Teacher's Pet Complete Series (44 page)

“I love you,” he whispered.

The words zinged through me like bullets, and I bled sheer love for him in return. I tightened my grip and drove his cock deeper into my warm recesses. God, I loved this man!

I couldn’t hold back the climax that was building in me. I wanted to be selfless, make him come before I did, but then he reached up to my breasts and pinched my nipples. Then he arched his pelvis up in succession, plunging his dick in and out of my pussy, putting me over the top. My gasp quickly turned into short panting breaths, rapturous sighs, and deep-toned moans, like the sex would end in my death.

He was fucking me hard and stroking me so fast that it was too intense to for me to match his pace. My climax gushed in a rush of creamy juices running down his dick like sweet golden honey. And within that same moment, Simon’s body had jerked.

We were in synch and coming together.

“Fuck!” he cried out, trembling with release. I sat up and off him as quick as I could, watching him explode with molten lava from his volcano. It looked like his orgasm wouldn’t end. His cock jerked and jumped, spilling more and more cum. I clutched his cock in my hand and kept on stroking until his last drops were freed.

His head slammed back on the pillow. “I love you, Lynn. I love you so much,” he said through panted breaths.

Warm tears of joy fell to the sides of his face as I buried mine into his chest then moved to the side of his neck. My own tears started to flow. I whispered how much I loved him in his ear, over and over, until I felt he believed every word.

“I’ll never let you go,” he said. “I’ll never let you leave.”

I closed my eyes, breathing raggedly, trying to catch my escaping breaths; my eyes watered with joy. “I’ll never want to, ever again.”

My youngest son had flown back to New York like a bat out of hell, and I couldn’t blame him. He was escaping a torture of sorts, though the cluster was of his own creation. I hoped he was finding the salvation he needed for his quest to build his future back east, but I wasn’t too worried about his wellbeing. Dane was my son, after all, and Foster men prevailed under the most extreme set of circumstances.

Mere weeks had passed since the confrontation at the house, and Simon was up and moving about like the accident never happened. Caroline had stopped her incessant hovering over him and her insistence on treating him like an incapable child. I made it clear to her if this marriage were to work, she’d have to leave him alone. And about her indiscretions, well, I’d like to call it even, as one very public indiscretion of mine resulted in a son who was now running the eastern branch of Foster Capital Ventures.

As I stepped out from my car, my driver shut the door behind me. I straightened my coat and walked into the beautifully decorated hall. I was bemused with pleasure at the sight of my wife barking orders at the bustling staff readying the place for the wedding.

White flowers graced every row, scenting up the building with jasmines and magnolias. Filmy netting looped from the beams above, giving the place an otherworldly enchantment. The arch at the end of a long aisle was decorated with the more colorful and aromatic flowers. There stood Caroline chatting up the minister about all sorts of things, from where he should stand to how the vows would be handled—so controlling.

“Darling, I thought we agreed you’d let the wedding planner handle all of this.”

“Oh, she’s around here someplace. You’re early!” She kissed me on the cheek. “The wedding doesn’t start for another hour. Lynn’s some place getting ready, and I think Simon is with the rest of the groomsmen.”

“Wonderful. But I came here to see my wife.” I gathered her in my arms, as the minister turned away. “My boys are going to be just fine. Tell me that so I know it to be true.”

“Of course, Cornelius. Simon is doing excellently. The doctor says he sees no residual effects from the accident. All is well; you have no reason to worry.”

“And what about you?” I pulled her away and walked with her to our designated chairs. I’d be walking the bride down the aisle in her father’s absence, and Caroline and I had seats of honor. She settled next to me and held my hand as we chatted. “So have you finally accepted Lynn? She’s going to be around for a while, you know. No reason to keep working yourself into a tizzy.”

“Do I have a choice?” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I can admit I might have been a little wrong about her. She seems to be shaping up quite nicely.”

“I knew you’d see the light sooner or later.”

“Mhmm. Have you seen Selene? Did she ride with you? I couldn’t find her.”

“Still in the car, on the phone with Dane. They’ve grown rather chummy, those two.”

“Ugh! Well, she’s a charitable one, like her mother.”

I sighed. “Dane is family, Caroline, not a charity case.” She’d probably never fully accept my son because of the sordid history of his conception, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t try when she made me angry. Either way, she was stubborn as a mule.

I thought about Dane and how I failed him as a father, and the ways I was trying to make up for it. He had settled in at FVC in New York quite well in the last few weeks. I couldn’t be any prouder.

I turned around at a tap on the shoulder.

“Mr. Foster, there you are! The rest of the wedding party is lining up now! You need to get to the back so you can be ready to accept the bride.”

I squeezed Caroline’s fingers and followed the frazzled wedding planner while Caroline went back to helping the poor woman do her job.

When I reached the rest of the wedding party, my eyes landed on Lynn, beautifully dressed in her flowing white gown.

“I feel like a princess,” she told me, smiling brightly.

“And a very beautiful one at that. Is she ready?”

Lynn hurried away and returned to tell me she was. Everyone was standing on pins and needles. Mrs. Minnelli came out of the dressing room, squealing with excitement and looking nervous. “I just love weddings, don’t you?”

Simon stepped up next to me. His eyes landed on Lynn, and he beamed. “The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride.” Lynn shooed him away.

Simon said, “I know. Don’t worry. He’s still in the back. Mrs. Minnelli, you look stunning in that wedding dress.”

