Honor Thy Teacher (Honor Series) - By Mummert, Teresa Page 0,12

the physical connection between us. This was what she wanted. She wasn’t thinking of me day and night, like I was of her. She wanted the one thing I could give to her. She wanted to lose control. But I hadn’t picked her up at the club. She couldn’t possibly know what she was asking from me. I needed to explain things to her. I had this conversation before. Sometimes they would give in and want to play, others would leave and never look back. What would I do if she left? What if she runs away? The thought made me sick.

I pulled out my keys and quickly unlocked the deadbolt, pushing the door wide open. I wanted her to see that I wasn’t living in an abandoned warehouse. I had made it my home. It was warm and inviting. The walls a rich brown with artwork dotted throughout.

“Not what you expected?” I asked, waiting for some sort of reassurance that she was okay. She nodded, a small smile hinting at the corners of her mouth. She noticeably relaxed. I closed the door behind her, locking it. I reluctantly released her arm.

I walked into the kitchen area, her footsteps echoing behind me. She stopped on the opposite side of the island and watched as I dug around in the cupboards. I pulled out a bottle of scotch and two small glasses. She eyed me curiously, as I filled them. The truth was, it wasn’t for her. I needed the liquid courage to keep from pulling her into my arms and saying things I would later regret, breaking her heart.

“Oh, I can’t” She said with the wave of her delicate fingers. I slid one of the glasses towards her.

“You will need this.” I smirked as I slammed back my drink, hoping she wouldn’t notice the slight tremble of my hands. I wanted to throw her down on the island and have my way with her right here. Maybe one day I thought. Not today. She grabbed her drink and gulped it down quickly, making a face as it passed her lips. I refilled the glasses.

“I have very particular tastes.” I said as I swirled the brown liquid in my glass before drinking it down. She drank hers, this time her expression unchanging. She glanced around the room.

“I like your taste.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

“That’s not what I meant.” I smiled at her innocence as I refilled the glasses. “I like to be in control.” I explained, hoping she would understand. “But I will never do anything you don’t want me to do.” I could see her withdrawal slightly. I walked around the island and cautiously placed my hand on her neck, sliding my fingers down over her chest, stopping just before reaching her breasts. Her body responded as she arched her back towards my hand. I wanted to force myself to stop but the pull to her was far too great.

“I understand.” Her voice rang through with false confidence. It was understandable, I was nervous as well. She bit her lip.

“If you understood you wouldn’t keep biting your lip like that.” My body involuntarily pushed flush against hers. Her hands snaked their way to my chest and she began to fumble with the buttons on my shirt. Oh, God. How had I not noticed the innocence in her before? I knew she wasn’t like the others but…

“Have you ever done this before?” I asked as I tried to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat. I searched her eyes, hoping I had misread her.

“I don’t make it a habit of sleeping with my professors.” She replied, sarcasm dripping from her words. Behind that, there was a nervousness.

“That’s not what I meant.” I could tell she understood but didn’t want to say the words.

“No” She whispered, looking down at the still fastened buttons of my shirt. I pushed back from her, needing space in between us. I had never even considered the fact that she was a virgin. Very few at her age are. I tried my best to hide the horror in my eyes as I thought back to bending her over my desk. I must have been unsuccessful because she immediately crossed her arms over her chest, her face wrought with rejection. I wanted to protect her, to make that sad expression fade away.

“Look at me.” I pleaded with her. She did not move, staring blankly at her feet. “Look at me.” I said again,