Teacher's Pet - The Complete Series: Books 1-4

by Avery Phillips

  “You from around here?” He tipped his drink to his mouth, but this time he swallowed it down in one smooth gulp.

  It was nice to have someone flirting with me, smiling my way, making conversation. The normal things people liked to do to show interest, not involving tearing each other’s clothes off. “No, I’m not from here originally,” I said, once I’d found my voice and some confidence. “I’m a student at the university so I moved here to study. How about you? You from the Bay Area?”

  Pete smiled, leaned closer to me and placed his drink on the table next to him. He had full pink lips and thick, sweeping eyelashes, and those corn-blue eyes were doing things to me I didn’t expect.

  “I’m here visiting with some buddies.” I felt the heat radiating off his body “But I actually live in Quebec.”

  He didn’t look Canadian to me, but what did I know? Before today I had never met one before. “I’ve never been to Quebec before, but I heard it was a beautiful place.”

  “Quebec is very beautiful, actually. Maybe you can visit me sometime. I’ll show you around.”

  I giggled like a schoolgirl. I was so bad at flirting, but it didn’t really matter. I probably wouldn’t see him again after this.

  “So, Miss… whatever your name is. Would you like to dance?” He held out his arm. I wrapped around it with mine and we headed to the dance floor. “Lynora,” I screamed over the music. “My name is Lynora.” The loud, thumping speakers pumping music above our heads were drowning out every word I said.

  Pete looked confused, but figured it out by reading my lips as he shouted, “It’s really nice to meet you, Lynora. Sorry, I could hardly hear a thing.”

  As we got close to each other on the dance floor, I could smell the alcohol on Pete’s breath. Funny, I didn’t notice that before. I assumed he’d been drinking for some time before I noticed him, but what the hell—it was a club. That was what you did.

  By the third song, unfortunately, Pete got a little too comfortable; a little too sweaty, a little too drunk and, as far as I was concerned, way too forward for my taste. He slipped his hands down my back and ran them along my waist before resting them my hips like I was born with them there. He eventually grabbed my ass.

  I had to pause before I reacted. My first instinct was to scream or, better yet, slap him as hard as I could across the face; make such a huge scene that the bouncers came over, grabbed him by the neck and tossed him out on his ass. But instead I stayed calm and stopped dancing for a moment, and gave him a look of warning so he’d know not to do it again, but Pete liked to learn his lessons hard.

  Pete just got more persistent. He grabbed my waist again and pulled me close to him. I could feel his hard-on pressing against my stomach. I felt grossed out and violated. Before I could react and slap him like I wanted, he was yanked by the collar and dragged away backwards, sliding through the crowd on his heels.

  A bouncer must’ve seen us, caught on to my distress and decided to intervene. He must’ve kicked Pete out before he started any more trouble, or worse, before someone decided to call the police. But none of that happened. I was wrong, oh so wrong. As I turned around to face my knight in shining armor, I found him to be Simon Foster.

  Lesson # 5

  The heart has no reason to lie

  “No matter where I went or what was going on, there was no denying how I felt about Simon.” -Lynora Minnelli

  Lynn

  It seemed like I couldn’t escape Simon no matter what I did. No matter where I went or how far I was willing to go. He was there every time I turned around. I had gone to the club to get out of my funk and to have a good time, but I blinked and there he was, towering over me with his chest sticking out and a look of pure anger plastered over his face. He had on a black blazer, blue jeans, a white shirt and black leather boots. Everything seemed to fit him perfectly.

  Simon’s chest rose and fell. He stood stiff as a board with fury in his eyes, as he crooked his finger, signaling for me to follow him out. He pointed toward the exit, but I wasn’t in the mood to be submissive, so I stood my ground, my arms folded over my chest, a defiant look in my eyes I knew he’d hate.

  Simon walked up to me and said, “Please,” in my ear. I felt the warmth of his breath for the first time in weeks. It ate at my resolve in bite-sized chunks.

