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

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Teacher's Pet - The Complete Series: Books 1-4 Page 18

by Avery Phillips

“Simon, dear. Are you in love with him?”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how this is any of your business.”

  “Well, see now, that’s where you’re wrong, Lynora. You see, my children are my business. In fact, you could say as busy as I am, they are my main business. The only one that matters, and once, if ever, you have children of your own, you’ll understand exactly what I’m saying. And as a mother, your God-given right is to protect and take care of your children at any cost. Regardless of how old they are, regardless of if they want you to or not. It’s your job!”

  “But he’s an adult, Caroline. He’s not a child anymore, I assure I you.”

  “True. But what is also true is he is and always will be my child, and my only male child at that. And old ways or not, that still means something in this family. So that being said, I will consider this fling he had with you a little life lesson and a big mistake. He is a man, and being a man, he has a weakness for women. So now that I’ve spoken with you, Lynora, I know without a shadow of a doubt my son will come to the same conclusion as I just have. He’s a smart boy, but with matters of the heart he’s rather… challenged, if you will. He always has been.”

  “I wouldn’t go as far as to say I was I was a mistake—”

  “Now, now.” Caroline crossed her lips with her finger. “Shh, shh, shh, child. We don’t have to discuss this any longer. You will stay away from Simon from now on and we won’t have any issues going forward. Just like his father, that one; always waddling around in the mud, squealing and grunting like a runt pig. I guess I can’t blame him, now can I? The flaw in that boy seems genetic.” She sighed.

  Caroline picked up her things—a white crocodile shoulder bag and the scarf she had over the bench—and dusted herself off like she was filthy. She extended her hand again. “It was nice to meet you, Lynora. You’re a nice girl, I’m sure. This wasn’t a personal thing, but Simon has dated much better in the past and I’d rather he continue to make strides going forward rather than taking steps back into the gutter. The immediate situation is we are having a party at my home soon, and bringing a date is not optional. You see, I had a fear he might bring you before we had a chance to meet, and that is something I just wouldn’t stand for. So now I’ll make sure he comes with someone I already had in mind. He’s a bit stubborn about it, but mother knows best.”

  She turned to walk away. In the distance I saw a black SUV with a driver waiting by the door to usher her in. “Oh, and by the way. I’d like to thank you for not making this too difficult. The last time I had to ‘intervene’ in one of Simon’s trysts, I was forced to pay the girl off. It was a small sum, mind you; well worth it in every way to have that awful girl disappear. It takes a lot to nab a Foster man, and sometimes it costs more just to keep him around. I’m sure in a way I spared you some of that heartache. Take care.”

  As I watched her step into her car assisted by the driver, her hand held by his to keep her balance, I noticed she didn’t look back. Not once to see if I was okay, if I had a smile on my face or if it crumpled into a frown. The lady really didn’t give a fuck about my feelings. And why should she? She didn’t know me. As far as she was concerned, I was just some floozy gold digger trying to get next to her son for dick or money.

  I felt horrible inside. I was hung over, hadn’t had breakfast. I had to deal with Simon’s mother tearing me down first thing in the morning. I could see where he got it from: the ability to sever his emotions, the way he expected me to bow to his will, wrap around his ankles and kiss him on his feet. I’d show her who was worthy if I ever got the chance, and I’d be damned if I didn't show him too.

  Lesson # 8

  Not all news gets to be good

  “Maybe the next time someone needs to send you a message they can use modern means, like email or text.” -Simon Foster

  Lynn

  It was last week before graduation. I found myself spending my free period helping Simon catch up with all the grading he had to do before the end of the week while he interviewed for a new assistant to replace me for the next year. I was completely fed up with this job, to the point to where I could wrap it up in a neat little bow and pass it off to someone else in a heartbeat.

  I was also completely done with the Fosters. Simon, his mother, Dane, who claimed he was but couldn’t possibly be Simon’s brother. The whole situation was giving me migraines. Something I’d never had before.

