goes out of his way to. From the tendon bulging in his neck, I know he’s aware of my malevolent plan…and he’s not happy about it.
Karsyn sits in the seat beside mine, and I find myself boxed between two sexy as sin, and equally as wicked, men. They don’t bother to even acknowledge each other as they pull out their copies of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.
Cas is fucking fuming, but that only makes my smile broaden. Why is it so hilarious to see them uncomfortable? What does it say about me that I like watching them squirm?
When the tension becomes almost unbearable, stretching between us like the slime you can purchase in toy stores, Cassian finally spins around and levels me with an inscrutable stare. He always was the easiest to break.
“Why are you here?” he demands, scowling. This close, I can see the minuscule changes that have transpired over the years. Like Karsyn, he’s bulked up significantly, filling his long-sleeved white button-down and blue jeans impeccably. His black hair, a shade darker than his onyx skin, is buzzed short, accentuating the harsh planes of his masculine face. It’s no wonder women flock to him—he’s gorgeous. Even with the hatred I feel for him, I can admit that easily enough. There’s something about him that draws you in like a trap hidden beneath leaves. It captures your ankle, propelling you dozens of feet into the air, and you’re forced to dangle above the forest ground as you contemplate your own stupidity. And Cassian? He’s the definition of “contemplating your own stupidity.” He’s the type of man you could get lost in.
“Why, I’m here to study classic literature,” I taunt as I pull out my own copy of the current assignment. I emailed most of my teachers when I discovered I’d be showing up to the semester a month later than normal. Mrs. Town immediately sent a reading list for me to complete, as well as some sample essay questions.
“That’s not what I meant,” he growls through clenched teeth. He throws an irritated look in Karsyn’s direction, one I can’t read, before sitting ramrod straight in his chair. From this angle, I can see every rigid line of his back as anger cascades through him.
It’s really fucking funny.
“Do you mean why I’m here, at this school?” I lean forward until my chin rests on his shoulder. He tenses, the action almost imperceptible, and the tempo of his heart increases significantly.
“Yes.” He doesn’t bother to move his head to look at me, but we’re so close, I can discern the smell of his peppermint toothpaste.
Instead of answering, I simply pat his cheek before sliding back into my seat, kicking my legs out far enough to touch his. Keeping my eyes trained on the back of his head, I slowly run the toes of my shoes up and down his ankle. He freezes, hands tightening around his pencil, but doesn’t move away.
“Good afternoon,” a sultry voice proclaims as the classroom door opens and closes. I can’t help but notice that all of the guys—sans Karsyn and Cassian, who are still sitting as if they have poles up their asses—lean forward in anticipation, practically salivating, as the gorgeous teacher enters the classroom.
The gorgeous, redheaded teacher.
The gorgeous, redheaded, cock-sucking teacher.
Oh. My. Fuck.
Mrs. Town was the one I saw just this morning, her red lips wrapped around Cassian’s dick.
A laugh escapes before I can contain it, and Mrs. Town whips her head in my direction. She really is sexy, though it’s easy to see why I initially mistook her for a student. Her red hair hangs around her in shiny, voluminous curls. She’s also significantly shorter than a lot of women, coming in at barely five feet. With her clear skin, rosy red lips, and perfectly applied mascara, she could pass for just another one of Cassian’s groupies.
But she’s not.
She’s his fucking teacher, and she’s a Mrs.
She’s his married fucking teacher.
“Ms. Simone, do you find something funny?” Her voice carries a husky undercurrent to it that probably makes her irresistible to the male population. I see more than one guy grinning slyly in her direction.
“Nope, not at all.” I offer her my sweetest, most innocent smile. Her eyes narrow slightly, almost suspiciously, before she turns towards the whiteboard, stretching on her tiptoes to write in delicate scrawl across the board. The movement causes her blouse to rise up and gives the class a clear view of her perky ass in the pencil-skirt. I see