Hot For Teacher (34 page)

I take the next day off school and feign sick when Mom asks what’s wrong. I can’t be in the same place as Eli today. She leaves it at that, even though I think she knows there is more to it. I tell her to go when she considers calling in sick for her shift—which is a double.

Moping around the house, I listen to music, watch TV, and work on an assignment. Mom went to work, so there’s no one to talk to so I can take my mind off this clusterfuck of a situation.

I spend most of the afternoon watching reruns of
The Bachelor
. He turns out to be an ass who cheated on her one month after the engagement. Are
all
men assholes?

That night, I text Alice. It’s been a while and I feel bad. She might be able to talk some sense into me.

Me: Hey. Sorry I’ve been MIA since our text yesterday. Fucking hell Alice, you have no idea how fucked up all this is.

Alice: Why? What happened? He found out your age. So what? It’s not like you’re a minor. What kind of dude doesn’t want young, legal pussy?

I laugh in spite of myself.

Me: He’s my fucking teacher Al. He’s taking over Mr. Anderson because he’s sick. Oh, even worse? He’s Mr. Anderson’s fucking son.

I throw my body against the pillow on the bed as I’m getting angry again. Why the hell would this happen to me?

Alice: Well fuck me to the moon and back. I never saw that coming. What are you going to do?

Me: I have no idea. He makes me feel so alive. I don’t know what to do. Not that it matters. I need to forget anything ever happened.

I really wanted to say he made me feel
loved
.

Do I love him? I mean, we have been talking for a while and we have a connection like I’ve never felt. Or is that what you call lust?

Alice: Maybe talk to him again and let him know how you feel?

Maybe. No, he made it clear where we stood. All talking to him about it would do is make me look desperate.

***

The next morning, I wake early and set out for a run. It’s been a few weeks since I ran. Running clears my head and gives me time to think. I used to run a lot in the early days when Dad got posted overseas. I used to worry about him constantly. Every phone call would have me wondering if that was it. Every unexpected knock on the door... It’s still hard now, but a different kind of hard. I guess you could say I’m used to it. As used to it as one can actually get.

I’ve got The Avett Brothers blaring through the headphones and I’m doing my hardest to not think about anything other than my feet hitting the concrete. I run for about an hour, and by the end of it I’m about ready to collapse. My legs shake as I force them to carry me inside to the kitchen, where I grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

On the counter, I see Mom has left a note on the table to let me know she’s out for the day but doesn’t elaborate. It’s her day off today. I wonder where she has gone, because like me, she doesn’t have many friends here. Not that she’s told me about, anyway.

Since Mom has gone out, I decide to have one more day off. One more day to get my emotions in order before I have to face him. Around lunch, I can hear from phone ringing in the bedroom. I race up the stairs and launch for the phone before it goes to voicemail.

“Hello,” I say, breathless

“Jill?” I groan inwardly and sink my head into my pillows.

It’s Eli. Fuck. Why didn’t I check to see who was calling before I answered it?

“What do you want, Eli? It’s a bit inappropriate for my teacher to be calling me on my cell phone, don’t you think?” I reply, my voice snarky.

“You haven’t turned up to class for the last two days and I was worried about you.” Well, fuck me. Anyone would think he actually
cares
.

“Worried about your career is more like it,” I mutter. I know I’m being childish, but I don’t care. I mean, that’s the whole point, right? That I’m a child?

“Jill,” he sighs.

“Eli,” I deadpan.

“Listen, can I come over? We need to talk.”

“I thought you did enough talking yesterday,” I mumble. I’m not making this easy for him. But why the hell should I? My reaction to his words is the only thing I feel I have any control over right now.

“I’m coming over,” he growls. “I know your Mom is at work because I called her first.”

“You called my mother?” I reply, my voice shrill. “And she’s not at work. It’s her day off.”

“I told you, I was worried. I’m your teacher. She isn’t suspicious.” He pauses. “And she is at work. Why would she lie about that to me?”

Good point.
I guess she got called in at the last minute.

“Fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Come over. Don’t come over. I really don’t care anymore.”

I hang up and groan, covering my face with my hands. Why do I feel like he’s messing with me? He says he doesn’t want things to progress, so why the fuck visit me at my
house
? When I’m
alone
?

I don’t want him to see what a mess I am, so I pull on a light blue floral dress that sits just above the knees. It shows a bit of cleavage but it’s not tarty. It’s a flowing summer dress that borders on sexy.

The doorbell rings and my heart jumps into my throat. The thought of seeing him terrifies me…and excites me. I cringe as a tingle rushes between my legs. My body needs to get the message that nothing is going to happen—at least not until he’s gone.

I smirk at the thought.

Ok, let’s do this.

