In the meantime, I’m just going to love her like crazy. And tell her so, all the time. Because I do.
Still inside of her, I lean down and rest my chest against her back. I pull the tie from around her eyes so I can watch her lashes flutter against her cheek while she comes down, her heartbeat slowing beneath me. Eventually our breathing evens out and I slide my hand up to where hers is resting on the desk. I curl my pinky around hers and run my nose along the sensitive skin behind her ear. “I love you, Erin.”
My heart is filled close to bursting when she smiles and says, “I love you, too, Shep.”
Thank you for reading Taming His Teacher, I hope you enjoyed Shep and Erin’s story. If you want more elegant superfilth, you’ll want to one click Alpha in the Sheets. Turn the page for an excerpt. There’s also a sugar-sweet bonus Christmas story for Erin and Shep at the very end of this book, so don’t forget to flip all the way through to “A Hawthorn Hill Christmas.”
Alpha in the Sheets
I like my men the way I like my drinks: tall, stiff, with a few aches the only proof I pounded them the night before.
I don’t do relationships. I don’t do romance. I do kinky AF strangers I never speak to again. Or I did, until Cris Ardmore comes along.
Handsome, charming, and cooks almost as well as he f*cks—which is to say phenomenally—Cris makes me want to break all my carefully cultivated rules. I don’t want to like him and I definitely can’t afford to trust him. Not after what happened the last time I fell in love. The only thing Cris is supposed to be in charge of during our dirty weekends is my body, he needs to keep his too-talented hands off my heart.
Cris leads me back to the main room and over to the table. Patting the short end, he says “Up you go,” and releases me.
I press up onto the table, leaving my legs and feet dangling over the side. He unclips my hair and runs his fingers through it until it’s flowing down my back.
“I’ll be right back.” He touches my arm on his way past, and I watch him walk over to the chest of drawers and slide one open and shut. When he comes back, he’s got a pair of leather cuffs in his hand. They’re brown and well-used, so they’ll be comfortable and won’t chafe.
“Hands.”
I offer them to him, palms up, and he fastens the cuffs on my wrists smoothly. Yes, he’s well-practiced. When he’s finished, he grips my hipbones and scoots me back on the smooth table.
“Knees into your chest.”
I’m not sure what his game is, but I do as I’m asked. Still sitting, I bend my knees until my thighs are pressed against my torso and my feet are flat on the table. He comes to my side, wraps an arm around my waist, and cradles the back of my head in his other hand. “Back you go.”
Having the bare skin of his chest and forearms on mine is the most heavenly feeling. He’s warm and in good shape, more like from honest physical labor than spending hours in a gym. I like it, very much. I sink into his grasp, and he lays me back on the table. I’m pliant already, comfortable following his gentle instructions. Sometimes it takes me a while to acclimate to a Dom’s style, but this is easy. He slides my cuffed wrists over my head and clips them to an anchor point I can’t see. When he’s done, he takes a step back.
“Very nice.”
I have to agree. He has a very nice body I’m getting to admire more closely. I still haven’t been able to discern what the medal around his neck is, though.
He traces a path from my tethered wrists down to my shoulders and my ribcage before cupping my breasts, stroking his thumbs over my nipples again until they peak under his touch. I arch my back, pushing them into his hands.
“You like to be touched?”
“Yes, sir.”
He starts to knead at me. Gently at first, then harder, the sweet attentions of earlier left behind. I press my feet into the table.
“You’re a responsive little thing, aren’t you? You can close your eyes, kitten.”
Kitten! This just keeps getting better. I mewl to let him know I liked it and take advantage of his invitation. Thank god. Not that I don’t enjoy looking at him—on the contrary—but having my eyes closed makes it easier to behave and increases the intensity of the sensations. A win-win.
He works me over, and as he hasn’t demanded I be quiet or still, I give him cues when he’s done something I particularly enjoy: a groan here, a squirm there. He’s a fast learner, and it’s not long before I’m writhing under his attentions, careful to keep my feet flat on the table. He’s got me pretty riled up when he starts to hush me. I’m not surprised but only a little disappointed. Of course it’s not going be this easy. What fun would that be?
I calm under his gentling and open my eyes. He’s smiling down at me, a knowing, predatory smile. “You’re such a treat to watch. Beautiful. And this is only the beginning.”
I can’t help the moan that escapes at his promise, and he shakes his head. “This time you’ll be quiet.”
“Yes, sir,” I squeak, and I’m rewarded by a hard squeeze to my breasts. This is going to be good. He starts in on me again, picking up the intensity, and I’m glad he’s only asked me to be quiet and not still, too, because he’s driving me insane. His fingers dig into me as he squeezes. It’s only just not painful—precisely how I like it. His fingers grasp my nipples, and he pinches and rolls them before tugging hard. My gasp is followed by a slap to the side of my breast.
“I said quiet.” His voice is sharp, and he doesn’t pause in his torments.
“Yes, sir.”
