed out and yet I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in all my life.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said before taking me into another bear hug, this one free of sobs and snuffles.

  “Me too,” I murmured into her hair. “I actually made record time, but wanted to surprise you.”

  She pushed me away playfully, nodding energetically. “That you did.” I opened the door for her, waiting until she was sitting inside and buckled up before shutting it and walking around to the driver’s side door. She seemed so frail and silent as I put the car in drive and gently pulled away from Siesta Key Memorial Hospital.

  The parking lot was bright but the farther we got away from the hospital’s main entrance, the darkness returned to surround my black Lexus. After living in South Beach for so long, I’d forgotten that not every town in Florida was a bustling, cosmopolitan, neon melting pot of 24-hour activity.

  Rather, Siesta Key was old-school Florida, primitive, secluded and wild. Beyond the Super Savings gas station I’d hit on the way into town, I’d seen little to no corporate chain activity since. No brand name fast food joints or big-name eateries on this little island. Just a random scattering of coffee shops and ice cream parlors and bait shops and newsstands, all quite shuttered for the evening—or should I say, early morning.

  “Talk about culture shock,” I teased, squeezing her knee as we waited at a deserted stoplight.

  She nodded absently, head turned to gaze out the window. “Now you can see why I was so eager to come to South Beach,” she said in a small little voice.

  “Were you born here? I asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, Kellan, you are in the presence of a rare native Floridian.”

  “I’m impressed,” I said with mock snobbery.

  She ignored me, still peering quietly out the tented windows as her little seaside town passed by. “I should’ve come home sooner,” she said.

  I reached for her hand to squeeze it. “Don’t think that way, Carla. You’re here now. That’s what counts.”

  She turned from the window, simultaneously easing back against her seat and turning slightly toward me wearing a wry grand. “When did you get so wise, Obi Wan?”

  “I guess on the drive down from South Beach,” I teased. “I’m just saying, families are complicated and you can’t beat yourself up over what happened in the past.”

  She nodded, but I could tell by the cut of her stubborn chin she wasn’t really heeding my advice. “I guess coming home just always reminded me of my dad. My first dad, I mean. Before he died, we’d go everywhere in Siesta Key together. In his car, on our bikes, one year we even gave each other skateboards for Christmas and rode all over town for weeks. Being here again, I see his face everywhere we go. Maybe that’s why I stayed away so long. It’s hard to tell my mother all that, especially when I love Roy so much.”

  I nodded as what passed for downtown Siesta Key retreated in my rearview mirror. “Blended families are hard. I’m sure your mother will understand once things settle down. She’s probably still in shock.”

  We p
aused at another stop light and I turned to her. “Am I even going in the right direction?” I asked, realizing I’d never bothered to get directions from her before we left the hospital.

  She snorted playfully, shaking her head. “No,” she giggled. “But I was enjoying your advice so much, I didn’t want to interrupt you and tell you to turn around and go the other way!”

  Chapter 23

  Carla

  I woke with a start, strange arms around me, strange walls closing in, strange smells flooding the room. I lay where I was, panic clenching my chest, peering around the strange room until I realized where I was: Mom’s guest room.

  It was Kellan’s arms around me, his breath warm on the back of my neck as I untangled from his gentle embrace and slid from the day bed where we’d lain only a few hours earlier, just “to rest our eyes”.

  Moonlight streamed in through the open window, soft and gentle, as I crept from the room so as not to disturb him. It felt strange, being in Mom’s house. I hadn’t grown up here, Mom had moved out of our childhood home not long after dad died and both of us living in an apartment on Mosquito Bay until she’d met Roy and settled into the house on the beach. I’d moved away shortly afterward and, aside from the occasional holiday visit, hadn’t been home since.

  Now it felt like walking through a stranger’s hallway, the walls lined with smiling pictures of Mom and Roy: on vacation, on the beach, at a theme park, but mostly on his charter fishing boat, The Good Life. I perused them slowly as I crept toward the kitchen, the lights still burning, door unlocked, our hastily packed overnight bags still on the little bench in the foyer where we’d left them.

  It was barely 4 AM but between the frantic makeup sex with Kellan and the late night visit to my office, to say nothing of the frantic drive down to the Keys, my internal clock must have been spinning like a top. I sighed and brewed a pot of coffee, realizing I hardly needed it halfway through the pot.

  I sank down onto the kitchen table to wait for it to brew, noting a stack of mail that looked new but untouched. I began to sift through it with a mounting sense of dread. Most were bills, many marked with big, red “Urgent” stickers pasted to the outside, some even marked “Second Notice,” a few marked “Third Notice”.

  Nearby sat a legal pad, Roy’s nearly illegible script tallying the costs to keep his boat afloat every month and what he owed the Sunrise Marina for slip rental and fuel fees. I looked away before I could read the final tally, my heart already racing—and that was before I poured myself a cup of coffee.

  I made it to go, the cluttered walls of the small coastal cottage and the mounting bills all seeming to close in on me at once. I felt better on the deck, the fragrant sea breeze briny and rich as I crept toward the small, warped walkway that cut through the dunes fronting Roy and Mom’s house and led to the wide, sandy beach.

  My feet were bare, the sand soft and warm as I sipped my coffee and grew entranced by the gently rolling waves beneath the clear moonlight. The sky was cloudless and dark, save for the shimmering half-moon that made the water so inviting I couldn’t help myself.

  Peering left and right, eager to shed more than just my clothes, I found the beach deserted and stripped quickly until I raced, naked and free, into the waves. The water was warm and with each footstep, I left my cares behind me, however temporarily. Miami Models, South Beach, Roy’s grave condition, Mom’s unkempt appearance, the mounting debt… it washed away with each crashing wave or rolling crest.