Elizabeth Minnelli blushed and grinned like a little girl. She had a tiara on her head. I felt pleased that Simon and Lynn had helped put this thing together and made the arrangements for her parents’ renewing their vows. They made a great team.

Within a short time, the wedding commenced, and I took my place next to Elizabeth Minnelli, marching her down the aisle to be with her groom. Once I handed her to Carl, I resumed my seat next to Caroline, who was crying and shooting less-than-subtle glances at Selene. “We still have a little while with that one; don’t worry,” I whispered, patting my wife’s hand reassuringly. Selene was barely in college. She had better not be thinking about marriage just yet, as she could barely keep herself away from the mall.

As the wedding bells dinged and the minister announced, “I now pronounce you man and wife!” the modest crowd cheerfully burst into applause. Everyone stood as the happy couple made their way down the aisle. Lynn and Simon were paired as maid of honor and best man, and they were the last ones in the procession just behind the bride and groom, but as they marched back up the aisle, Simon paused at the midway point. Caroline clutched at her chest as our son got down on one knee in front of everybody.

Lynn grabbed her face in surprise and looked to the right and left of her. At one end was the smiling, cheering wedding party lingering near the exit to see what happened next, and at the other end were her parents clinging to each other with excitement. I shook my head, smiling to myself. “He’s going to do it.”

“He isn’t… Is he?” Caroline said.

Selene stood, and her camera flashed just as Simon opened a red velvet case displaying a startling diamond had to be at least ten carats in size, cushion cut, custom designed.

“Lynora Minnelli, I can’t imagine a better future than one that includes you in my life. You’re my best friend, my confidante, and everything a man could ever hope for. We’ve been through a lot in the short time we’ve known each other, and frankly, I wouldn’t have wanted to go through any of it with anyone else but you. Will you please do me the honor of making me the happiest man on earth? Lynora Minnelli, the love of my life, will you please do me the honor of being my wife?”

Lynora looked as if she would pass out in shock; beads of sweat were forming at her brow and she couldn’t wipe away the smile that was plastered on her face. It went without saying she looked happy…so very happy indeed. A scream escaped her mouth, filled with exuberant joy. “Yes! Oh, yes!” is what we heard before the two tightly embraced.

Cheers rang out from the crowd. Her two best friends were the first ones to reach her—they ran into her to hug her so hard they all fell into the grass, laughing hysterically.

“Well, this has been entertaining,” I said softly to myself. “Love is a many splendored thing. I guess you’re going to have another wedding to plan, my dear.”

“Yes, it looks that way, doesn’t it?” Caroline said, with a genuine smile.

I woke up in the Ritz-Carlton, New Orleans, next to an exotic woman with an amber complexion and a wavy-haired brunette sprawled across the king-sized bed. The room smelled like booze, pussy, and cheap perfume. I stumbled out of the snowy tangle of Egyptian cotton sheets, zigzagging across a wasteland of tumbled furniture and empty liquor bottles to a marble-tiled bathroom.

I was wondering who the fuck were the bitches in the bed, and what the hell had happened last night, as I rested my hands on the cobalt bathroom countertop and splashed water on my face. “What have you been up to, Dane?” I asked my red-eyed reflection. Humming a catchy tune to myself, I assessed the damage. I still had all my teeth, all my black, wavy hair, no broken bones. My cock still stood up, in good working condition. Colorful Mardi Gras beads hung from my neck, and I held them up to my bleary-eyed gaze.

Oh yeah, I remembered. An old friend had invited me to the South for a night of debauchery and excess. Now it was back to business. I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a plush towel. The first thing I had to do was clear the room.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies.” I clapped loudly to wake them. Two startled faces popped up from the covers. I threw open the opaque blinds and watched them cringe at the light like the cum-sucking night creatures they were.

A tangled-up yellow silk dress on the back of a chair and a lone high heel in the window ledge were collected and dumped unceremoniously on the bed with them. “Get your things,” I ordered. There was a purse I found under the loveseat. When I picked it up, several vials of white powder fell out and rolled across the floor. I made a tsking sound through my teeth and deposited the drugs back in the bag. I shoved it at one of them. “It’s time,” I said with a not-so-patient smile.

“Time for what?” the golden beauty asked. I held up a silencing hand while I placed my smart phone to my ear and spoke quietly into the receiver. Within minutes, there was a discreet knock at the door.

“Time for you to leave,” I informed the clueless pair. “Party’s over.” I let in Rodger, the newly hired head of my personal security, and a barrage of his guys followed in. The women were hurriedly escorted out, leaving me to the privacy of getting ready for the morning. While I did, the security personnel swept the suite for anything of legal embarrassment, like more drugs, and they’d already checked the ladies’ phones—couldn’t have a salacious video finding its way to TMZ. When they were satisfied the area was clean, Rodger reported back to me with the all-clear.

“Send in my assistant,” I requested.

Cedric Gervais materialized. He was a medium-height man with curly black hair and a mustache. He wore oversized tortoiseshell glasses and had a perpetually flat affect—very New York, very hipster. He made a show of looking at his timepiece and said, “It’s 6 a.m., sir. You’re already late to take over the world…did I say that right?”

“Good morning to you, too, Gervais. Excellent delivery—exactly as I taught you,” I replied brightly.

“I have
got
to get used to your odd sense of decorum. All right, we’ve got two hours till our flight to Dubai, but there’s heavy traffic. We need to make our way to the airport.” He got straight to work. He was new, too.