Schooled Read Free Page B

motion. He used his hands to move my hips in a way that he wanted them to move. My body melted and melded into his. I lost control of my senses and actions, letting him control my movements, as well as my desires. This had to be his ammo. These moves, this seduction, had to be his weapon of choice. I couldn’t allow my will to cave, for a student to do this to me. But my God, it felt so good, so right. It had been so long, so frustratingly long. I felt my will faltering, my decisions wavering. His cock began to enlarge against me, finding its way to my ass. Only my linen skirt and thong and his loose-fitting athletic shorts stood between his hardening shaft and the crack of my butt. I could feel its size. Oh God.
    “You’re so sexy Janelle.” His raspy whisper was right in my ear, making me shiver and long for more. He just called me Janelle. Oh shit. This was getting out of hand. I had to stop this. Please give me strength to stop this man. No, to stop myself. But instead of stopping it, I heard myself whimper, a sound of acquiescence. A sound of my will failing. I felt Briggs’ tongue slowly travel from the base of my neck to the tip of my earlobe. He started to turn my body to face him. I moaned and succumbed to him, facing him. His blue eyes were smoldering with the most passionate look of desire, a look I had never seen on a man’s face before. Never. I had to have him. I leaned in to him; our lips met. His tongue found mine, and my knees weakened. I wanted to have him, devour him, feel him. I needed him. I swallowed his moan and returned my own. His hands ran down my back, pulling me closer into him, onto him. I needed this man. I had to—
    The song ended, and the lights flooded the bar.
    It was the last song of the night. I’d missed the “last call” when I was in the bathroom. Briggs looked at me and my well-overdue emotional crumbling hit. My eyes welled with tears as I ran from the bar to my car, a car that I clearly couldn’t drive. I stood fumbling for my keys, not seeing through the tears that flooded my eyes and streaked my face. What had my life become? I felt him come up behind me, turning me slowly around. He kissed my forehead and pulled my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry Miss Garrity. I was out of line. I had no right--”
    I had to stop him. This wasn’t his fault. I couldn’t allow him to feel guilt or accept any blame. This was my problem, my shit to deal with. “Briggs stop. I’m the one who’s sorry. Before you got here tonight, I was drowning myself in Tequila.” I paused, afraid to go on, but I couldn’t let him feel guilt. This wasn’t his problem. I took a deep breath and said, “I went home earlier tonight and walked in on my husband fucking his young, hot, slutty bitch of a secretary in our bed.” His face filled with sadness. He reached for me; I moved out of his reach, shaking my head. “What happened here was just stupid and…and…Dammit! I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” I hated the sympathy, pity, and sadness on his face.
    Students weren’t supposed to feel sorry for teachers. Teachers didn’t confide in students. Hell, husbands weren’t supposed to bang their secretaries. This whole night was a clusterfuck of “not supposed tos.” I finally managed to put my key in the door. Briggs moved my hand, removing the key from the lock, putting my keys in his pocket.
    “Pancakes,” he said. I must have looked at him with a baffled look, because he repeated himself. “Pancakes. I like to end drunken nights with pancakes.” He looked down at his phone, checking the time. “When I was little and we didn’t have much money, my mom would make pancakes, a ton of them. Pancakes always made me feel better.” He took me by the hand, led me to his car, and opened the door as I got in. “I think we need chocolate chip pancakes.” I stared at him in awe. He wasn’t trying to cheer me up or get into my pants. He merely wanted to take me