He snaps the box closed a moment later and stuffs it back into his pocket.

  “It’s fucking crazy to be at this point already. I may have known Charlotte as my patient for six months, but we’ve only been seeing each other romantically for a few weeks. I honestly can’t see a future without her in it.”

  “That’s great, man.” I slap his back. “I’m happy for you.”

  He glances over, doubt lining his face. “You don’t think I’m moving too fast?”

  “For a lot of people, I’d say yes. Young people these days mistake lust for love all the time. But I believe you’ve lived long enough to know the difference. You’ve gotten to know the person Charlotte is through your time together as her doctor. And she you. If you feel ready for this next step, I say take it.”

  He blows out a breath and rakes his hands through his hair. As he contemplates my advice, I think about my own situation with Luna.

  What I feel for her is definitely lust, but something tells me there’s more. When I saw Aaron pressing himself against her Friday night, I didn’t want to beat him to a bloody pulp because she was a random girl being attacked. It wasn’t even that she was my student. It was her. From the moment she walked in my class, something inside me whispered mine.

  We were lucky it was Aleah who caught us in my classroom. Had it been any other student or a teacher, our lives right now would be in chaos. But even so, I find it really hard to care. At least on my part. I wouldn’t want Luna to be subjected to the repercussions should anyone find out about us. But myself? I want her more than I fear what would happen to my career.

  And that thought freaks me the fuck out.

  Loud clapping and cheerful yells pull me from my thoughts, and I turn and face the room just as Bryan does the same. Penelope’s crowd of people is congratulating a newcomer, clapping hands with him and slapping him on the back. I’ve never seen the guy in Whiskey’s before, which is surprising since the clientele here pretty much stays the same.

  Penelope and the guy break away from the crowd and head this way. The open space beside me is filled a moment later when Penelope steps up to the bar.

  “Hey, Reed!” she calls. “Can I get a Johnnie Walker and a vodka tonic when you get a moment?”

  Reed jerks his chin up in acknowledgement as he finishes the drink he’s already making.

  “Congrats on the big win today, Penny,” I say, tipping my drink up to her and downing the rest.

  Her pretty face turns into a scowl at the use of the old nickname she got when we were in grade school.

  “I’ll let that slide because I’m in a really good mood,” she says, perching her ass on the stool as she waits on her drink order. “But you only get one pass.”

  I chuckle.

  I notice the new guy taking a seat on her other side. Reaching across the bar in front of Penelope, I hold my hand up to him. “August Monroe.” He takes my hand in a firm shake. I toss my thumb toward Bryan. “And that’s Bryan Erikson. You must be the guy who put Penelope in a good mood. It doesn’t happen often,” I wink at Penelope, “so however you landed your client, you need to use that skill more often.”

  The guy laughs and relaxes back in his seat. “Kian Hendrix. And I only landed him because Penelope laid the stepping stones. I only cemented them into place.”

  My mind zones out after he gives his name.

  Hendrix.

  The name isn’t uncommon, but Bryan said the new guy Penelope hired was from North Carolina. According to Luna’s introduction into my class, something I made her do before she took her seat that first day, she recently moved from North Carolina. And sure, there’s probably more than one Kian Hendrix in the state of North Carolina, but god dammit to hell, I’d bet my life there isn’t one who works in PR.

  Motherfucking hell. What are the fucking odds of meeting the father of the girl, my student no less, who I had spread out on my desk as I ate away at her pussy, tonight, in this bar? The same girl I’d like to fuck into next week and the week after.

  Penelope saying my name yanks me back to the moment.

  “August is one of the English teachers at Silver Falls High. Luna goes there, right?” She doesn’t wait for Kian to answer. “Maybe August is one of her teachers.”

  They both glance at me, waiting for confirmation. I hold Kian’s eyes and answer, “Yes, I do have Luna Hendrix in my class.”

  Reed picks that moment to bring Kian and Penelope’s drinks. When Penelope tries to hand over her card to pay for them, Kian beats her to it.