  I opened my mouth but nothing came out, or it did but Simon couldn’t hear me. My answer was no, and resoundingly so, a statement of rebellion and self-preservation. And I meant it, or so I thought—why did I say it so softly? If I meant it, then why didn’t I shout it out loud, turn around and storm off like I should have? Simon waited for me with patience. He didn’t say another word, he didn’t force the issue, he just stood there waiting and staring at me.

  After the most epic stare-down that ever was, I eventually gave in. I lost, I know. Go figure. The man was my weakness and I never denied he was, not once, so I followed him outside to see what he wanted, in hopes that he might have wanted me.

  We gathered under the awning, escaping the pouring rain. The wind was picking up and it was miserable.

  “What are you doing here, Simon?” I asked, feigning indignation, but inside I was happy to see his face. I wanted to wrap my arms around the width of his shoulders and squeeze them, tell him I missed him. But of course, if I did I was facing rejection, and I couldn’t go down that road so soon again. I was rubbing my arms, trying to warm them up from the cold. It was freezing outside. It was almost unbearable.

  “I came here to get a drink. You know? Try and forget my troubles. I have a lot on my mind, in case you’ve forgotten. I need a little something to relax me.”

  I tried to ignore the jab and the pain in my gut that it caused. “Still stalking the young pretty, I see. Don’t you think this club is a little too young for you? Shouldn’t you go to a place more suited for people your age?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not that old, Lynn and apparently you’re not old enough to know better than to accuse someone of something that was never actually proven.”

  We were falling back in our ridiculous routine. It was annoying and comfortable and familiar at the same time.

  “You’re stalking me again, aren’t you? That’s where I have more than enough proof for them to convict you. They don’t call you Professor Perv for nothing; picking up young girls and turning them out. Doing whatever you want to them. Making them believe that they like that kinky stuff. Fucking them then dumping them like trash.”

  I couldn’t help it. I almost cracked a smile. No matter where I went or what was going on, there was no denying how I felt about Simon. Just standing there in front of him, not being able to reach out and touch him. It was driving me crazy to the point where I was being a bitch and getting some pleasure from it.

  “Young girls are not my style; you should know that. But perhaps you don’t know me at all. That’s the problem. I wanted to be with you because you are who you are. Not because I have some student-teacher fetish.”

  I started to feel that I should go back inside before I begged him for forgiveness or something shameful like that, but damn he looked so delicious and tall. I could’ve licked him from his head to his toes. “Well, I need to get back in, catch up with my friends. It was nice to see you, Simon. Talk to you on Monday… or not.”

  I turned around and went to open the door, but my heel got caught in a crevice. I stopped my movement, but not before I pulled, broke the heel and fell to my ass on the sidewalk. Simon reached down, grabbed my arm and pulled me up. He waited until I was stable and could stand upright on my own two feet. He then bent down to the ground and picked up my heel, looking up from one knee like he was handing me a ring, but it was just a heel, broken and useless.

  Simon proceeded to kiss my ankle. He held my heel in his hands, barely missing a spot from my ankle to my knee, kissing everything in between. I stayed as still as a statue, afraid that if I moved it could chase Simon off and leave me devastated, shivering in the rain. My legs were starting
to weaken when Simon rose up off his knees and grabbed me around my waist, scooping me up in his arms like I was a baby. He pulled me in to him so tight I melted into his arms again. I should’ve felt funny about it, but I didn’t. I was feeling warm for the first time since I came out here.

  Simon led me out from under the awning in the rain, around the side of the building. We weren’t hidden and not alone. There were people in their cars that could see us through their windows and hear us if they rolled them down, but I didn’t give a damn.

  All I wanted was for Simon to continue to touch me; until my cleft was glistening with pleasure, until silken fluids ran down my legs like rain, until I was wetter than the puddle beneath my feet. I wanted to beg for mercy at his hands. I wanted to have him forgive me for my young and stupid mistakes. I wanted him to tell me he cared and everything would be okay.

  Simon licked my lips with the tip of his tongue, circled around their lining. I felt my center quiver at the apex of my legs. My treasured pearl of passion felt engorged. I began to think of my thong as just another barrier to what I truly wanted. Rainwater dripped down my face. My vest was soaked, and I was wet with arousal as Simon kissed the raindrops off the contour of my chin.