  I dove beneath the surface, wild and free, brushing my hair back away from my face as I peered back at the dune lines. Mom and Roy lived on a long, thin strip of beach far from the maddening crowd, the lights in their humble beach shack burning bright—the only ones for miles.

  I felt almost primitive, so far removed from the hustle and bustle of South Beach, so alone and remote here in the sea, my life temporarily on hold as I enjoyed a quiet moment amid the hurricane.

  The only thing missing from my perfect moment, I realized, was Kellan…

  Chapter 24

  Kellan

  I woke up disoriented in the strange, empty house. Stumbling through the darkened living room, I slowly acclimated to my surroundings but still felt a vague sense of panic, wondering if perhaps I’d missed something. Had Carla gotten an alarming text while I was asleep and raced to the hospital? Had her stepfather’s health taken a turn for the worse?

  I spotted a French door half-open and crept through it onto a salty back deck. The moon cast its silver light down upon a small sandy trail that led through sparse dunes onto a flat and empty beach.

  I followed it, only to find a lone figure splashing in the surf. Carla looked radiant beneath the soft moonlight, her naked skin aglow and full breasts glistening and damp. I approached cautiously, realizing instinctively that I was interrupting a private moment—and yet I had to creep closer if only to watch it unfold for myself.

  I tried to deny the stiffening in my boxer shorts as I stood barefoot on the sand, watching her frolicking in the surf as if enjoying a blissful moment – a sense of calm before the approaching storm. I don’t know how long I stood there admiring her naked form glistening in the ocean froth. I was still half asleep, but every bounce and jiggle found me more and more awake. I wanted to go to her, to comfort her and, of course, caress her and yet I remained on the beach, respectful of her situation.

  Then she saw me, her face frozen in surprise for a moment, as if not realizing it was me sitting there alone on the beach. Then she smiled and waved and I knew, just from the look in her eye, that she wanted one more thrill, one more moment of wild abandon, before reality crashed back in.

  She strode from the surf, dripping and magnificent and sank to her knees on the towel where I sat. Without a word she kissed me, breathless and passionate, as I sank back, my head and shoulders half off the towel and landing in the soft, warm sand. She climbed atop of me as our bodies merged and she ground and ran her salty skin against mine.

  We spoke not a word as she panted and pawed and dragged my boxers down until she could grind her damp pussy along my stiffening cock. She took me in hand and immediately found the sweet wet spot that led to heaven and beyond. She slid it just inside her with the same feverish hands that tugged on my shorts and, once in place, rode me like a creature from the sea. We had never done it that way before: passionate and immediate, without a good hour of foreplay first. I could sense the need and want coming off of her in waves, even more so when she clung desperately to me and rolled over onto her back.

  Still wedged deep inside of her, she spread her legs and used them to encircle my waist, clasping her feet at the small of my back and using them to lure me deeper inside, harder, faster, again and again. The towel was long gone, her skin damp and hair sandy as we rolled and fucked and thrust and parried on the deserted shore. We came at the same time, frothy, wet, and crying out, our voices lost amid the crashing of waves and the pounding of our hearts.

  I slid from on top of her, lying on my side in the sand. Sticky and damp, she sighed huskily and stood, dragging me up with her. I followed her into the sea where we washed off our lust and embraced gently in the waves lapping against our thighs.

  “Good morning,” I murmured between soft gentle kisses.

  “How did you know I’d be out here?” she asked, taking me by the hand and leading me back out of the waves. She grabbed the towel as we passed, not waiting for an answer as we steadily approached the back of her family’s beach cottage.

  It looked weathered and beaten—down from the outside, not matching the cluttered and cozy interior as we passed through and stood in the laundry room drying each other off. We stumbled naked through the house, until we found our bags and dressed quickly for the day. We are quietly in the kitchen and I could feel her pulling away with every bite of stale raisin toast.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Besides the obvious?” she huffed. I put my half eaten piece of toast back down on a plate and level my eyes at her
. “You know that’s not what I meant, Carla.”

  She nodded, putting her toast down as well. “I’m sorry, Kellan, I’m just not sure what to do. All I know is what’s happening, just can’t happen anymore.”

  I nodded. “I want to be with you Carla, but I understand the family dynamics. Maybe I… should stay somewhere else for a few days? At least until we have a better lay of the land and how your stepfather’s doing?” It had been almost a rhetorical suggestion, and yet she looked so relieved I wasn’t surprised when she leapt at the offer.

  “Thanks for being so understanding babe,” she said, washing her plate and leaving it to dry in the sink. “I just think things are strained enough with my mom to not add another layer of difficulty.”

  I nodded, figuring this wasn’t a time to remind her that I wasn’t the “difficulty” – not this time, anyway. Instead I merely rinsed my plate off as well and followed her to the door. We drove separately back into town, Carla turning left as we approached the hospital and me going straight, finding myself in a strange town, looking for a hotel room at the break of dawn.

  Chapter 25

  Carla

  I saw Kellan before my mom did, looking handsome and casual in a pair of cargo pants and a soft cotton Siesta Key T-shirt he must’ve gotten at a souvenir stand in town. He looked radiant under the midday sunlight, and it felt odd to see him standing on the dock near my stepfather’s boat, appropriately named “Roy’s Retreat”. I gave a little wave and mom must’ve sensed the motion for she turned and spotted him as well.

  “Oh dear,” she murmured as we turned onto the dock from the marina’s main entrance. “You weren’t kidding when you said you said he was a male model.” Kellan smiled as we approached, looking even handsomer as my mother, ever the coquette, peeled away from my side and wrapped him in a big bear hug.