  Giving up my job didn't bother me as much as I thought. Simon and I had been broken up for a while, and he needed someone to help him—as long as that someone wasn’t me. I was soon to graduate. So the fact that there were parades of little sluts lining up out the door after classes didn't bother me one bit, I needed to keep telling myself.

  “Did you hear me?” Simon was in my ear.

  “What? No, I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

  “I need you to get that stack of papers graded, and then the exams looked at so they can go back to the students for final study guides.”

  I turned around and scowled at him. He wasn’t even looking at me when he barked those orders, not that I was surprised. He’d been avoiding eye contact for weeks.

  Simon was at the podium rustling through some papers. Papers he didn’t need, because I organized them, so I knew. They were notes from today’s lectures, and today's lectures were over. The rest of the day was independent study and review for those that might need it.

  I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on him as he walked. He was wearing lightly pressed khakis and a nice white shirt that clung to his chest like my body yearned to. I know, but I’m still human. I have irrational wants and ridiculous needs; if I come to regret them, so be it. His hair was done nicely today, freshly cut, a little swirly. I could smell his cologne, and its smooth, mellow spice as it lingered.

  Simon turned and walked toward me like he could read my mind; he got behind my chair, looked over my shoulder and bent down toward my ear. I tensed when I felt the warmth of his breath brushing against my neck. He spoke but I couldn't make out what he said. For a moment memories came rushing back and I found myself wanting him to bend toward me and gently press his lips on my collarbone.

  Then he would turn me around and order me to take off his pants. I would resist at first, act like I was appalled, and gather the courage to tell him no, to not make me look too eager. But eventually I’d give in. Get my fingers on to his zipper, pull it down with my teeth and slide his pants down along with his boxers. His cock would spring out in front of me…

  “Are you okay?” Simon’s hand was on my shoulder.

  Shit. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. There was drool at the corners from thinking of wrapping my lips around his cock. My tongue started to tingle and my nipples had hardened. I pulled at my shirt so they wouldn’t show. “Yes.” I nodded. “I’m fine. Why?”

  “Well, I told you to grade those papers a while ago, Ms. Minnelli and you’ve been sitting here staring at them for at least twenty-minutes. How do you expect us to get out of here at a decent hour if you keep daydreaming on the job?”

  Hearing Simon’s voice and the tone that he took snapped me out of my fantasy in a hurry. But it was his voice in my ear that had started it all in the first place. Irony never failed to amuse me. “Well, it’s not like you can leave anytime soon, Mr. Foster. Your next applicant could be here at any moment, and you won’t get her to sleep with you, much less be your assistant, if she sees how rude you are to the last one.”

  I turned my chair around to look at Simon’s face. He was red with fury and maybe a little embarrassed. I wanted to hit him where it hurt, and it was the only thing I knew to say that would do it—trivializing what we had as some sort of fetish.

  Simon straightened his face, looked up and walked away, glancing back at me with his eyes narrowed. Someone had come in and stood at the top of the steps leading down to the lecture floor. Simon straightened his tie and poof, he was his stoic self again. I didn’t look up; I didn’t need to. I k
new it was most likely an applicant. I could hear the sound of her heels click-clacking on the floor.

  I turned and finally looked, catching a glimpse of her legs as they walked toward Simon’s desk. The girl had a body women would kill for. She wasn't skinny by any means, was fairly well endowed in her hips and her ass, but her stomach… well, that was nearly flat. She wore a red summer dress, short and curve-hugging, with long raven tresses down to the middle of her back.

  I could hear the two of them talking on my left, and the longer the conversation went the more my stomach churned. It didn’t matter the topic of discussion, because once the girl started to giggle, that was it. I felt myself getting irritated. I snatched my MP3 player from my bag, unraveled my earphones and shoved them in my ears. I wondered how this one would do with Caroline. If she thought I was bad, wait until she got a load of her. She’d have to pay her off a million dollars.

