by Katie Ashley
“Let me guess. She got pregnant and trapped him?”
“Pretty much. Not that my dad didn’t want more kids. He just wanted them with a woman who wanted to be a mother. Wendy didn’t.”
“How long did she stick around?”
“Until my dad got his official MD diagnosis and was no longer able to compete.”
“How old was Ansel?”
“Just three.”
“Another one of your bad ‘threes’, huh?”
I sucked in a breath at the fact he had remembered that. William read my surprise. “No. I didn’t forget. It also hasn’t escaped me what today is.”
“August 3rd,” I murmured.
“Yes, it is.” William turned back to look at one of the pictures of me sitting on a horse with a toddler Ansel on my lap. “You’ve pretty much been a mother to him, haven’t you?”
“Yes. My grandmother helped out a lot.”
William leaned back against the stall door. “That’s interesting.”
“How do you mean?”
“One would think because of the life you’ve led—and continue to lead—that you would want to give up the control for a while and be a submissive. Yet you continue to remain controlled through domination.”
“That’s because I’m not a true dominant. Being a Domme was a job.”
“Deep down, you know you’re a true Domme.”
“Only with you. I’ve never felt anything with it but with you.” William reached for me, but I stepped back. “I can’t—we can’t.”
“We could yesterday.”
“Yesterday you weren’t my boss. Everything has changed.”
“Nothing has changed about the way I feel about you,” William countered.
I yanked my fingers through my hair in frustration. “There are some lines you cannot cross, and this is one of them. If someone found out, it could ruin our reputations. The one thing I had drilled into my head in my teaching classes was how important your reputation was when it came to a job. I’ve worked too hard for this to lose it.”
“What do we do now? Just pretend like nothing ever happened between us?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You’re going to have to.” When William started to protest, I shook my head. “Deep down, you know that we can’t pursue this. You’ve sat through enough professional education classes to know how dangerous it would be.”
“Yes, I do. But I came out here hoping that no matter how I felt about it, you would want to give it a chance—give us a chance.”
“There is no us.”
William flinched. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”
“A weekend hook-up hardly constitutes something meaningful.”
With a shake of his head, William countered, “Both you and I know it was more than just a hook-up.”
I shrugged. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe even if you weren’t my boss, we would have discovered after a few weeks that what we had was just physical.”
An expression of disgust mingled with sadness came over William’s face. “If that’s what you want to believe, I can’t change your mind.” He started for the barn door before pausing. “You don’t have to worry about me saying anything else or things being weird at work. You deserve the best first year of teaching, and I won’t do anything to interfere with that.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“Good-bye, Sophie.”
“Good-bye, William.”
As I watched him walk out the barn door, pain shot through my chest, crippling my lungs. I fought hard to breathe. Although there was no other choice but to tell him good-bye, it sure hurt like hell.
The next few weeks of school rolled along. Each day I was in the classroom, the more it began to feel like second nature. As I stood before each group of students, I couldn’t help feeling like I had truly found what I was supposed to be doing in life. Being a Domme had certainly given me the training I needed to stand before a class with confidence and assurance, and it didn’t take but a few days for the students to realize that regardless of me being young and new, I would not be shaken.
Of course, there was one person who rattled my confidence. And that was William. It took a will of iron to maintain my control whenever I saw him. After the day he came to my house, we had diligently worked to maintain our distance from each other. Even though he had promised things wouldn’t be weird, they were.
For me, there was something about seeing him outside the club that still jarred me. It wasn’t just about him being a constant reminder of my former life—the one I wanted to leave behind. More than anything, I felt a physical reaction each and every time I saw him. I remembered in aching detail what it felt like to have his lips and tongue on my breasts and between my legs, and the way he filled and stretched me with his cock. It’s not so easy to forget the man who gave you the best sex you’ve ever had, least of all the one who somehow managed to chisel away the finely constructed wall you had built around you.
So far, we were giving the best professional performance of our lives. If I ran into him in the office or in the hallways, he always gave me a polite smile and hello—the same he did to anyone else. But I could see past his carefully constructed façade. He was struggling just as much as I was.
A gentle stream of rain drizzled against the window beside my desk. The only sound echoing through the room was the scratch of my pen against paper as I worked my way through grading a mound of narrative essays. The last class had left around ten minutes ago, and now I found myself in my mid-morning planning period.
The beep of the intercom over my head caused me to jump in my chair. “Ms. Jameson?” a female voice questioned.
“Yes?” I called, as I rubbed my chest to still my racing heart.
“Dr. Foster needs to see you in his office immediately.”
A jolt of anxiety rippled through me. “I’ll be right there.”
The click and clack of my heels echoed along the hallway tile. As I pushed through the glass door of the office, I forced myself to take a few calming breaths. Absentmindedly, I spoke to a few people on my way to the back. When I got to William’s secretary’s door, I rapped lightly.
