Page 92 of Sinful Desires

Anger coursed through me as it worked to consume me. “Am I going to have to beat your ass again?” I growled, this time aiming my movements toward her instead.

Her smug grin faltered when she realized I wasn’t bluffing.

“I agreed to stay away from them as long as you keep them away from me,” I explained. “There’s nothing more for me to say.”

The three of them exchanged looks before Madison and Paisley moved out of my way. Without hesitation, I started making my way to the main building, praying to someone that I wasn’t late.

Readjusting my bag over my shoulder, I slipped through the front doors and strode over to the classroom I needed to be in.

As soon as I entered, the first thing I noticed was how empty the classroom was. Was I the only one lucky enough to get detention today? Oh right, Foster got away with everything. At least he wouldn’t be here to piss me off.

“You’re late,” he said from behind his desk.

I placed my bag on the desk closest to the podium and turned to face him. “I got held up,” I said dryly. “Now what do you want me to do?”

“Grab the things needed for my class and come here.” He motioned to the chair against the smartboard. “This will count as a tutoring session.” Excitement filtered through me. I was probably going to get in trouble for this, but the look on his face would be worth it.

Rummaging through my bag, I retrieved the things I’d be needing like he asked and moved to the front of the room where I pushed the chair in front of his desk and placed my things on top of his desk.

Dropping down into my seat, I took a pencil between my fingers and twirled it around. My gaze snagged on his wedding ring before I refocused my attention back to the task at hand.

“So, professor, where do we start?” I smirked, sticking the end of the pencil in my lips as I leaned back in my chair.

“I’m not your professor,” he remarked bitterly, though his voice cracked a little bit as he said it. “Have you started on Friday’s homework?”

No. I’ve kind of been rotting away in a goddamn dungeon all night after being tortured, fingerbanged, and fucked with a knife.

Clearing my throat, I shook my head. “I haven’t had the chance.”

His jaw ticked as he gave me a look of disapproval. If he had any idea about what I’ve been going through, he wouldn’t be so quick to judge me.

“I need you to take this seriously.”

“I am. It’s just been a rough week,” I defended. He saw what I looked like yesterday and he’d seen Foster harass me and Gia. He had to have known something wasn’t right.

“Very well. Shall we get started then?”

I answered by digging out my binder and retrieving the weekly history packet he enjoyed giving us. The one that was eating at my entire grade in here. I smoothed it out on the desk and placed my pencil beside it.

Scooting closer, his eyebrows drew together as he grabbed it. “What is it about history that you struggle with the most?”

“Remembering,” I admitted. “I suck at dates, deaths, names, everything.”

While his attention was focused on my packet, I took the liberty of checking him out. Mr. Monroe was incredibly sexy. Especially the fact that he was my teacher. I’d never fucked a teacher before and it was on my bucket list.

“I can’t teach you to remember,” he informed, bringing his gaze back to mine.

A small breath fluttered past my lips as his eyes pierced through me. He was twenty times more attractive up close. Shifting in my seat, I rubbed my thighs together.

“Well, obviously.”

“How do you feel about flashcards?”

I snorted a laugh, but the stern look he was sporting made it obvious that he wasn’t joking. “Aren’t they meant for little kids?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, Aspen. Anyone can use flashcards.” The way he was speaking to me had me grinding my teeth. He was treating me like a little kid.

Fine. Let’s see how much he views me as a kid after this.