by Nichole Rose
"You were?"
He nods. "She thought it was hilarious and didn't tell me shit."
"I like her."
"The feeling is mutual, Paradise."
"Oh! Why Paradise? You said to ask you today."
He grins at me, running his hand up my back to plunge it into my hair. He uses his hold on me to tip my head back. My body heats, responding instantly to the dominance in that move. The way he moves me like I'm his to do with as he pleases is way hotter than I ever thought it would be.
"Because," he says, his gaze locked on mine. Desire peeps from the dark depths of his eyes, searing me. "You're as close to heaven on Earth as I'll ever get, Rowan."
Oh, wow.
"I want to kiss you again."
"You should do that then," I whisper, staring at his lips, remembering how they feel pressed against mine. How he tastes. The little sounds of satisfaction he makes.
"Can't," he growls, his hand tightening in my hair just enough to make it sting. "I'm not going to start off breaking promises to you, baby."
"Oh." I pout, unable to help myself. I love that he wants to keep his promises to me even though part of me really hates that I extracted said promise. Sometimes, I have really stupid ideas.
"Come find me after the final bell rings and I'll kiss you again."
"Okay," I agree, winning another panty-melting smile from him.
His hold on my hair loosens and then falls away. He sends butterflies into flight in my stomach when he immediately sets about trying to fix it for me, smoothing it out as best he can. My mind drifts to Principal Johnson and the conversation we didn't finish.
"Would you fire Johnson because of me?" I ask, more curious than anything.
His hands pause in my hair before slowly resuming his task. "I feel…possessive of you," he admits, like it's a question he's never had to ask himself before now. "Protective. It infuriates me that he treats you the way he does."
"Oh," I whisper.
"But if I fire him, it'll be because his behavior demanded it," he says, turning me to face him. "I would never put you in that position, Paradise. I know how much this job means to you and how much you mean to the kids here. If we decide that Johnson has to go, it'll be because it's what is best for the school. Not because of you. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Fuck, I love the way you say that." He drops his hands from my hair, adjusting his cock. His eyes are dark again, glazed with need. "I want to hear it while you're naked and on your knees, agreeing to let me do kinky shit to you."
"What kind of kinky stuff?"
"Nothing you won't enjoy, pretty Paradise," he promises, reaching out to touch my bottom lip. Before I can stop myself, I touch my tongue to his finger and then rake my teeth across the pad of it. He growls my name, sending a flood of desire through me.
I smile, pleased by his reaction. He's definitely as caught up in this as I am. That thought excites me way more than it should. We should take this slow and be careful…but I don't want to do that. I want this man to teach me every dirty thing he knows.
"The kids will be arriving soon," he says, regret heavy in his tone.
I glance at the clock hanging on the wall above the empty bookcases and realize that he's right. We've been in our own little world in here for almost an hour. "I should get to my classroom."
"Have lunch with me today?"
"I can't. I'm on lunchroom duty."
"Then I'll take lunchroom duty with you."
"Have you ever done lunchroom duty for a bunch of little kids?"
"No." He picks me up from my chair, placing me on my feet. "I taught high school."
"What subject?"
"History."
I smile at him. He is a nerd. I love it.
"What time is lunchroom duty?"
"11:20, but you don't have to come. It's complete chaos. There are tears involved."
"From the teachers or the students?"
"Depends on the day."
He shakes his head, smiling. "You aren't going to scare me off that easily, little owl. I'll see you at lunch. Behave today."
"I always behave."
He chuckles, nudging me toward the door. "Go, baby. Before I decide to hold you hostage in here for the rest of the day."
"Fine," I huff, adding a little sway to my hips as I head toward the door. "Bossy."
"I'm going to show you bossy, baby."
I snag my purse off the chair and loop it over my arm before turning to smirk at him. Okay, I really turn to ogle him one more time. He's watching me with his arms crossed and a grin on his face. My stomach flutters with nervous excitement.
