Page 1 of Tempting Teacher

Chapter One

~Alexander~

“How much?”

“For?”

“Don’t try and be coy with me, Xander.” Her painted lips pursing into a tight smile as one perfectly sculpted brow arches.

She was right. I was being coy. And why not? It came with the territory. I knew exactly what she wanted, but sometimes making them come right out and ask for it was so much more fun. For me, of course. I swing my legs out from under the table, then cross one knee over the other. I bring the tumbler of whiskey I’m holding to my mouth and take a very slow sip, my eyes never leaving hers. I swallow, run my tongue across my lower lip to capture every bit of the savory liquid, and of course, to tease her. “Are you asking how much longer our date is?”

“No.” Her manicured nail taps against the stem of her champagne flute, then stops. “How much for you to fuck me?”

“Ah, that.” I cock one side of my mouth up, enjoying the flush that colors her cheeks. I decide I want to make her squirm just a bit more. “You understand that Temptations is a reputable escort agency? That you hire an escort to take you to dinner, or a ball perhaps, or maybe even to an awards show?” I take another taste of my drink, and continue to toy with her. “Have the contracts changed to include sexual favors?” I force a frown, shaking my head. “Someone has some explaining to do at Temptations.”

“Stop trying to embarrass me.” She hisses from across the table, leaning her body closer as she lowers her voice. “Marjorie Perkins said you might, said that you, that-“

I close the distance between us, my face now an inch from hers, and finish the sentence she can’t seem to complete. “That I might fuck you for the right price.”

Her eyes widen as she draws a sudden breath through flared nostrils, her exhale hot when she responds. “Yes.”

I shift my gaze to her mouth, her bottom lip currently clenched between her teeth, her red lipstick smearing. I love that she’s nervous. Most of the women that pose this question don’t even bother to ask. They simply assume. She’s certainly beautiful enough to make my dick hard. Fucking her wouldn’t be a hardship. But still, I want to know more. I was so tired of dates requesting I tie them up or spank them so they can live out some god damn fantasy they watched in a movie. I admit, at first, it was fun, but after a while, anything can get old.

And let’s be extra clear; taking money for sex is illegal in the state of New York. The agency I work for, Temptations, isn’t involved, or have knowledge of, these transactions in any way. Any risk I take in accepting or considering an offer like this is mine completely.

I reach out and use my thumb to tug her lip free, then swipe the pad against her teeth to remove the stain. “Aren’t you married Jessa? What aren’t you getting at home that you need from me?”

“Honestly?”

“That would be a nice change of pace.” I muse out loud.

“My husband has been screwing his secretary every Friday night for the past several months.” She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I know, so original of him, right?”

I shrug, not sure if she really needs a response. “Ah, so you want to get even.” It’s a declaration, not a question.

“Does that make me an awful person?”

“I don’t really think I’m in any position to judge. I fuck people for money.” Let’s also be clear; I never said I followed the law.

“You’ll do it then?” Hope blossoms across her features.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” I lean back, uncrossing my legs as I toss back the rest of my drink.

“I have a room reserved here. On the fifteenth floor. It faces my husband’s office. He’s working there right now. I want you to have sex with me in the window. I want him to see. I want him to get a taste of his own medicine.”

“Twenty-five hundred. Two hours. I’ll fuck you anywhere you want, anyway you want, in any hole you want.”

Her mouth forms a small O shape at my words, silence the only sound between us.

“To answer your original question of how much.” I lift my hand to flag the waiter for the check. “Plus, the cost of dinner of course.”

“Okay.” She stammers, pulling a black American Express card from an Hermes wallet that I’m sure cost more than most people’s monthly rent. She slides it into the leather binder the waiter left, raising her eyes to mine. “I’m assuming cash works best?”

“Cash is all that works.” I place my hand over her trembling one. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.” She shifts her gaze to our joined hands, a nervous laugh tumbling from her. “No.”

I lift my hand and place it under her chin, raising it until she’s looking at me. “This is all about you. I’ll only do what you want. Nothing more. You’re in control here. I promise there is nothing to be scared of. At least, not from me.”

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