  Time seemed to fly by once I drowned the two of them out. I graded the tests, finished the training book I’d made for my replacement and got things to prepare for my exit. Feeling accomplished, I stood up and looked around, realizing that other applicants were waiting and sitting in seats.

  “Ms. Minnelli before you go…” Simon and the brunette were still talking to each other. She was sitting on a table swinging her feet like a two-year-old, but the tone seemed to have changed in the discussion. For one, she was no longer giggling. “I’d like you to—”

  “Look, I really don’t have time,” I said, “She’s obviously a good candidate or you wouldn’t have talked to her for this long. So just hire the girl already. It’s not like I have any real say in the matter, and I need to get to home, so—”

  “Point taken, but if you would just hold on for a minute. This nice young lady here was just telling me she had a message for you. Maybe the next time someone needs to send you a message they can use modern means, like email or text. Something that wouldn’t be such an interruption for you while you’re performing assistant duties,” Simon said through his teeth. Something was wrong.

  I took a good look at the girl. I thought I’d seen her around campus before, but I wasn’t sure. “So what’s the message? I’m in a hurry.”

  “So you’re Lynn, huh?” she asked, looking me up and down.

  “I am. And who might you be?”

  “Well, I have no idea what he sees in you, but he told me I would find you here and to tell you that he wants you to meet him at that Abuelo’s restaurant downtown, at seven o’clock sharp.” She said it with her hands on her hips, popping her gum like a streetwalker.

  “Who are you talking about? Who wants to meet me?”

  “Well, Dane, of course. And I would consider yourself lucky if I were you. He paid for the message to be delivered but he wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

  I couldn’t believe this. “Get out,” I shouted. The applicants looked up from whatever they were doing—listening to music, having conversations. Everything stopped, and all eyes were directed at me. The girl got out of Dodge pretty quickly. Not saying another word, but with a smile on her face. Damn it, Dane totally did this on purpose.

  “Get out.”

  I heard Simone’s voice from my right, barely above a whisper, but I turned anyway so I could hear him more clearly. “I said get out of my class Lynn, now!” This time he shouted loud enough for all to hear. I didn’t realize he was talking to me until I heard him say my name. “Get out!” I grabbed my stuff and quickly left.

  ***

  I walked down the hall back to my room. I had a lot on my mind that I had to sort out, and I really didn’t feel like being bothered. The conundrum with Simon and I, for one, and the trouble Dane had caused just to get his rocks off had me in the doghouse yet again.

  Any other girl would love to have been caught between two men, especially ones as gorgeous as the two of them. Their deep crescent-shaped dimples, their strong, chiseled bodies, the way they oozed with charm without any effort. I guess I should’ve felt flattered, but I wasn’t.

  At five thirty I found myself pacing back and forth, wearing a hole in my dorm room floor. Sonja wasn’t there, thank goodness. I didn’t feel like laying any problems that heavy on her shoulders. She had enough to carry for the sake of a friend, so I needed to handle this one alone—figure things out for myself and get them right without anyone’s influence. I knew that meeting Dane was the wrong thing to do, so I didn’t need confirmation. I had to do what I had to in order to live with myself, because at the end of the day it was me, and me only.

  I really wanted to see if I could get this whole thing settled. Be strong in Dane’s presence. In the past I had been weak. I needed to step it up, accept responsibility for my actions; let him know we either weren’t an option or go full steam ahead. Either way, I had a plan to get what I wanted.

  Lesson # 9

  A moment of heat can last a lifetime

  “I knew who it was by the way that she stood. Her height, the way she moved and the way she held herself.” -Simon Foster

  Simon

  I wasn’t sure where my anger came from. I had every intention of making amends with Lynn (maybe even inviting her to escort me to the party), but the moment I saw her my emotions got the best of me. How fucking pathetic is that? I’d always prided myself on being a self-controlled person, but here I was acting like an immature little girl, bitter and ruled by my emotions.

  If she would just stop looking at me like I did something to her. Like it was me that split us up, or like I was the reason she fucked someone else. It was infuriating to see how this scenario unfolded. How a woman I once thought could get close to my heart could fall from grace like an angel banished from heaven.