"Bye, Sebastian."
"See you in a few hours, pretty Paradise."
I slip out of his temporary office, smiling ear to ear.
Lord, I have it so bad for him. I just really hope neither of us ends up hurt or worse. Because if anyone has the power to break my heart, I think he might.
Chapter Four
Sebastian
Spending the morning with Richard Johnson is a hell of a lot less enjoyable than feeling Rowan coming all over me. The man's voice grates on my fucking nerves. His haughty attitude pisses me off. And the way he stares down his nose at his teachers makes me want to grab him by the collar and shake him.
I don't give a shit if he is almost seventy. The man is an insufferable jackass.
Not even I can deny that Commodore runs like clockwork with him at the helm, though. We spend the morning going over everything from test results to instructional materials to maintenance issues in the school. The test results for the school are some of the highest in the county and the school is in excellent repair. Instructional materials are a little outdated since he's resistant to technology, but they're not bad enough to cause major concern.
What does concern me is the way every teacher we come across avoids him like he's got the plague and they're susceptible. The fact that he doesn't seem to notice their aversion also concerns me. He's a tyrant, exactly as I feared.
But I can't do a damn thing about it unless complaints are filed or he acts out. Being a dick isn't a fireable offense. We'd have the Union breathing down our necks if we tried it, and I do not want to piss off the Union my first year on the job here. I prefer to work with the Union, not against them.
"The gymnasium is our next stop," Johnson says, a certain smugness in his tone as I flip my notebook closed with an annoyed grumble. "We renovated it five years ago. I think you'll find it in impeccable repair."
"Actually, the gym is going to have to wait. I have something to do," I mutter, pulling out my phone to look at the time. It's almost time to meet Rowan. "We'll reconvene in your office at one."
"Lunch plans?" he asks.
"Meeting with some of the teachers," I say, arching a brow. "Trying to get a feel for their concerns and needs, address any irritants before they become issues."
His lips compress into a thin line, his expression turning sour. For someone who doesn't like Rowan's resistance to authority, he seems to be pretty damn resistant himself. This is his castle and I'm the interloper. At least that's what he thinks. Guess he didn't get the memo that I run the show now.
"I'm sure they'll have no complaints about the school or the leadership," I lie, pushing his buttons because he's testing what little patience I possess. "They're all very highly thought of by the board. I'm sure the feeling is mutual."
"Of course."
Dick.
"See you at one," I mutter and then head out, making my way out of the fifth-grade hall. Unlike the halls for the younger students, this one is neater, quieter. The artwork hanging on the walls is just as bright as that in the other halls though, and just as plentiful. It's obvious the teachers here care about the kids and take pride in their accomplishments.
I make it to the cafeteria as the bell rings, signaling the end of class for the first, second, and third graders and the return to class for the kindergartners. Hundreds of voices bounce off the
walls as all the kids rush around. The teachers try to keep them quiet, but it's impossible to keep hundreds of little kids silent. I hold the door open, allowing the first two classes to go inside.
Their teachers murmur a quick thank you to me, distracted by the kids or their own thoughts. If they realize who I am, they don't react. The kids bounce up and down in line or skip, eager for the freedom lunch presents. Other classes pour into the cafeteria from the doors on the opposite side, filling the large room with sound.
As soon as I see Rowan leading her class down the hall toward me, my dick starts to react. I have to will him down. I can't will the smile off my face though. She's not much taller than her kids are, but she is all woman. Too goddamn beautiful to be real.
A pretty blush stains her cheeks when she notices me standing at the doors.
"Hey," she murmurs, ducking her head.
"Hey," I return, holding the door open for her class.
"If you brought your lunch, go to the table, please," Rowan calls out as the class starts jostling to get in the doors. "Everyone else, please stand in line and be on your best behavior."
"Yes, Miss Lassiter," half of the class says at once.
