Page 49 of Teacher's Pet

It’s one thing to drink for pleasure.

It’s another to drink to drown out the thought of a woman.

After my little interaction with Walker in the hallway, I fucking spiraled.

He touched her.

He touched what'smine.

His hands were on her body, feeling things that no one, no one but me, should ever get to experience.

And now, she might be at that party, drunk off her ass, allowing him to put his filthy hands on her again.

The thought makes something dark coil inside me, thick and suffocating.

He doesn’t deserve her lips wrapped around his tainted cock.

He doesn’t deserve to hear what her moans sound like.

The only person who should be making her feel anything, pain or pleasure, is me.

And if she’s at that party right now?

I might just have to remind her of that.

I saw it in her eyes that night.

The want.

The way her body melted into my touch, the way she practically sang my praises with the wet mess between her thighs.

I knew this wasn’t one-sided.

She wanted me.

And if anything, Walker’s little outburst only confirmed it. She doesn’t want his hands on her. She doesn’t want his mouth.

She only wants me.

But it’s wrong.

It’s so fucking wrong.

Exerting my authority over her in the bedroom is one thing. Having to face her as her teacher, pretending like none of this is happening, is nothing short of torture.

All of this is fucking torture.

I debated calling one of the women on speed dial, seeking some kind of release, some temporary fix.

I scrolled through name after name, looking for someone, anyone, who even remotely resembled Ana.

And that’s when it hit me.

There’s something wrong with me.

I can have anything I want. Anyone I want. And yet, the one thing I know I should stay away from, the one thing that could jeopardize my distance from my family, is the very thing I’m walking toward like there are no fucking consequences.

I have to stay away from her.

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