  “I was the one buying you a drink, remember?” she protests.

  “And I appreciate it,” Kian responds. He takes the card back when Reed hands it to him. “But a man never lets a woman pay.”

  “Fine,” she huffs. “But I’m getting the next round behind your back. You came through today, and I want to show my appreciation.”

  He takes a swallow of his drink. “This is it for me. Tuesdays are movie night with my wife and daughter.”

  “That’s disgustingly sweet,” she remarks, grabbing her drink and spinning on her stool. She gets to her feet. “Pass my phone number on to your wife. I need to have a chat with her to find out how she found a rare man like you, who actually enjoys spending time with his family.”

  She saunters off, the tight, black pencil skirt covering her ass twitching as she goes. I hold my hand up, grabbing Reed’s attention for another drink.

  “I’m heading out. Charlotte should be home soon. It was nice meeting you, Kian.” Bryan claps me on the back as he gets up from the stool. “Thanks for the advice.”

  Bryan leaves and Kian moves from his seat to Penelope’s now empty one.

  “How’s my girl doing in class?” he asks. “I know this move was hard on her.”

  My drink is set down in front of me, and I grab it, tossing half of it back before I answer Kian’s question.

  “She’s doing great.” Except for the fact she turned in a paper with explicit sexual details about her dream of me. I highly doubt her father would want to know that. “On time with all of her work. She has a very creative mind.”

  Indeed, she does.

  He smiles proudly. “That’s Luna for you. When she was younger, her mother and I would find notebooks all over the house with stories she’d written.”

  Something tells me he wouldn’t appreciate the stories she writes now.

  “She’s definitely very detailed with her descriptions,” I say vaguely.

  He’s quiet for a moment, in which I toss back the rest of my drink. I want another, but I need to have a clear head while talking with Luna’s father.

  “You notice any guys hanging around her?”

  His question catches me off guard, and I look over at him. His question could be considered innocent enough. Just a man looking after his offspring. But the look in his eyes says otherwise. I know the look. He’s out to protect his daughter and wants to know who she’s been fucking around with.

  My silence has him elaborating, and the hard set of his jaw indicates his displeasure of what he’s about to say. “I know it’s inappropriate to ask her teacher. It’s even more inappropriate to tell you she had a mark on her neck this morning. A hickey.” He looks down at his drink, clenching the glass tightly before bringing it to his lips. “A father needs to know the type of boys his daughter is hanging out with.”

  This whole situation is fucked up. Kian looks like a man who’d be sitting with a gun in his lap when Luna brings home a boy. I can imagine what he’d do to a man. Hell, I’d do the same. I’d fuck up his face so badly his family wouldn’t recognize him.

  Obviously, I won’t be telling him it was me who left that mark, and plan to leave many more.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to give him Aaron’s name. I’d be on board if Kian wants to kick that little punk’s ass. In fact, I’d be right there helping him.

  But I hold it back. Luna asked me to not say anything, and as much as Aaron deserves to have his face bashed in, I won’t go back on my word.

  “I haven’t seen her with any boys,” I tell him instead.

  He nods, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “Thanks.”

  He finishes off the rest of his drink and sets the glass down. He slaps the bar as he gets to his feet.

  “It was nice meeting you.” He holds his hand out for me to shake. “Let me know if Luna gives you any trouble in class, not that I expect her to. She takes after her mother more than me, and Rachel was valedictorian.”

  “You got it.”

  He walks off, leaving me at the bar alone.

  As wrong as the situation is, and at the risk of getting my ass handed to me by her father once he finds out—and he will eventually—my cock still turns hard when I think about all the dirty things I have left to teach Luna.

  Chapter Ten

  LUNA

  I lay on my stomach on my bed with my feet kicked up behind me. I have a magazine in front of me, but I’m not really paying attention to the articles. I just got done telling Hannah what happened between Mr. Monroe and me last Friday and then again on Monday.