A little girl with pigtails, glasses, and missing front teeth stops in front of me and tilts her head way back to look up at me. "Who are you?"
"This is Dr. Thorne, Jamie," Rowan says to the little girl. "He's the superintendent."
"Cool," a little boy with a Power Rangers lunch pail says, stopping beside her. "You're the big boss, like in the video games."
"I guess so," I say, chuckling. "Maybe less of a bad guy, though."
"My daddy says the big boss is always the bad guy," the little girl, Jamie, retorts, clearly not sold on me yet.
The little boy with her nods his agreement.
"Maybe just a little bad then," I whisper, putting my hand at my mouth like I'm telling them a secret. "But only when it's fun."
"Cool," the little boy whispers again.
"Jamie, Chris, go inside, please," Rowan says, shaking her head and smiling.
The kids do as instructed, tumbling through the door into the lunchroom, which is already in chaos. Half of the kids are running to get in line. The other half are shouting over the tables. Those in line are doing everything but standing up straight.
"I warned you," Rowan says, smirking at me so those dimples of hers pop out.
"Indeed you did." I hold the door open for her, grinning. It's cute she thinks I'm easily frightened off. It's going to take a hell of a lot more than two hundred little kids to send me running for the hills.
"Did you bring lunch or are you eating cafeteria fare?" she asks, looking up at me.
"Cafeteria." I hesitate, suddenly unsure. Maybe the food here is terrible. School food was awful when I was a kid. "Unless it's terrible."
She laughs at me. "It's not terrible. Promise."
I follow her around to where the teachers are lined up at the entrance to the kitchen on the opposite side of the room from the kids, waiting for their turn. The place smells like freshly baked bread and that weird green bean smell that permeates all school cafeterias.
"We usually sit in the middle of the room," Rowan says, pointing at the table in question. "We can glower at the kids better from there."
"You don't sit with the kids?"
"God no," one of the teachers ahead of her says with a laugh. "They are savages at lunch."
"Lana, this is Dr. Thorne," Rowan says, introducing me to the young woman. She's maybe twenty-two or twenty-three, with big green eyes and a riot of blonde curls. "Dr. Thorne, Lana teaches music to the kids."
Her eyes widen when Rowan introduces us. She holds her hand out for me to shake. "Um, hi, Dr. Thorne," she says. "They aren't really savages. We just like to let them have their own little thing at lunch without us breathing down their necks."
"No, they're definitely savages," Rowan says, her expression kind, as if she senses Lana's embarrassment and is trying to smooth it over. "They will judge your lunch choices hard enough to make you cry. I still hide to eat my pudding cups."
Lana giggles. The guy ahead of her laughs too.
"Apparently, pudding is a kid food, not an adult food," Rowan explains, mimicking an aggrieved third grader, with mock horror in her eyes and her hands on her hips.
"Pudding is fu…freaking delicious," I mutter, smiling at her antics. She's so fucking cute.
"I know! That's what I said!"
Everyone in line laughs and I want to kiss her. Except I can't. We're supposed to be discreet, keep our budding relationship under wraps around the kids. I guess it's a good thing I'm only at the school for the rest of the week, because I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to keep my hands off her when she's so goddamn adorable.
I also don't know how I'm supposed to spend the rest of the school year not seeing her halfway through the day every day. Already, spending lunch with her is becoming my favorite thing to do.
A group of students throwing a banana around catches everyone's attention. Lana and the guy in front of her duck out of line to go handle the situation. Rowan steps closer to me with those dimples on full display. I swear, they're deadly.
I shove my hands into my pockets in a last-ditch effort to keep them off her.
"I've been thinking," she says.
"About?"
"Principal Johnson."
I growl, suddenly…jealous. Jesus. I've never been that before, but I don't want her thinking about any man who isn't me. Not even one she clearly despises.
