Page 23 of Cruel Legacy

Coach Wolfe finally comes into view. If I had enemies, right now -this very second- would be the perfect time for them to launch a sneak attack on me. I’m so shocked at what I’m seeing that I’d be too slow to react and defend myself. It’shim. The stranger from the bar.

I’ve been dreaming about that face, and those hazel eyes staring at me, while he did delicious things to my tits. The voice that felt like it was burrowing its way under my skin as he whispered filthy things in my ear.

Those eyes sweep over me now, as if I’m not even here. That brings me back to the present. Maybe he doesn’t recognize me. That’s a good thing, because this shit’s embarrassing. I was counting on never seeing him again.

I’m an adult and I’ve been in awkward situations before. Since he doesn’t seem to know who I am, it’ll make pretending like it never happened easier.

I ignore the topsy-turvy feeling swarming around in my stomach, and focus on what he’s saying. He’s talking about class expectations and proper gym attire. News flash, your stomach, tits, and bikini line have to be covered.

I’m wearing yoga pants that come to mid-calf, and a sports bra. The shirt I’m wearing over it hits the top of my upper thigh and I have my zip up hoodie on. I always dress in layers at the gym, removing my hoodie after my warm up, and eventually my shirt the deeper into my workout I get. I’ll be sure to wear a tank top since it sounds like the sports bra look is frowned upon.

Coach Wolfe paces in front of the class, his walk slow and commanding, every bit the apex predator his name implies. If I had to fight him, I’d have to work for a win.

My warped mind flashes to an image of being pinned underneath him as he uses the thing in his pants to try to force me to submit. I unzip my jacket, the temperature of the room is suddenly hotter than it was seconds ago.

Okay, Thea. He’s your teacher. He doesn’t remember you, and you’re happy about it because it’s one and done. And because he’s your teacher, so. Yeah. There are probably school rules forbidding it.

“If you signed up for this class because you heard it was an easy A. You were lied to. We work out and work hard. There will be days when you will feel like you have to throw up, and days when you probablywillthrow up. Expect bumps, bruises, and an occasional black eye. Your safety is important, but accidents happen.” He waves a stack of papers. “And as such, each of you must read and sign the liability waiver. Wet signaturesonly.”

My mind blitzes out again, remembering what he did when I was wet. Then it shifts to him, swallowing that wetness like it was a cool, refreshing drink. Damn, that was hot, and…no, no, no. Focus. He’s my teacher, and he’s still talking. I force myself to listen.

He concludes his speech with, “If you’re uncomfortable with that, your pampered asses have until Friday to withdraw from the class without penalty.”

This school is dickhead central. For the cost of this high ass tuition, they should pay me to have to put up with this shit. He’s talking to the entire class, but it feels as if that last statement was specifically for me. Am I gonna drop this class just to avoid seeing the guy I fucked in an alley? I square my shoulders and slap a bored expression on my face. Not a chance.

* * *

My first full week of class is in the bag. There’s some kind of faculty holiday, on Monday, so most of the students have gone home or to the beach. Or their homes on the beach.Whatever.Aunt Moira said I was welcome to come to the house. I declined. I’d rather be here acclimating myself to my surroundings and doing what I’m about to do right now. Explore the woods behind the campus in peace.

I fold the map so the trail I’m looking for is topside up and run my finger over the squiggly line, making note of the way it winds through the trees. It’s not to scale or an actual image of the path, but I like to know which way my body should be going, and as long as north is always north, I can figure out where the hell I am. I have my compass in my pocket, a hat on my head, my jacket, plenty of water and snacks in my bag, and my portable charger in case my battery dies before I get back.

I fold the map smaller and tuck it into the side pocket of my backpack. With one quick look to make sure my shoes are tied, I step through the trees, ready for my first Canyon Falls adventure. Technicallysecond, but since Coach Deacon Wolfe is a jerk, I’m pretending the whole bar scene never happened.