  She’s quiet on her side of the line—too quiet—and it concerns me. I wait her out, because I know it’s coming.

  “Ho-ly mother of Hell,” she explodes as predicted. “If I weren’t your best friend and know you can’t lie for shit, I wouldn’t believe you.” She squeals, the sound piercing. “I’m so damn proud of you, Lu!”

  I snort. “Thanks. I’m still not quite sure what came over me. You know me, Hannah. What I did was in no way in my nature.”

  “Guess you never came across something you wanted bad enough to really go after it. I’m actually kind of jealous of you right now.”

  This makes me laugh. “You jealous of me?”

  “Girl, please.” She tsks. “I’ve been jealous of you plenty of times. You’re beautiful, smart, you kick ass with your writing, and your parents are amazing.”

  “You’re beautiful and smart too.”

  “Maybe so,” she responds. “But you’re smart without even trying. And your beauty is natural. I have to spend thirty minutes on my face in the mornings to perfect the look I want everyone to see.”

  “Daniel thinks you’re beautiful just the way you are,” I remind my friend.

  Her breath crackles across the line with her scoff. “He’s a horny teenage boy, so he thinks any girl is beautiful so long as she has big boobs and a hole to stick his dick in.”

  A strangled laugh escapes me. “That is not true, and you know it. That boy is obsessed with you.”

  “Only because I give amazing blowjobs.”

  I shake my head, even though she can’t see it. “You’re delusional, Hannah. Daniel would walk through fire for you. Everyone but you can see that.”

  “Eh, maybe. Enough about me though. You know I’ve always been curious what it would be like to sleep with an older man. Since none of the teachers at Beacon High are hot like your Mr. Monroe, I have to live precariously through you. I want all the dirty details.”

  I giggle and roll to the side of my bed to sit up, tossing the magazine on my nightstand. “The only thing I’ll say is that he made me feel things I never thought were possible.”

  “Nuh uh, I want more than that.”

  “Well, too bad,” I inform her stubbornly. “I still haven’t fully processed it yet. I need time to go over it in my head before I can talk about it more.”

  “You’re no fun,” she says, and I can imagine the pout on her lips. “So, do you really think this Aleah girl won’t say anything?”

  I get up and walk over to my dresser, picking out a pair of shorts and a tank top for my night clothes. Aleah and I have talked a couple more times since I took her home on Monday. The more I get to know her, the more I like her. She’s funny and reminds me a lot of Hannah.

  “It’s been three days. If she were going to say something, I think she would have already. And she’s hinted she’s got her own problems to worry about. I get the feeling it might be similar to mine.”

  “Jesus,” Hannah mutters over the phone. “How many fucking hot teachers do you have at that school? I might have to run away and come live with you.”

  I go to the bathroom and pull out a bath bomb. “The only hot teacher I know of is Mr. Monroe, so I’m not sure who she’s talking about.”

  We talk for a few more minutes before I let her go so I can get in the bath. The house is quiet as I step into the warm water. Mom and Dad are out and will be for a few more hours.

  After tying my hair into a messy bun on top of my head, I get in the bath and settle back against the tub. Picking up my phone from the shelf beside me, I click on my reading app and the book I’ve been reading pops up on the screen. I’ve been on a biker romance kick lately. There’s nothing hotter than a hot possessive biker manhandling his woman.

  Well, except maybe a hot teacher manhandling his student, my mind whispers.

  I’ve just gotten to a particularly juicy part where the unreasonably hot biker is eating out his woman as she stands at the bar serving customers, when a text notification pops up on my screen. I swipe down to bring it up, and suck in a sharp breath at what it says. I know who it’s from, even though the number reads as unknown.

  Unknown: I hope you’re ready to eat soon.

  How did he get my number? The school has it, sure, but does he have access to those files?

  I decide to ask him.

  Me: How did you get my number?

  The little dots start jumping seconds after my message displays as read.