Fuck am I in trouble, and he knows it. My breathless response gave me away. He teases me before tugging sharply again. While I don’t gasp, I can’t help the strangled grunt he’s forced out of me. My disobedience results in another slap, this time to my other breast, and a warning.
“I said no noise. If you make another sound, it will mean punishment and not the little reminders you’ve been getting. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” I don’t know whether to hope for this or not. First punishments are telling, and I can’t say I’m not curious about what this might mean for Cris. I’ve been caned for less, although I suspect that’s not his style. Not yet at any rate.
He torments me for another few minutes, driving me wild with his talented and sure hands. He’s going to go for it again, so I steel myself and manage to stay quiet. But he’s a stubborn and wily son of a bitch, and he does it again, more sharply, yielding a squeal. This isn’t idle threats and disappointment. He wants to punish me. I get another slap to my right breast, followed quickly by one to my left, harder this time.
His hands are on either side of my ribcage, and he leans over me, his mouth brushing by my ear. “It’s such a shame you’re so badly behaved. I was starting to enjoy myself.”
I whimper in response and get a hand at my throat.
“And how should we punish you, pet?” He poses his question idly, as if he has all the time in the world to compose a dissertation on the topic. “So many ways to pink up your pretty pale skin and help you learn to do as you’re told.”
Click to read Alpha in the Sheets now!
Thank You!
If you’d like to know when my next book is available, you can sign up for my new release mailing list at tamsenparker.com or follow me on social media (see the full list on my About the Author page).
Reviews help readers discover books. I appreciate all reviews and the time it takes to share your thoughts.
You’ve just read Taming His Teacher. Turn the page for a full listing of my books. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you’ll keep in touch!
Also by Tamsen Parker
The After Hours Series
Alpha in the Sheets
Bound in the Streets
Reclaiming His Wife
For His Eyes Only
A Heart to Keep
Insidious
The Snow and Ice Games Series
Love on the Tracks
Seduction on the Slopes
On the
Edge of Scandal
Fire on the Ice
On the Brink of Passion
The License to Love Series
Thrown Off Track
The Inside Track
Hot on Her Tracks (Release Date TBD)
Camp Firefly Falls
In Her Court
Love, All
Standalone Novels
Taming His Teacher
His Custody (Re-releasing Fall 2019)
For Her Own Good (Releasing October 22 2019)
If I Loved You Less
Short Stories and Novellas
Needs
(Originally published in the Winter Rain anthology)
Looking for a Complication
(Originally published in the For the First Time anthology)
Dedication of a Lifetime
(Originally published in the Rogue Affair anthology)
Craving Flight
Anthologies
Rogue Desire
Rogue Affair
Rogue Hearts
Rogue Ever After
Best Women’s Erotica of the Year Volume Four
About the Author
Tamsen Parker is a USA Today bestselling romance writer, with books in the erotic romance, hot contemporary, sports, and now sweet subgenres, and writes about f/f, m/f, and m/m couples falling for each other. The Lesbian Review named both IF I LOVED YOU LESS and FIRE ON THE ICE to their Top 15 Books of 2018, and IN HER COURT as one of the Top 10 Audiobooks of 2018. Her novella CRAVING FLIGHT was named to the Best of 2015 lists of Heroes and Heartbreakers, Smexy Books, Romance Novel News, and Dear Author. Heroes and Heartbreakers called her After Hours series “bewitching, humorous, erotically intense and emotional.”
Acknowledgments
A huge thank-you to Courtney Miller-Callihan for finding a home for this book and then helping me get it back when the time was right—you’re the best agent a girl could ask for.
Also thanks to AJ and Piper, my beta readers, who gave me the courage to put this weird little story out in the world.
To my friends MTS, LG, EH, and KO for being onboard with whatever I decide to write next, and especially to AJ for putting together the outing that inspired this story. Also a very special thank-you to MRF for being willing to help me with math terms, since I’m far better with words than numbers.
Gratitude to Mr. Parker and Kidlet for dealing with the ups and downs of having a creative professional in the family. We won’t have takeout for dinner again tomorrow, promise! Okay, maybe . . .
To Cindy, Kristine, and the rest of my crew at InterMix, thank you for all your hard work, I’m so glad to have had you on my team for the first iteration of this book when it was released as School Ties.
And, as always, bottomless appreciation to my readers and reviewers. I couldn’t do any of this without you.
A Hawthorn Hill Christmas
Erin
It’s our second Christmas together, and I cannot wait for Shep to wake up. Usually when I get up before him (which is almost always since my husband is not a morning person) I go out to the living room so I won’t wake him with my fidgeting. But I can’t today, because his mom is staying on our couch for a few days for the holiday. Caleb really hadn’t wanted to go home for the month-long winter break and we weren’t about to make him.