An hour into my hike, I see something that’s not on the map. It’s a path that veers off the main road. In the horror movies you’re not supposed to deviate from your route but this is real life, and I’ve learned sometimes the best way to explore is by veering off. So, I mark a tree with my knife, then take the path less taken. Literally. As thick as the brush is, I doubt anyone ever comes this way. I have to duck down under low hanging tree branches and prickly foliage as I pick my way along.

Finally, about a hundred feet in, it clears. I walk another fifteen minutes, then come to a stop, a squeal tumbling from my lips. This is why I don’t feed into Urban Legends. Smack dab in the middle of nowhere, I’ve stumbled across a stream. It’s tucked away back here like a secret oasis.

It’s hot as hell today, and a sheen of sweat already coats my skin. I take a seat on one of the fallen logs and sip some water, as I watch the gentle ripples in the stream. I wish I had a bathing suit, so I could swim. If I were in Nags Creek, and this was the high school’s swimming pool, I’d jump in. But hiking with wet clothes isn’t my idea of fun. Then again… I’m in the middle of nowhere. Alone. This would be one of those times when Sasha calls me insane. I stand, pulling off my clothes and wade into the stream, sighing as the water cools my skin.

I don’t know how people do it. Work jobs that keep them cooped up in stuffy, artificially oxygenated buildings all day. A desk job would literally eat away at my soul. I’m a nature lover. I belong outside.

I swim a little distance from the shore, then flip over on my back, floating as I look up at the sky, peaking through the canopy of trees. One day I’ll come back here to watch the sunset. I can imagine how beautiful it looks.

There’s a rock jutting out of the water. I swim over to it and climb up on it, letting the sun warm my skin, lazily dragging my hands down my body. I brush palms against my nipples before gently squeezing them, biting my lower lip as I give them a tug, then move one hand lower, gliding it across my hip, over my thigh, between my legs, dipping my finger between my folds, and rubbing my clit, alternating between slow lazy circles and dipping my finger into my slickness, gathering some of the wetness before rubbing my clit again.

I find a steady rhythm, working my pussy over, pushing myself toward release. It’s not as good as a thick cock, but an orgasm is an orgasm and I need one. It’s already been too long since my last one.

A week might not seem like a lot of time for some people, but for me, it is. I’ve been too busy getting settled and haven’t taken time to please myself. It’s perfect that I’m doing it now. Out here. Where I feel free and the sexiest I’ve ever felt. I’m not quiet about how good I’m making myself feel, letting my moans and whimpers join the chorus of the wildlife in the trees.

“Fuuuck,” I pant as my release ripples through me, easing the last bit of tension from my body. When my breathing steadies, I slip back into the water, to rinse off, and swim back to the bank. I would love to stay out here longer, but I’ve got more ground to cover on my hike. Sighing, I pull myself from the water, and brush the water droplets from my skin as best I can. I take a few minutes to finger detangle my hair and braid it in two French braids while the blistering sun dries me the rest of the way.

I’ve finished putting my shirt on and I’m bending over to retrieve my boot when a branch snaps behind me. I whirl around and see a shadow dart behind the trees.What the fuck?Is someone perving on me? Did they see me on that rock? It’s far enough away that you couldn’t make out my features, but close enough to know I was naked and what I was doing. I slip Clint out of my other shoe and yell, “Don’t hide now! Come out here and I’ll give you a closer look at my tits.”

I won’t, but whoever is out here doesn’t know that. On bare feet, I pick my way over to the tree across from the one where I saw the shadow. When I rush behind it, it’s empty. I scan the path, searching for anyone or anything which would explain what I saw. There’s nothing suspicious around, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t something or someone here. I go back over to the fallen log to finish dressing, then make my way back to the original path, with Clint tucked into the waistband of my shorts instead of in my pocket.

If someoneisout here creeping on me, I’ll be ready.

Chapter12

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