  Unknown: Don’t worry about it. I have my ways.

  Before I can reply, another message pops up.

  Unknown: Have you been thinking about me? About how I’m going to feed you my cock and fuck that pretty mouth of yours?

  Those words have a shudder running through me and it makes the water in the tub ripple.

  Me: Maybe.

  I hit send, then immediately start a new message.

  Me: Why weren’t you at school yesterday and today?

  The little dots bounce, stop, then bounce again before his reply pops up.

  Unknown: I had a family commitment yesterday and had an appointment this afternoon that I had to leave early for.

  His reply is followed quickly by another.

  Unknown: Did you touch yourself when you thought about what I’m going to do to you?

  Yes, yes, I did. Monday afternoon I came home and told my parents I would be in my room for a while doing homework. I did not do homework. Instead, I laid on my bed with my hands in my panties and replayed what Mr. Monroe did to me as I sat on his desk over and over again. I finished the memory by adding more to it of how he would take my mouth with his dick.

  I felt guilty afterward because I made myself come with my parents awake in the house. But that didn’t stop me from doing it again that night. Or last night.

  Me: I did. I thought of all the different ways you would have me suck you off.

  I hit send before I chicken out. This girl, this brazen and shameless girl, is not me. I’ve never been bold when it comes to guys, but I have to admit, I like the way it makes me feel.

  It takes a moment for Mr. Monroe to reply. In that time, I add his number to my contacts.

  AM: What are you doing right now?

  Me: Lying in my bathtub reading a book on my phone.

  AM: Are your parents home?

  Me: Out for the night. It’s their anniversary.

  I hold my breath, waiting for his reply. Wondering if he’ll ask me to touch myself. The thought of sexting has never appealed to me, but doing it with Mr. Monroe definitely has its appeal.

  I draw my legs up and slide them back and forth together. I’m already turned on by his messages so far. I’m going to be a mess if he asks me to touch myself. As intimidating as it would be, I wouldn’t be opposed to him calling me. That way I could hear his voice and could tell if he was as turned on as I am.

  Will he touch himself too?

  I close my eyes, picturing his hand sliding up and down his cock. The cock in my mind is blurry because I haven’t actually seen his, but they sorta all look the same, right? I mean, except for the size, of course.

  I open my eyes a moment later to look down at my phone and realize it’s been several minutes since I sent my last message. My last message shows as read, but there’s no reply.

  I frown as disappointment hits me. Maybe he got a phone call and can’t reply yet. Or maybe he received a visitor. Or it could be that he’s not into sexting.

  After another ten minutes go by without a reply, I set my phone back on the shelf. No longer in a relaxing mood, I quickly shave my legs and pull the plug to the tub. I stand and grab a big, fluffy towel to dry off with.

  I’ve just finished putting on my night clothes when the doorbell rings. Picking up my phone on the way out of the bathroom, I check the time. Who would be knocking on the door at eight-thirty? Except for the occasional delivery, we don’t get visitors.

  Walking to the door on bare feet, I lift to my toes and check the peephole. Seeing the fishbowl head on the other side of the door has me falling back to my feet and my heart thumping heavily in my chest.

  I unlock the deadbolt and grip the door knob, pulling the door open a second later.

  Mr. Monroe stands there, one hand shoved into his pocket, while the other rests on the doorframe. He looks entirely way too sexy. His brown hair is a mess, like he’s recently run his fingers through it. I haven’t seen him in two days, and it looks like he hasn’t shaved in that time. The scruff on his cheeks and chin surprisingly appeals to me. He’s wearing jeans that look like they’ve been through the washer a few too many times, and a dark gray Henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

  It’s his eyes though, that have me vibrating with need. They pin me in place with the intense way he runs them up and down my body. I have virtually no experience when it comes to sex, except for what he’s shown me, but even I can recognize the need in his eyes. He looks as though he’s on the verge of pouncing.

 

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