Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Innocent, but not too innocent. She knows what she’s saying, and she’s waiting for me to respond.
“I could give you that discipline.” I don’t look away as I say the words. There’s no uncertainty in my voice. If she wants this, I will give it to her.
She nods. “Can we start right now?”
All I can think about is that dark hair twisted into my fingers. Pushing her down to her knees. Listening to her plead for what I’m going to give her.
“Not now,” I tell her. “My place, tomorrow afternoon. I’ll make you dinner.”
Three
Keryn
Borrowing one of Cyn’s dresses is one of the wilder things I’ve done in my life.
The little floaty skirt feels like it’s going to flash everything if the wind blows just a little harder. And I’m certain my boobs are going to slip out of the bodice. Apparently, wearing a bra with this thing is simply not done.
Well, it is today.
I wouldn’t let her talk me out of that. In the end we compromised on a strapless bra.
As I step off the bus, I’m sure the driver is judging me, and I don’t blame her. She probably thinks I’m a hooker. I try to smile at her, but she just frowns.
And looking around, I can see why.
I do not belong here.
The only glimpses of the houses I get is between tall trees and over high walls. Security fences sparsely line the street, maybe a half dozen residences in a space as large as my entire block. Once the bus pulls away, it’s so quiet I can actually hear a bird twittering an evening call somewhere nearby.
A warm breeze gently tousles my perfectly-styled hair, a gift from my best friend and room mate. Despite my insistence that this is just a meeting to discuss my grades, we both know it’s more. I still can’t dismiss the little voice in the back of my head that says I’m wrong. That he wasn’t looking at me the way I wanted him to. That I can’t ever hope for someone who’ll take me the way I want to be taken. That life simply won’t ever give me that chance.
But even so, Keryn has helped me prepare all morning, doing hair, makeup and this admittedly ridiculous outfit.
“You have a banging body, Keryn. You need to realize that. Honestly, if I was into girls… This guy will be putty in your hands.”
“You told me he was gay.”
“Well, it looks like I was wrong, doesn’t it? Just not into me, that’s cool. You like him?”
“He’s a teacher.”
“But do you like him?”
I didn’t exactly answer that.
Because like isn’t exactly the right word. Infatuation, maybe. Desperate need, for sure. I can’t get him off my mind? Yes.
Like? The jury is out on that one.
What’s a teacher doing living in a street like this anyway? How does he make enough for this? And he’s not even a regular teacher. He didn’t have an office, which means he doesn’t work at the college, he’s just a stand-in. So what? He robs banks in his time off or something?
My phone buzzes and I drag it out as I walk, looking for the right house. Max offered to pick me up from home and bring me here, but I told him a definite no. The last thing I needed was Cyn making comments to him as he drove me away.
It’s not difficult to find though. All the entry gates have metal signs with carefully-etched numbers beneath security panels with buzzers and numeric code locks. I stop at the gate to number 4 and read the message on my cell.
Cyn: If you’re back early, don’t worry if I’m not here. I’m dropping off another package for Brandon.
I roll my eyes as I text back.
Me: Wish you wouldn’t keep doing that. I don’t want to visit you in jail. Or end up in the cell next door.
Cyn: LOL. It’s just weed. And it helps pay my half of the rent. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!
I can’t think of a reply for that, so I don’t bother. Her half of the rent? Her family is minted, but she insists that she can do everything herself. I admire her independence but not the way she chooses to make her money.
Tucking the phone back in my purse, I step up to the buzzer on the gatepost. As I’m reaching for it, the gates click, then whir as they start to open. Neat. And a little creepy. I look around for a security camera to wave to, but it must be well hidden because I can’t see one.
The gravel drive curves around to the left, passing between tall pine trees before switching direction and climbing a short way to the right. I follow it in a kind of daze, wondering just how much houses in this neighborhood actually cost, before it widens out into an open area, bordered by grass and leading up to the front door.