Home > The Teacher of Nothing(2)

The Teacher of Nothing(2)
Author: K. Webster

“Whatever,” he grumbles as he stands. “Peace out, losers.”

This earns him some nervous laughter from his buddies but is silenced when I stare each of them down. Levi storms down the aisle, bulldozing over backpacks and knocking into desks, making sure to display how pissed off he is about his marching orders. When he shoves Willa’s test off her desk, sending the stapled papers fluttering to the ground, I have to grip onto the arms of my chair to keep from charging after him.

Willa wilts and frowns at her papers on the floor. She presses her sexy lips together, stifling a groan of irritation. I sear my gaze into her, watching her body move as it slides out of her chair.

She’s not short, but she’s not tall either.

Average height, average build, average looks.

There’s nothing about her that should have me obsessing like I do. But I’m here, aching to bury my face in her dark brown hair so I can inhale her scent. I crave to cradle her soft jawline and taste her sweet lips.

I want her.

I just fucking want her.

With every cell in my body.

Today, like any other day, she’s wearing something plain. A fitted pair of jeans, a scuffed-up pair of black Converse, and a gray knitted sweater. On any other person, it would make them blend in. On her, she somehow makes it sexy.

Someone fucking shoot me now.

Take me out of my misery.

As much as I want to strip this girl, bend her over her desk, and fuck her into tomorrow, I can’t. I refuse to. I absolutely won’t.

She quickly grabs the papers up and gathers them into her small hands. I expect her to sit back down, but her eyes have found me.

What is it that she sees?

Her perverted, evil teacher salivating over her every move?

I focus on her eyes, careful not to look anywhere else that might give away my ravenous need for her.

“Miss Reyes,” I rumble, hating how hoarse the sound is to my own ears. “Did you need help?”

Her cheeks blaze red-hot and she gives a quick shake of her head. “N-No. I just…I’m through with my test.” She extends her arm out over my desk, offering me the pile of papers in her hand, her sugary scent enveloping me and making my mouth water.

It would be so easy to take hold of her dainty wrist and drag her over the surface into my lap. Would she let me hold her? Would she rub her ass against my needy cock until I came in my pants?

“So soon?” I arch a brow at her, not making any moves to reach for the papers because I might grab her instead. “Did you rush through it?”

I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but it comes naturally to me.

Her nostrils flare and a flicker of irritation dances over her features. “I didn’t rush through it. It was just easy.”

All the blood in my body seems to drain to my cock, filling it and making it thicken impossibly more. That tiny bite of sass in her voice only manages to send me spiraling further into the madness that is her. It’s an unexpected layer. Another piece of her being revealed to me.

I need to see it all.

“Easy?” I purr, my voice low enough that only she can hear. “Awfully confident, Miss Reyes.”

She fidgets, shifting her weight from foot to foot. The crimson on her cheeks only seems to grow more saturated as the seconds tick by with her on display in front of my desk. “Easy A,” she says in a breathless, unsure voice, though it’s still a taunt.

“Hmm.” I carefully take the papers and pluck them from her hold. “Perhaps I’m not challenging you enough.”

Her lashes bat against the apples of her cheeks quickly, as though she can’t seem to make sense of my words.

Yes, sweet thing, I am absolutely flirting with you.

“I’m not insulting your instruction,” she says quickly, dipping her gaze to my desk. “I just don’t find statistics very hard.”

If she were mine, I’d tell her to get on her hands and knees so she could crawl around the back side of my desk and find something else instead that’s very hard.

She’s not mine.

She will never be mine.

Because I am nothing like my father. I won’t pluck an innocent girl out of her world and turn her into the queen of mine. My family is still dealing with the ripple effects from when Dad did the very same thing.

And not with just any girl.

My high school girlfriend.

Sourness settles in my gut and I don’t want Willa to see the hatred that lives inside me. Hatred for Nathan Park, my father.

“Sit down, Miss Reyes. You’re distracting the class.”

Her entire body flinches, which is a kick to the nuts. I don’t like being the one to make her wither. It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize and attempt more of this innocent flirting, but she’s already walking away.

So I don’t stare at her cute ass and land my own ass in trouble, I pick up my phone to see what message I missed earlier. It’s from my brother Hugo.

Hugo: Spencer has a D in chem. Can you go sprinkle some Park magic on your girlfriend so she’ll up his grade?

Me: I don’t have Park magic, remember? I’m the family prick. And Lisa’s not my girlfriend.

I dated Lisa Collins for like a fucking second. She was needy and kind of bossy. As nice as she was to look at, we had zero chemistry. No pun intended.

Hugo: Fine. I’ll ask the golden child. Dempsey owes me a couple of favors…

I nearly groan at his suggestion.

Me: You’re the golden child, dumbass. He’s the black sheep. Our baby brother is in enough trouble as is. Don’t encourage him into bribery or prostitution too.

Hugo: Like I’d let him go to prison. He’s too pretty for that shit.

I smother a laugh.

Me: How about I find Spence and put the fear of God in him to bring up his grade? He listens to me better than he does you.

Hugo: That works. I owe you a beer. Friday?

Me: We could always get shitfaced before Sunday dinner with Dad…

Hugo: Dinner and a show? Count me in.

Since I’m done ribbing Hugo, I set my phone down and pick up Willa’s test. Even her handwriting is sexy. All cutesy swirls and curves. I trace her name, written in black ink, with my finger, memorizing the feel of it.

As much as I want her to draw her name with the tip of her tongue all over my body, I know I have to quit that line of thinking. I’ve worked too fucking hard my entire life to be everything Dad is not. I’ll be damned if I let a sweet girl like Willa Reyes transform me into that motherfucker.

Not happening.

Not now. Not ever.

The seconds crawl toward the end of the hour. It’s agony forcing myself to look at anything but her. Like an alcoholic desperate for a drink, my hands tremble and the urge overwhelms me.

Just one look won’t hurt.

A little taste to get me through.

As soon as I give myself permission, my eyes are on her pouty pink lips, learning, memorizing, studying.

I need a distraction.

And soon.

Or else I’ll do a lot more than just look at Willa.

A helluva lot more.

 

 

Willa

Why does time fly when you don’t want it to?

It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since my…encounter with Mr. Park and it’s about to happen again. Except, this time, I have to live with the humiliation of knowing there’s nothing between us.

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