Mrs. Cleary glanced up from whatever she was doing on the computer. I must not have been hiding my anxiousness because she gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s all right, honey. It’s not about your teaching. It’s your brother.”
My moment of relief was fleeting as anxiety and worry once again pricked itself over my body. I automatically thought the worst and blurted, “Did he get hurt?”
With a sheepish grin, she said, “Actually, he’s in trouble.”
The panic pulsing through my body slowly evaporated to be replaced by anger. “I see.” I motioned my hand down the hall. “May I go in?”
Mrs. Cleary nodded. When I started down the hall, her words momentarily froze me. “Go easy on him, honey. He’s dealing with a lot…just like you.”
The reference to my dad caused my anger to momentarily dissipate. The familiar ache of sadness filled my chest, causing me to fight for breath. Unable to look at Mrs. Cleary, I merely nodded in acknowledgement at her comment. Once I had regulated my breathing, I made my way to William’s office.
When I opened the door, my gaze spun around the room. William sat behind his desk with Ansel in a chair in front of him. At the sight of me, William stood up. “Ms. Jameson, thank you for coming. Please have a seat.” He motioned for me to take the chair next to Ansel.
Ignoring him, I marched across the room to stand in front of Ansel. “What have you done?” I demanded.
He snorted. “Way to have my back, sis.”
“Excuse me for jumping to conclusions, but in my experience, one doesn’t go to the principal’s office for good news.” When he opened his mouth to protest, I held up my hand. “Don’t try arguing that you could’ve been here about a scholarship. Mrs. Cleary told me you were in trouble.”
&n
bsp; Ansel then turned to look at me. The left side of his face was a mess of cuts and scratches. I gasped. “What happened?”
William cleared his throat. “Have a seat—”
“Don’t tell me what to do. You need to tell me exactly how my brother got hurt!” I snapped.
William’s dark eyes flashed with both surprise and something darker—something that momentarily made me forget my anger and my concern for Ansel. I had somehow forgotten my position in the dynamic I now found myself in, and instead, I was playing the Domme and barking out orders.
“Jesus, Soph, calm down,” Ansel said.
I swallowed hard. “I’m so very sorry, Dr. Foster. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” I said meekly.
This time a flicker of amusement appeared in William’s eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly like he was fighting not to smile. He knew how hard it was for me to apologize and to suppress my ball-busting nature.
“This one time it is understandable, Ms.Jameson. However, in the future, I do hope you will remember that I am your boss and should be afforded the correct respect.”
“Yes, sir.” I then dutifully took the seat he had previously offered. Oh. The. Irony. William had thought being called sir at the café would be a one-time thing, yet here we were.
“Your brother was involved in an altercation between class changes.”
“An altercation? I’m assuming that’s a nice way of saying he got into a fight?”
“Yes. It is.”
I turned to Ansel. “Three weeks into the school year and you’re already in trouble. How do you think this is going to look on your record? You think scholarship committees want to give money to a hothead?”
Ansel refused to respond or look at me. Instead, he gripped the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Since your brother was the first one to throw a punch, we have no choice but to suspend him.”
“Suspend him?” I gasped at the same time Ansel growled, “Suspend me?”
William nodded. “It’s the school policy to suspend the student from school who started the fight while giving the others in-school suspension.”
Popping out of his chair, Ansel protested, “But you don’t know what he said.”
“Sit down,” I ordered.
“But—”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter what he said. You shouldn’t have hit him.”
“He was saying shit about you, Soph.”
I rolled my eyes. “We talked about this. I told you some kids weren’t going to like me and would trash-talk me. And no matter what you heard, you had to just ignore it.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then just what was it like?”
Ansel glanced from me to William. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Ansel?” I prompted.
“Fine. He was talking about how he jerks off to you every night. Like in detail. He has these pictures of you that he’s taken in class. Not just normal pictures, but like pictures of your ass when you’re bent over and or when you leaned in to answer another student’s question and he could see down your shirt.” Ansel smacked his hands on the chair’s arms. “He was flashing around a picture of your tits!”
A strangled cry erupted from my lips at his outburst. Fiery mortification seared along my skin, and I quickly dropped my gaze from Ansel down to my lap. I couldn’t bear to look at him, least of all William. The embarrassment was quickly replaced by a feeling of violation. I’d been warned with my age and my looks that I would have students, male and female, who might crush on me. Because of that factor, I had been extremely careful when selecting my wardrobe to teach in.
William broke the painfully awkward silence in the room. “I’m very sorry, Ms. Jameson. I know this has to be very upsetting.”
“Yes, it is,” I whispered.
At the feel of a hand on my shoulder, I slowly lifted my chin to see Ansel staring down at me. “Now do you understand why I had to do it?”
