Page 26 of Wicked Ends
Holy shit, what have I done?
Marcus
I pushedthe barbell up from my chest and drove through my core to straighten my arms, grunting at the effort. The ice rink gym was quiet on a Monday afternoon, exactly how I preferred it.
“I’m sorry—so sorry…”My birthday girl’s voice echoed around my head.“For… taking advantage of you.”
A chuckle left me, despite the heavy weight braced over me. I slowly lowered my arms, fire ripping along the muscles. I refused to hurry or let gravity win for even a second.
“The power dynamic, it’s not right.”
I racked the heavy barbell and sat up, straddling the bench. I took a long pull of water from the bottle beside me, the icy liquid cutting through the heat in my head.
I was never a guy who’d had much luck, but walking into class this morning and seeing my new professor there, trying so hard to be serious and professional, keeping her pretty eyes from me, clenching her hands into fists… fuck me, that was a sight. I’d liked that a lot. I’d expected to see her around town,and right the wrong of her creeping out on me without my permission. What I hadn’t expected was for her to show up in my music theory class, pink-cheeked, guilty as sin, and so fucking panicked, it was adorable.
It soothed the burn on my ego that she hadn’t hung around to see if I was interested in fucking her again. Plus, the professor thing was hot… and only I knew what a showstopping body she had hidden under her uptight work outfit. Only I knew how she sounded when she came, and how she sucked my cock like it was a lollipop. A secret, only for me.
What I got the biggest kick out of was her moral crisis. Treating me like I was an at-risk youth she had to protect… it was a fucking riot. She thought our power dynamic was dangerous? She had no idea how dangerous it was about to become. I found myself smiling at my reflection across from me. I loved to play, and it seemed like I’d found my own pretty little game after all.
Lara, a puck bunny who’d been edging her way closer to the Ice Gods in recent trainings, lingered by the watercooler, smiling at me whenever I tossed a look in her direction. This weight room was invitation only. I wondered who the hell had let their dick lead them into inviting her in here.
“Marcus! Good workout today,” she enthused.
I walked past her to shower.
“Yeah, thanks.” I wondered where the hell Ms. Moore was staying in town. It was obvious she was new. New town, new job. Still, she had to be staying somewhere. Ms. Moore. Anna. Arianna. Ari. Sure, Anna could be short for Arianna, but something in her pink cheeks and guilty eyes told me there wasa story there. Her secrets were becoming increasingly enticing to uncover. Maybe tonight would be a good time to start.
After showering, I got on my motorcycle in the hockey parking lot and started the engine. A low rumble sounded around the lot. The Hellions could bring their vehicles onto campus, as long as they only went to and from the rink. Only the richest and most connected of students could take their car wherever they wanted, like my buddy, Beckett. Rich bastard.
Lara had waited around outside for me. Now, she lingered at my side. I pulled my helmet on.
“Are you going to the party on Friday?” she asked, repeating herself twice so I could hear her over the engine.
I shrugged. “Postgame? I usually do.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there,” she called out.
I nodded, my mind already straying back to my mystery teacher.
I needed to head off campus grounds and park in the lot near the dorms. Despite that, I found myself turning along the road that would take me to the front gates and the staff lot. There weren’t many people around, and no security, so no one stopped me. I drove along the restricted road and cut over to the main entrance, then followed it toward the staff lot.
I wondered what Arianna would drive. Was she being picked up? Did she know anyone in town? She was hiding her title… was she married? Divorced? Did she have a boyfriend or a husband? Curiosity pricked at me. I pulled up just beyond the staff lot and waited. Had she left for the day? I doubted it. She was new, young, and earnest as hell. I’d bet she wanted to earn her stripes. Teachers left in a steady stream as I waited, each one moreboring than the next. It didn’t bother me. I could be patient, like all good hunters.
Then, like the gods had decided to shine down on me, the back door of one of the buildings opened, and there she was. She walked out onto the gravel, and the door behind her stayed open for a long moment, then someone joined her.
Professor Straiton, known around campus as Professor Casanova from the English department. I recognized him immediately. He was the professor all the girls sighed over. Apparently, the sight of him reading Byron, his glasses perched on the tip of his aristocratic nose, was enough to make the female students in his classes squirm. Personally, I didn’t see the appeal. He looked like his arm would get tired grading too many English papers, but to each their own.
My birthday girl and Professor Straiton walked across the lot to a beat-up old junker and stopped. That had better not be her fucking ride. It seemed like it might collapse or catch on fire at any second… maybe both.
They were talking, but I was too far away to hear. She laughed, the sound carrying across the lot, and hot, unbidden anger surged in my chest.
It was a good sound. A beautiful sound… and one that I had enjoyed hearing on Friday night. But on Friday night, I’d been the one making her laugh.
Now, that manwhore of an English Lit professor thought he could charm the new teacher’s panties off on her first day. He had another think coming. Professor Casanova had quite the reputation. Not only did he make all his female students wet, but he also hooked up with them on a weekly basis. He was inhis early forties, so what Arianna would think about that age gap would be interesting to find out. I’d make sure to let her know, since she was so concerned with those kinds of things.
The English department motherfucker was gesturing and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He was giving her his number.
Well, not to worry; that’s easily deleted, after all.