"If you really want to know what people think about him, I think you should make it anonymous," she says, oblivious to my internal struggle. "I think the teachers might be more willing to share their thoughts if they didn't have to worry about retaliation."
"Retaliation is illegal."
"I know that, but it doesn't make people worry less. Especially if they tell you bad things about him and then you don't fire him," she says, shuffling forward when the line moves. "No one wants to risk their jobs, but if you make speaking anonymously an option, maybe they'd be willing to talk."
I mull it over. The suggestion has merit.
When we make it to the front of the line, Rowan hands me a tray. "Avoid the taco soup," she suggests. "And the tacos. Oh, and the green beans and spinach. Everything else is good."
I glance over our options. Unlike the kids, teachers get to eat whatever the hell they want. There are burgers and fries, pizza, tacos, taco soup, salad, brownies, cake, and then the daily menu selection. Which is, apparently, pigs in a blanket, fries, green beans, and mixed fruit.
Rowan grabs a slice of pizza, a small salad, and an orange. It doesn't look like enough food to me, so I load my tray up with burgers and fries, a couple more slices of pizza, and two brownies.
"There is no way you're going to eat all of that," she says, laughing at me.
"You're going to help me, Paradise," I murmur.
Her eyes widen, her gaze shooting to the teachers behind me.
Shit. I forgot we aren't alone here. Luckily, the teachers behind us are caught up in their own conversation, not paying us any attention.
Rowan is quiet as we make our way to the counter to pay for our lunch.
Like the students, teachers are able to put money on an account to cover the cost of their food. I hand over my badge before she can get hers free from around her neck, having them charge my account for our food.
"I was going to get that," she says.
"Next time," I lie, heading off that argument. She's not paying for anything. I know what teachers make. It's a hell of a lot less than they deserve. And my family has more money than we know what to do with. Killian and I have no interest in building the family fortunes. That ship sailed long before our mom died.
"All of the kids here get free lunch," Rowan explains as we head toward the table. "Most of them still bring their lunches, but it's one less thing for the parents to worry about. Someone made an anonymous donation to mak
e it possible."
I hum instead of telling her it was me. Kids shouldn't have to worry about whether they're going to be able to eat or not. I refuse to let the kids in my schools go hungry over unpaid school debt, or let parents worry if they can afford to feed their kids. That's my little secret though, done because it was the right thing to do, not to receive credit for it.
By the time we make it to the table, word seems to have spread that I'm eating lunch with them today. Aside from Rowan and Lana, everyone else appears slightly uncomfortable with my presence. I'm the interloper again, the big boss. Unlike with Johnson, I actually care what these people think of me. I want them to know they can trust me…that I'm here to help them however they need it.
"I hope you don't mind me joining you unannounced," I murmur to everyone after Rowan does a round of introductions. "I've been running since the year started, so I haven't gotten to meet many of the teachers. I wanted to remedy that today. Rowan, uh, Miss Lassiter was kind enough to agree to introduce me."
If anyone notices my slip, no one comments on it.
"It's no problem," Lana says, her voice soft. She seems genuine, open.
Everyone else nods along politely, more reserved.
"Rowan, how is Lisa doing?" One of the first-grade teachers, Lydia McCormick, asks.
"She's good. Yesterday was tough, but Colton is going to be fine. Baby Gia is adorable," Rowan gushes. "Gabe talks about her nonstop. It's so cute."
"Aww," Lana says.
"He's a good kid," Rick Murphy says, pushing his glasses up his nose. He glances at Rowan, interest in his gaze. And then he looks at me, curious.
I narrow my eyes at him, silently telling him to keep his fucking eyes off her.
He swallows hard before quickly glancing back down at his burger.
Fuck. Why do we need male teachers?
"Are the rumors about Cadence and Colton Walker true?" Lana asks, looking at Rowan.
Conversation grinds to a halt, everyone sneaking glances in my direction, clearly uneasy to be talking about another teacher in front of me. I should have seen that one coming.
