Page 58 of Taming His Teacher

My desperate contingency planning is interrupted by more words coming out of Headmaster Wilson’s mouth. “There would be one way for us to skirt the rules, however.”

“How?”

“It’s a long shot and I’m not sure you’d want to take on the responsibility, but—”

“I would do anything.” Headmaster Wilson doesn’t have a complete picture of what my life was like before I came here, and I’m glad. No matter how often I tell myself my circumstances growing up were in no way my responsibility or fault, it’s something that nags at me with shame. Coming here was the best thing that ever happened to me. If I have a shot to do the same for Caleb… Well, there’s a very short list of things I wouldn’t do and I’m pretty sure Headmaster Wilson isn’t going to ask me to kill someone.

He nods at the ferocity in my tone and spreads his hands over the desk. “If you were to be named Caleb’s legal guardian, he would have the same privileges as any son of a faculty member. That would include no-questions-asked admission to the school, room and board covered. You’d have to pay for books and the rest, but—”

A crowbar of hope wrenches my heart wide open. There’s a way. Once Caleb gets here, he’ll be fine. He’ll never get straight As but he’ll make it worth the Headmaster’s while. I’ll make sure of it.

The bubble of ridiculous optimism is popped. My dad is never going to go for this. Never. It was bad enough having me come to this “faggot-assed school,” but no way is he going to, even on paper, give up custody of one of his kids to make that happen. Never. But goddamn if I’m not going to die trying.

“Thank you for letting me know, sir. I’ll get back to you when I’ve been in touch with my family. When do you need to know by?”

“The end of spring break would be best. It’s soon, but we’ll need to have a head count on acceptances sooner rather than later.”

“Of course. I’ll let you know as soon as possible. Thank you, sir. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“I think I do. And you can stop calling me sir. You’re faculty now. Everett will do.”

“Yes, si— Yes. Thank you.” I can’t quite bring myself to call him Everett. It goes against years of hardwiring, but I suppose I should start. Especially if Erin and I are going to be together. They’re not Headmaster and Mrs. Wilson to her, but Uncle Rett and Aunt Tilly. A small smile slips over my face as I push out of the chair to go see her.

* * *

Erin

I’m woken by a heavy, warm weight sinking behind me on the mattress. I smile and lift my arm so he can curl around me before I wiggle my way against him.

“What’re you doing here? Did the—”

“No one saw me. It’s too early. But that means we should get up and go before anyone does wake up.”

The way he’s nuzzling my neck doesn’t make me want to get up. It makes me want to stay in bed forever. With him. Heaven. I roll over and pull closer, close enough to smell him—still that intoxicating mix of bar soap and skin. I can’t help but lick at his throat. I stifle a giggle as his body goes rigid under my attentions and a choked grunt escapes him. I could be imagining it through the sheets and the comforter and my pajama bottoms and his jeans, but I’m almost positive he’s hard for me.

I rock against him to see if I can tell for sure, but his hand fists in my hair and he holds me in place while he rolls away.

“You are temptation personified, but we’ve still got another week. Get in the shower and get dressed. I’ll get some breakfast from the dining hall and we’ll meet at my car in half an hour. Dress warm.”

I want to tell him I’d be warmer if I weren’t wearing anything at all, but I’ve promised myself I’ll be respectful of his wishes. His ridiculously frustrating wishes. But when he leans in to kiss my forehead, his hand still tightly wrapped in my hair, I soften. I want to please him. I want to be good for him.

“Yes, Zach.”

He groans and pulls my hair, hard, somehow also yanking on a yarn of desire running from my scalp to my…pussy.Yes, Erin, pussy. How are you going to say it out loud if you can barely think it without blushing?

He lets go, muttering something about obnoxious guys and goddamn dormitories, and stands, reaching into his jeans to adjust himself. I have to yank a pillow over my face to hide the rabid desire I have to watch him take himself in hand and…

The pillow is tugged off my face. “Come on, lamb. Up you get. I’ll see you in a little bit. Don’t be late.”

Thirty minutes later I’m climbing into his Volvo, where he’s waiting with a lemon poppy-seed muffin, a banana, and two coffees. “What are you going to eat?”

“I ate in the dining hall. I’m not going to eat while I’m driving.”

So cautious. But it somehow seems like self-control instead of Will’s mincing worries. And the crumpled empty bag of potato chips at my feet says,I’m not going to eat while I’m drivingwith you.

When I’ve buckled my seatbelt, he pulls smoothly out of the space and onto the narrow drive headed away from the dorms, away from campus, away from the boys. His car smells like him and it’s like being surrounded by Shep.

“Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”

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