Their dad has been better but still not great, so we invited their parents to Hawthorn for the holiday. While Christy was excited, Doug passed. Fine with us. It still leaves me trying my very, very best to be still and quiet even though it is Christmas morning, and there are presents under the tree. Not a lot, but enough that the spread had made Caleb’s eyes go wide when he’d brought his backpack over a few days ago with stuff from his dorm room hastily crammed in. It’s not like he needs to worry if he forgot something—his other room is right across campus.
To prepare for the festivities, I went all out with the decorating—it looks like the North Pole threw up in our apartment, there’s even tinsel in the bathroom—and with the cookies since it’s not like I can provide anything special in the way of Christmas dinner. Luckily, Uncle Rett and Aunt Tilly took pity on us and we’ll be having the afternoon meal with them. Tilly promised to make pot roast for Shep, and I think he might be more excited for that than he is for his presents under the tree.
He shouldn’t be.
I’ve been saving my money for almost a year, and Shep is going to be delighted. Not just by his actual present, but by how much planning and foresight I put into it. He is going to love, love, love it. So much. I can’t wait.
My excitement can’t be contained apparently, because Shep rolls over with a sleepy grunt and flops a heavy arm over my mid-section before snuggling into my side.
“Why’re you up so early, lamb?”
I love his sleep-musty smell, the weight of his warm body, and usually I’d encourage him to maybe start a little something. Begin our morning with a bang. But Caleb and Christy are here, so we’ll behave ourselves. Mostly. We’ll still play our little games, and they’ll have no idea. It’s kind of like being a dirty secret agent.
“I’m sorry I woke you. But it’s Christmas, and I just—it’s Christmas, and I can’t wait to give you your present.”
He huffs a laugh, kisses my neck, and then bites my shoulder. “Are you sure it’s not about getting your present? Because I think you’re gonna like that too.”
Of that, I have no doubt. We don’t have a lot of money, but he always gives me really thoughtful gifts. Things he knows I’ll enjoy, and frequently there are two. One I can show people, tell people about when they ask and another, not so much.
“I know I will.”
He seems to have fallen back asleep so I try to occupy myself so I don’t disturb him again. It’s impossible. I don’t have any work to do for a few days at least, all the presents are wrapped, and the holiday preparations are done. Having to be still is killing me. When I just can’t handle it anymore, Shep laughs in that quiet, adoring way because he knows I’m not the best at being still when I’m excited. It’s something he uses to his advantage when we play.
“There might be a little something under the bed to keep you occupied until Caleb and my mom get up.”
He laughs more when I practically fall out of bed so I can grab what’s waiting for me. It’s flat and wrapped terribly because that is not Shep’s strong suit, but the wrapping doesn’t last long anyway. I rip it off in a flurry, and under the paper is a sticker book. A grown-up one where you can make famous works of art by matching the stickers to the spaces like a sticker-by-number, but a sticker book nonetheless.
I love it.
I scramble back into bed, arrange my pillow so I can sit up and before I dig in, lean over to brush a bit of hair off his forehead before I press a kiss there.
“Thank you, Zach. It’s perfect.”
“Welcome, lamb.”
And while he goes back to sleep, I set to the project he’s given me, content.
Shep
The smell of bacon frying is what finally rouses me. My mom must be making breakfast, because except for baking, Erin stays far away from our kitchen. I’ve gotten better with some basics, but let’s just say it’s a good thing we eat ninety percent of our meals in the dining hall with the guys.
Cracking open an eye, I half-expect Erin to be gone from the bed since my mom and Caleb are already up—no way my little brother has slept through the smell of bacon. He eats like two horses and the four inches he’s sprung up since he got here proves it. He’s still kinda skinny, but I think that’s just his build. Wiry and lean, he’s not inclined to bulk up. Not that he needs to—he plays squash for his required sport, and the rest of the time he’s in the theater. And on student council. And in Model UN. And on yearbook and the student paper. He’s flourishing here, and Erin is killing it as the Chair of the math department, and basically everything is right in my world.
Which is why Erin is still in our bed, her gift spread across her lap, a look of extreme conc
entration furrowing her brow.
“It’s ‘sposed to be fun, lamb.”
She turns her head, a shy smile lighting up her face. “It is. I love it. I just don’t want to mess it up.”
My sweet lamb. Well, as long as she’s enjoying it.
“You ready to get up now? Smells like my mom’s making breakfast. Which means Caleb’s up and probably chomping at the bit to open his presents under the tree.”
“Do we have to eat first?”
“Yeah, we have to eat first. You don’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings, right?”
Erin shakes her head, because of course not. She and my mom get along really well, and it makes me happy to see them together. I talked to my mom a bit last night after Caleb and Erin had gone to bed, and things are better with her and my dad. With me and Caleb out of the house, he’s less stressed about money, and she’s convinced him to cut back on the drinking. He’s still kind of a jackass, but he doesn’t yell hardly at all, and that’s a huge improvement. Hopefully he’ll keep getting better and she’ll keep getting happier. And if not, we’ll figure out a way to move her up here. Maybe not in Hawthorn because it’s pretty ritzy but in a town close by.
Taming His Teacher Page 29