  I ran my fingers along his skin under his shirt. His forehead furrowed as I raked him with my nails, while pressing my hips against the hardness of his cock until it nearly busted out of his pants and broke the zipper. “Release me,” he whispered. I heard him but waited, not wanting to give in too soon or right away. But the urge to do as he asked was still a hard thing not to fight. “I said release me, Lynn! Unzip my pants and pull out my cock!”

  He sounded frantic, serious, demanding. I felt a pang for him in my loins. I reached for his pants and pulled down his zipper slow, and as I did his member sprang out to greet me, hard and thick. Cum was at his tip, spilling over his shaft. I wanted to taste his essence on my tongue.

  “Put your hand on me, Lynn.”

  I wasn’t going to resist anymore. I wanted him to force it inside me, and I was drenched in more ways than one.

  I reached down and wrapped my hand around his shaft. It was cold, so he jumped when I touched his cock. The rain came down harder, louder, falling in sheets, but we could drown for all I cared. As long as we met our demise together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  I began stroking him with an insistent rhythm as he kissed and nibbled on my neck. He reached under my skirt, and I lifted my leg as I wrapped my thigh around him, pulling him closer to my feminine haven. He could reach me more easily now. I moaned when his fingers brushed the hood of my clit after he pulled my thong gently to the side. He was driving me crazy, so I picked up my pace, stroked his member harder, faster; I wanted him releasing in my hands and spilling into my palms like an offering to the gods.

  “Lynn, oh my God!” he said in my ear, as he nibbled on my lobe and kissed slowly on my neck. Gooseflesh erupted on my skin. Simon pulled my panties down; they fell around my ankles then slipped around my feet onto the concrete. He pinned me against the wall; my ass went cold, wet with rain. I could feel his shaft brush against my center. I wanted to beg to have him shove his manhood deep inside me. No mercy, no yielding, no holding back, just full-throttle fucking until I screamed for him to stop.

  He teased me with the thickness of his head against my folds, thrusting a little forward, pulling it out, repeating it again. “Hurry up and fuck me!” I pressed for him to move. I felt a touch of pain, along with excruciating pleasure. His girth was easing in me and I still hadn’t adjusted, so I felt a little scared when I gritted my teeth and I asked him, “What are you doing, professor? Waiting for approval? You’re a man. Bear down and stick it in me!”

  Simon didn’t need any further provoking.

  He slammed his cock in me hard; I couldn’t stifle the scream as the thunder and lightning crashed. Chaos was over our heads, but that was what we were there for. I clawed on him again, leaving angry red marks on his body. Beautiful destruction and exquisite agony. I would leave him something to remember.

  My passage couldn’t stop quivering; a familiar feeling traveled sharply up my body as waves of pleasure washed over me like torrential rain from the storm. I held on for the ride as tightly as I could. I wasn’t ready for it to end. Our energies released together, and we called each other’s names in the dark of the night and in the rain for all those who dared to see.

  The storm had swallowed our sounds; they had nearly died as we spasmed together. He moaned, pulled out and spilled on the street. I shuddered as I felt the vacancy. Sharp electrical pulses were my aftermath. My body fell forward. I leaned in to his arms. For several special moments I gasped and panted, feeling aftershocks, my breathing shallow.

  The magic between us was broken. As Simon pushed away and pulled up his pants, my sensitive vacant space needed filling. “I’m still mad at you, Lynn.” His eyebrows knitted together. “This thing that we did… it doesn’t mean we’re back together.”

  It hurt to hear those words, but I knew. Simon spoke nothing but the truth. I had a feeling from the beginning that it didn’t mean what I wanted; that we were brokenhearted and craving each other, but it didn’t mean anything was fixed.

  “Were we ever together, Simon?” I had a pleading look in my eyes as my teeth started to chatter; I was feeling the bite of the cold in my bones. I could see him lose his edge. His eyes had softened. He was human.