I reached up to cup my sweet, yet misguided brother’s cheek—the one that wasn’t marred. “While I’m never going to condone you fighting, I do appreciate the fact you were protecting my honor.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But I want you to promise me that regardless of what is said…or shown about me, you won’t get yourself in trouble by fighting.”
Ansel’s jaw clenched in frustration, but finally, he nodded his head. “Okay, whatever.”
“Good.” I then looked to William.
Leaning forward in his chair, he said, “In light of this information, I feel it is only fair to reconsider Ansel’s punishment.”
“So I’m not suspended?” Ansel questioned.
“Not from school. But you will serve a week’s worth of in-school suspension.”
When Ansel started to protest, I jerked the sleeve of his shirt to silence him. “I think that sounds very fair.” Giving Ansel a pointed look, I said, “Thank Dr. Foster for his consideration and kindness.”
The expression Ansel wore said he would rather eat some of the horseshit he had to muck from the stables. But he plastered a smile on his face and said, “Thank you, Dr. Foster. I appreciate you hearing me out and understanding why I did what I did.”
“You’re welcome,” William replied. He picked up one of the notepads on his desk and scribbled something. When he was finished, he ripped the paper off the pad and rose out of his chair. After he came around the side of the desk, he held the piece of paper out to Ansel. “You can take this back to class and then get your things to report to ISS.”
Ansel took the paper without argument. He bent down to give me a quick hug before William escorted him to the door.
After the door closed behind him, I rose out of my chair. “I need you to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly.”
William’s brows rose in question. “Okay.”
“Did you have an ulterior motive in reducing Ansel’s punishment?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, William asked, “You mean in regards to you?”
“Yes.”
“Sexual harassment will not be tolerated toward anyone. Students or staff. And in this case, I want to set a precedent to where all students know that sexual harassment of a teacher will not be tolerated. Teaching is hard enough, and no one should have to feel violated in his or her classroom.” His eyes bore into mine. “Especially you.”
“Why me out of all the other teachers?”
Instead of answering me, William reached behind him. The clicking sound of the lock echoed through the room, causing my heartbeat to break into a mad dash.
“We can’t ignore this anymore.”
“Ignore what?” I flippantly asked.
William growled low in his chest, the deep sound causing my panties to dampen. “Don’t play coy with me, dammit. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I huffed out an exasperated breath. “Which is why I’m wondering why you’re even bringing it up. We’ve already been over this, William. Have you already forgotten how you promised this wouldn’t be weird for us?”
“I was a fucking fool to promise that. The last three weeks have been torture and not in a good way. And don’t try to say that it’s all just me because I can see the strain in you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He lowered his voice, yet his tone was still rough and filled with heat. “Just like a domme knows how to read a sub, a sub can read their mistress. When she’s happy or sad…when she’s fighting her emotions.” William pulled me to him, molding me against his body. His warmth burned through the fabric of my dress to singe my skin.
“Shouldn’t you ask to touch me?” I probed.
“I’m tired of this shit. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” His hand slid down my spine to rest at the curve of my buttocks. As my breasts rubbed against his chest, my nipples hardened at the friction, the hard points jutting out and beco
ming painful.
William’s breath scorched against the sensitive skin of my earlobe. “There is a deep connection between us.”
“Once again, we had one weekend together with some amazing sex. I’d hardly call that anything more than a physical connection,” I argued.
“It was more than physical, and you know it.”
Reaching between us, I firmly gripped his hardening cock through his slacks, causing him to moan and thrust his hips forward. “Right now all I feel is the physical.”
“Because that’s what being this close to you does to me. When I see you in the hallway, I want to kneel at your feet. I want to take you into the nearest room where I can worship every inch of your body. When I lie in bed at night, I can still taste you on my tongue. And when I’m stroking my cock, it is your hands and tongue I want on it instead.”
His words. His closeness. His emotion. They all overwhelmed me. It felt as if the ground shifted beneath my feet, and the room began to spin.
“Please, Sophie.”
Dammit to hell did I want him, especially when he begged. In that moment, it didn’t matter that we were in his office, or that his secretary was in the next room. If I was honest with myself, that fact stoked the flames of lust burning within me.
And what happened next was instinctual. Unexpected, but…oh, so right. I needed this. He needed this. Placing my hands on my chest, I shoved William back. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, I grabbed his tie and began leading him behind his desk, pulling him with me like he was on a leash. “Is that what you really want to call me?”
“No.”
I shoved him down in his chair. “Say it.”
“Please…Mistress.”
Placing my hands on his chest, I shoved William back. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, I grabbed his tie and began leading him behind his desk, pulling him with me like he was on a leash. “Is that what you really want to call me?”
“No.”
I shoved him down in his chair. “Say it.”
“Please…Mistress.”
My hands jerked his tie loose and yanked it from his shirt. “Put your hands behind your back,” I commanded.
