Page 25 of Teacher's Pet

The last thing I need is to compromise my job, my career, just for the sake of getting my dick wet. Moving forward, I’ll keep my head down, focus on my work, and avoid her at all costs.

I’ll-

I stop dead in my tracks. My heart skips a beat as I freeze when I see her. The fiery red of her hair, the way it cascades down her back like a silken wave, and her cat-like green-blue eyes locked onto mine. She’s leaning casually against my classroom’s door, a bottle in her hand, dressed in what most would consider nighttime attire. Loose, barely-there clothes that leave little to the imagination.

In small plaid shorts that barely cover her thighs and a tight-fitting tank top that leaves little to the imagination, her curves are impossible to ignore. The way her breasts press against the fabric is hard to look away from, no matter how hard I try to focus. She looks disheveled, like she’s been through a storm, her hair tousled and her skin flushed. She grips a large, empty bottle of wine with a white-knuckled fist, her fingers trembling slightly, as though she’s barely holding herself together.

"Hey, Mr. Ackerman," she slurs, her voice rasping in a way that sends a chill down my spine. "Ready to give me some extra credit?"

It’s settled. There’s no denying it now.

God really must hate me.

Anastasia

Regretting my words well after they’ve already left my mouth, the alcohol coursing through my veins makes it impossible to find the usual restraint I’d have in a situation like this. The filter I’d normally rely on is completely gone.

I drop the wine bottle in my hand, watching it roll until it comes to a stop by his feet.

He looks a little less orderly than when I saw him earlier. His cheeks are flushed with color, his eyes hazy and distant, as though he’s been drinking too.

"Did you hear me?" I ask, my voice a little unsteady.

He blinks a few times, as if trying to shake off the fog in his head, and slowly closes his mouth, which had been hanging open. Then he steps toward me, his gaze intense but unsure.

"Ana, what are you doing?" His voice is low, a hint of concern creeping in as he grabs my arm, ready to yank me away from the door.

"I’m enjoying my night," I slur, the words tumbling out in a haze. Shoving him back with more force than I expect, I fight off a cough threatening to erupt from my swollen throat. "The alcohol dulls the pain," I add with a wicked smile, pointing to my throat with a malicious grin.

"What pain?" His expression turns into a deep frown, confusion and concern playing across his features.

"I’ll tell you all about it if you open that door and let me sit down for a few," I grin, pushing my luck with a wink.

Before I can stumble any further, he catches me, his strong hands gripping my arms to keep me upright. The warmth of his body against mine sends a wave of heat through me, awakening a desire I can’t suppress, one that feels entirely wrong.

Fuck, not now.

The smell of alcohol on his breath hits me before his eyes lock onto mine, the look in them dark and predatory.

"You've been drinking too, Mr. Ackerman," I beam, the words escaping before I can stop them. Grabbing his chin, I force him to meet my gaze, stopping him from looking away. "Naughty. What would your colleagues think..."

Watching something shift in his expression, his eyes narrow with intensity. My back slams against the door of his room before I even realize what’s happening. He holds me in place with a firm grip around my neck, his touch anything but gentle.

Already struggling to catch my breath after Walker’s outburst, Noah’s hand around my throat makes it harder to breathe, the pressure pushing the air from my lungs.

So why is it, despite the panic clawing at my chest, that I can feel my underwear dampening the longer his hands stay on me?

"What the hell are you doing?" Noah whispers, his voice dangerously close to my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "What the hell do you hope to accomplish, drunk off your ass, dressed like that outside my door? What if it hadn’t been me who found you like this? What do you think one of these college guys would have done to you-"

"Did to me," the words slip out before I can stop them. The moment they leave my lips, Noah eases up on his grip around my neck, but his hands settle firmly on either side of my head. His gaze locks onto mine, filled with a quiet, commanding authority that sends a shiver through me. An authority that could drop me to my knees without a second thought.

"What did you say?" His voice is low, controlled, but there's a tension there, waiting to snap.

"Did to me. One of those college guys already found me. Why the hell do you think I’ve been drinking?" I question, unsure why I’m suddenly spilling my guts to him, why I’m letting myself unravel in front of him like this. "Initially, I could handle his half-assed attempt at making me cum all over his fingers," I smile, the bitterness in my words hanging thick in the air. Noah’s eye twitches, the tension between us palpable.

"But then, I closed my eyes while he was trying to bury his fingers in me and thought of one person."

I peer up at him innocently, biting my lip, my heart pounding in my chest. "And for some reason, when I thought about that person, I got so damn wet, Walker thought he was on top of the world-"

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