  “I thought we were,” was the last thing he said before Bobbi came out with Sonja trailing behind her. Both looking confused and both searching for where I’d gone. Simon took the opportunity to hop on his bike and leave without saying goodbye. Not one backwards glance, not a kiss on the cheek not a “babe, you know I miss you,” no nothing. Just a rev of his engine and a billow of smoke, and Simon sped down the road with my heart in his hands. At that moment, I hated him.

  Lesson # 6

  Drunkenness can lead to more than a headache

  “Everything I said, and everything I’ve done, the guilt, the fear, bad decisions I’ve made, all came up at once.” -Lynora Minnelli

  Lynn

  It was around three in the morning when Bobbi and Sonja had to practically carry me home. I recalled a lot of giggling and bumping into things, trying to get through the door and to my bed. Once Simon sped away, I went back in the club and broke all vows to myself in regards to never drinking. I lost count after my third apple martini and second shot of tequila and… I couldn’t remember what else.

  The girls threw me on the bed with a bounce, then set a place on the floor for Bobbi to sleep on. She had to stay the night because she was pretty wasted herself, and I believed her maternal instincts were taking over.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, but it came out “Ess you awight?” as she checked on me before I fell asleep. I nodded; she smiled and kissed me on the cheek before I turned to let my body slip into the comfort and ease of darkness.

  My head started buzzing. I cracked my eyes open, thinking my hangover had begun, so I moved to get up, get aspirin and some water. But then it buzzed again, under me. What the…? I dug under my pillow, wrapped my hands around my cell phone and picked it up to see I had a text. It was from Dane. Funny, I didn’t remember ever giving the guy my number, but then again, he was really good at finding out information. What the hell was he doing texting me at this time of the night… or was it morning?

  Are you alone?

  The words on the screen confused me. Why would I need to be alone for texting? I dimmed the light on my phone and then peeked over my shoulder. Sonja and Bobbi were engaged in an in-depth conversation most likely about me, but I really couldn’t tell. Oh well, what could I do? They seemed well enough distracted, so I turned back to the wall and returned Dane’s text.

  Alone enough, why, what do you want?

  Be nice, I come bearing gifts.

  Instead of receiving an immediate response, it took at least ten minutes before Dane texted again, and several pictures followed soon after. So
many pictures, in fact, my old, busted Metro phone started to slow down and freeze. I huffed in frustration and thought of smashing it on the wall, but a cooler head prevailed and I was patient.

  Over a half an hour had passed of me hiding my phone in the corner before I was finally able to see the pictures Dane had sent me. At first I was confused. I blamed it on the alcohol for slowing down my thinking, or maybe my left-side-dominant brain just couldn’t comprehend his artful flare. The pictures started with Dane in a suit, expensive as usual and gray. The suit fit him custom-perfect, as they usually did, with brown shoes, a white shirt unbuttoned at the top and a tie, but it was loose around his neck.

  The next series of pictures were him posing by a blank wall taking off various pieces of his suit. First went the jacket, then the shoes, next was the shirt and so on. I started to get impatient and a little annoyed, because I found myself wanting to see him naked.

  Get to the point already.

  Patience… Keep looking. It’s coming!

  I sighed and continued to wait as my two friends chattered on behind me. I caught a few words here and there, and without question I knew they were talking about me now. I didn’t know how they could manage such a serious conversation, or be sober enough to discuss their concerns about me—or anyone else, for that matter. Perhaps I was a sobering subject. Apparently there were concerns about my life being out of control and that I was being derailed from achieving the goals I set for myself.

  I stuck my tongue out at them like a spoiled, defiant child, even though they couldn’t see me when I did it. I went back to my phone and giving Dane my attention. He was a helpful distraction from all the judgment going on.

  My nipples started to harden as Dane finally stripped down to his boxers. About time he got down to what mattered. All the other shit he’d shown was teasing, and I got it but didn’t have the patience. Not today. Dane’s muscles were glistening with sweat and highlighted by the flash of his cell phone. His pectorals stood out like beacons of hope as my head swam to the shore from near drowning.