  The chemistry between us was a blessing and a curse. Whenever we were together, whether there was anger involved or not, I felt a strong urge to touch her, caress her, feel our skin come together and create the brilliant sparks I’d only known to happen with her. And now it was lost… we were lost, and so was I.

  I didn’t want a new assistant, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I didn’t want to go through tiring scores of interviews or fake “happy to be here” smiles of potential hires, with their overdone makeup, tight jeans and body-clinging dresses to impress me.

  That shit turned my stomach. The level of attention that these girls needed today and the feeling of entitlement was mind-blowing. I knew it needed to be done. Lynn was on her way out in more ways than one, soon to be out of my life forever. So it was probably a good thing. That way it would be a clean and definitive split, not this awkward force of wills to see which one of us broke before ripping each other’s clothes off and fucking.

  To think what I had contemplated: asking her to the party, burying the hatchet by escorting her to the house to meet my family. My mother would’ve been furious, without question. She’d insisted that I bring a date, but what she really meant by that was for me to bring Katelyn. The only girl that she’d ever approved of.

  Mother hated surprises. She wasn’t too fond of me dating women from families outside her preapproved social circles. She was controlling. I knew that; it was a trait that I’d inherited. They didn’t call her the Dragon Lady for nothing.

  I was working on my bike in the garage. Just tinkering around, something I liked to do when I had a lot on my mind and it was too wet outside for me to go riding. The damage from the accident wasn’t too bad. There were several deep scratches in the paint, exposing chrome, quarter-sized dents on the tank and the exhaust, but nothing I couldn’t fix or send to the shop for minor repairs.

  It was an uncomfortable night, nearly sweltering hot, so I opened the garage door to take advantage of the breeze. I had on my tattered jeans, no shoes and no shirt, trying to keep cool, when a car pulled into my driveway. I put my wrench down and wiped the oil off my hands with a dirty old rag from my workbench. I shielded my eyes from the headlights. They were bright and shining directly at me.

  The car stopped and idled for a moment before the driv
er finally cut off the ignition. When the headlights dimmed, I could see the car was a dark blue, or maybe it was purple, Audi convertible Spyder, with someone… a woman behind the wheel, taking her time getting out.

  The woman opened the car door and stepped out, one long, shapely leg at a time. “Shit!” I said under my breath. I knew who it was by the way that she stood. Her height, the way she moved and the way she held herself: beauty and grace… trouble.

  “How are you, handsome? Long time no see.”

  It was fucking Katelyn Turner. No doubt she was here because of my mother.

  Not only was Katelyn my ex, she was the ex in my life that I was seconds away from marrying after college. I opened my mouth and shut it. Not wanting to say what was exactly on my mind. It was provocative and inappropriate for the time. I took Katelyn in from her head to her feet. She was wearing a snow-white pea coat and a very short skirt, but all I could see were legs leading from it to fire-red heels.

  I met Katelyn while we were both attending Berkeley. Before I graduated and later taught there as a professor. She was impressive from the day that I met her. A tall, determined, business-minded law student who happened to be drop-dead gorgeous.

  She was the total package—on paper, at least—so she fit right in with my family. My parents loved her to death, my sister thought she was great and her exuberance for sex was off the fucking charts. We did it every chance that we got. But for me, the lust never turned into love, and the love she had for me was never enough.

  So I realized marrying Katelyn would’ve been a mistake. Of course there was pressure from our families, but in the end cooler heads had prevailed. But to look at her now made me want to rethink that decision. All I could do was stare as she walked toward me now. Slow and like a model, graceful and poised. I felt my cock stiffen in my jeans.

  Katelyn was five foot eleven, but with the heels we stood the same height. Something about that got me off. Her hair was short, in a pixie-style cut, the left side long, the other side clipped. The left ends swooped under her chin. She was a dark brunette; her hair was almost black. She had sultry brown eyes and smooth, flawless skin; a lighter shade of olive was her color.

 

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