I answer the door. He’s standing there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He looks nervous and oh so fucking hot. A whiff of his spicy scent sends my body into overdrive. It reminds me of being cocooned in his warmth.

God, I miss that place.

“Hey,” I say, offering him a half-smile.

“Hey,” he mumbles, trying—unsuccessfully—not to stare at my cleavage.

I smirk as he flushes.

“Can I come in?”

I don’t move, forcing him to press against me as he squeezes inside.

“Through there,” I say, pointing to the living room. “Drink?” I ask.

He shakes his head no.

We sit in the living room opposite each other on the couch and Eli glances around, taking in my home. There are pictures of the family scattered all over the room.

Meeting his eyes, I watch as Eli clears his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, sending shivers down my spine. He takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to form the words he wants to say in his head first.

“Jill.” His voice is hoarse.

My heart races as he stares at me.  One minute I’m staring back at him and then the next, I’m straddling him on the sofa as he devours my mouth with his. We continue kissing, and I can feel his excitement pressing up against me.

His tongue reaches out to meet mine and he unzips the back of my dress and pulls it down so my breasts fall free.

“God, Jill. You’re naked under this,” he mutters, palming my breast.

I had purposely forgone underwear in case this happened. I’d
hoped
this would happen.

His hands on my breasts, he licks each nipple and sucks on one while pinching the other. The sensation sends sparks down to my core. My hands are pulling on his hair but pushing his face into my chest as I continue rocking hard on the bulge in his pants.

I can’t put into words how turned on I am.

Then out of nowhere he pushes me away. I stop abruptly, pulling my dress back over my shoulders. He lifts me so I’m sitting beside him and stands, refusing to make eye contact. He stalks toward the window, his back facing me as he curses under his breath.

I’m soaking and ready and I know he wants this as much as I do. I could
feel
it. How can he deny this feeling between us?

“Jill, we can’t do this.” He laughs suddenly. “My god, why is this so fucking
hard
? You make me so hard. I want you and I can’t stay away, but I have to. I fucking
have
to,” he growls.

Walking over to him, I’m half dressed. I press my front to his back and rest my head in between his shoulder blades. My arms cuddle his chest and I pull him hard into me. He groans as if I’m hurting him—hurting him like he’s hurting
me
.

Running my hands down the front of him, I undo his jeans and grab his cock. It hardens against my touch. He doesn’t push me away. I start pumping him softly before gripping tightly and speeding up.

He spins around and picks me up, carrying me over to the couch and placing me gently on my back. Pulling my dress to my waist, he stops at my entrance, his lips pressing against mine. I’m so fucking wet, and all I can think about is him inside me.

He pulls a condom from his pocket and rolls it on, his mouth finding mine. Just as our kisses starts to get heavy, he pushes in and I gasp as he fills me.

I groan as I feel the blood throb through his shaft. He is so big, one minute it’s too much and the next it’s not enough.
I need more.
I start rocking against him to match his rhythm. His slick cock is sliding back and forth and the friction feels amazing, even through the barrier of the condom. I need him closer and harder. I need all of him inside me. He’s holding back, afraid of hurting me, but I need it. I crave it.

“Please, harder,” I gasp.

He kisses my neck, his tongue rolling over my soft skin.

“I need to feel every last inch of you.”

He speeds up, fucking me hard and rough, and I
love
it. I never knew this could feel so damn good. He’s hitting my every spot, and without warning, my pussy contracts. I scream, clutching my arms around his neck. He stills as we both feel relief together.

I feel him tense before I see the look on his face. Realization seeps in and the reality of what just happened hits him hard. Even when we’re trying to stay away from each other, it’s apparent that we can’t. There is something there, something more powerful than the both of us.

“Fuck. Fuck, Jill, we shouldn’t have done that,” he swears, leaping off the couch and running a hand through his hair. I’m angry at his resistance, and turned on by the sight of his naked form in front of me. My body tingles.

“Why did you come here?” I respond angrily.
Jesus Christ
… trust him to turn something beautiful into something ugly.

Eli works on doing his pants back up and walks toward the way he came in. Opening the door, he stops but doesn’t turn around. “I’m sorry, Jill, but we shouldn’t be doing this. I think you need to transfer out of my class.”

He’s gone before I can respond. The minute the door closes, a loud sob wracks from my body and I throw myself on the floor. My heart has shattered and I’m angry. There is no fucking way I’m changing classes.

He
is all I care about.

I love him. Holy shit, I’m in love with him.

The reality of my realization hits me, and I crack. I’m a mess. I’m a fucking, sobbing mess.

The End

We hope you enjoyed the prequel to
Rewriting History
, a full-length novel releasing on the 7
th
November, 2015.

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Debating Number Ten

By

Amalie Silver