Really, Mateo?
I can’t believe he entrusted me with his bratty teenage daughter.
Fuck my life.
Reluctantly, I handed her phone back after dinner and she’s been glued to it ever since. It’s a shame she’s not nicer. I spend a lot of time out here in the middle of nowhere at my cabin. Alone. For a second there, I actually looked forward to having someone sharing my space, dinners, and conversations. When I’d seen her, I even allowed the basest male part of me to admire how goddamn beautiful she is and appreciate the fact I’d get to look at her all the damn time.
But then she opened her mouth.
Stuck her nose in the air and acted like one of the brats at school.
A harsh reminder, but one I clearly needed so I wouldn’t lust over my friend’s hottie daughter. As though my eyes have a mind of their own, they stray from the news on the television over to her bare legs from her knees to her thighs. Smooth, golden light brown skin. She’s kicked off her shoes and has her legs tucked under her as her fingers fly over her phone. I’m sure she’s talking all kinds of shit about me to her friends.
“It’s cold,” she says with a pout without looking up.
“You’re not in Florida anymore, Dorothy.”
She darts her dark brown eyes my way long enough to give me a condescending look I’m used to from my students before she lets out an obnoxious sigh and starts texting again. I stifle a frustrated groan and rise from my recliner. I find a worn quilt from a closet and toss it at her.
“It’s getting late. Do you want to shower now or in the morning before school?” I ask as I watch her situate herself under the blanket.
“Tomorrow.”
She smiles at her phone and it lights up her features. I’d like to see her do that more often. Not that fake shit she’s dazzled me with tonight.
I reach for the remote and turn off the television. While she texts, I rummage through my messenger bag and retrieve the schedule I printed up for her once I had her transfer papers from her other school. I set the paper on the coffee table and cross my arms over my chest.
“Your schedule,” I say, a bite of irritation in my voice.
When she continues to ignore me, I yank the phone from her grip and pocket it once again.
“Hey!” she yells, her nostrils flaring in fury as she glares up at me. “What’s your problem?”
“Right now? You. You’re rude as hell. I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the fact my friend raised such a brat,” I snap, completely out of character for me. Normally, I’m cool when the kids try to rile me up.
But with her?
She pisses me off.
“Who do you think I learned it from?” she bites back. The venom is missing, though, and for a moment she looks as though she might cry.
My anger is immediately snuffed out. I sit on the coffee table and hand the paper to her. “I just want you to be prepared tomorrow. It’s a big school and you’re starting in the middle of the year.”
She swallows and gives me a curt nod before taking the paper. “I hate math.”
“You’re good at math,” I challenge. “Straight As until this past semester. You dropped to a C by the end of the term. But typically you’re an excellent student in math.”
“Stalker much?” She doesn’t look up at me and bites on her lip as she studies the schedule. “What’s the last class?”
“Office admin assistant. Basically you’ll help the secretary, the guidance counselor, and myself. Run notes to students and teachers. File stuff. Things like that.”
“Boring,” she grumbles.
“It was that or band.” I arch a playful brow at her.
Her lips quirk up on one side and she regards me with a half-friendly smile. “This will do just fine. But AP pre-calculus? Really?”
“When I spoke to your guidance counselor at your old school, she assured me you were more than capable. You’ll do fine. Just try not to fall in love with Coach Long. It’s a problem.” I stifle a chuckle because Coach Long is a bear and it bothers him that half the student body and teachers follow him around like lost puppies.
“Don’t worry. I’m not into old geezers.” She purses her lips and holds out her palm. “Can I have my phone back now?”
I pull it from my pocket and relinquish it once more. “I’m lenient here at the house, but you can’t have your phone in class. Make sure it stays put away.” My tone is gruff because I can’t stop staring at her mouth. The more she tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth or wets it with her pink tongue, the more inappropriate my thoughts get. “I’m going to grab some stuff from my room and then you can head that way.”
Not waiting for an answer, I stride from my living room into my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and run my fingers through my hair. My dick is at half-mast and irritation flits through me. I’ll have to call up one of my buddies and see if they want to hit the bar or something so I can get my dick wet. I’ve gone far too long without a piece of ass and if I go much longer, I’ll be whacking off to images of an ass I can’t have. My cock twitches in my pants and I groan. Just the thought of her ass has heat burning through me.
She’s Mateo’s little girl.
As if doused in cold water, my dick softens.
I cannot allow myself to even go there. Thoughts are dangerous because thoughts become actions. From here on out, I’ll be strictly professional. I have to be.
The pain.
Oh God, the pain.
They’re coming for me. I can hear their voices. The popping of their weapons. Holy shit, I’m going to die. This fucking sucks.
Explosions and gunfire thunder in my head.
Pain assaults me from every nerve ending.
I curl up in the dirt and attempt to protect my organs.
Someone grabs me and starts dragging, but I scream and flail.
“I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you.”
I wake up in a cold sweat in the dark. I’m disoriented and not sure where I’m at. The bullets are no longer whizzing past me. I’m no longer running for my life.
A shudder ripples through me and I let out a hiss of terror when a hand grabs mine.
“Shhh,” she murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
I blink in the darkness and it takes me a moment to realize I’m at home in my living room. The soothing voice that belongs to the hand clutching mine is her.
“Elma,” I croak.
I relax against the pillows but don’t let go of her hand. The horror is still attacking my nervous system. Selfishly, I hold onto her comforting grip for a moment longer.
“You had a nightmare.” Her voice is soft and soothing as she runs her thumb along the back of my hand. “Everything is fine.”
I stiffen when her other hand rests against my chest that’s soaked my shirt with sweat. I’m sure she can feel the way my heart is thundering beneath her fingertips. Neither of us says anything. When my anxiety lessens and I’m not on the edge any longer, she stands and releases my hand. The comforting aura I was just blanketed in gets ripped off of me and I reach for her.
My palm curls around her thigh. Her bare thigh. She lets out a shocked gasp and my cock lurches to life. Blood rushes through me, chasing away the chilling fright that haunts me more often than not.
Take your hand off her.
A groan escapes me and I utter out my words. “Thank you.”
I let her go.
And fuck if it doesn’t take everything in me not to grab her again.
She walks away from me and soon the bedroom door closes with a soft click. My cock is hard and aching in my sweatpants. I need to come so I’ll relax and go the fuck to sleep. I’m too wound up and having a drop dead, gorgeous temptation in my house doesn’t help at all.
I slide my palm beneath the band of my sweats and close it around my throbbing dick. It’s hot and hard as hell in my grip. I try to think up images of the new guidance counselor, because at least she’s nearer to my age. Blond hair. Big tits. Plump lips.
I yank at my cock brutally, forcing myself to think of Kerry.
But then, like the sun parting through clouds, I see her.
Elma.
My mind roams to the way she sprawled out on the couch earlier with her bare thighs on display. I’d briefly imagined what her flesh would look like there if I sucked her skin. Purple and bruised, no doubt.
I groan at the thought of parting her sweet thighs and inhaling what’s between them.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
So close.
Don’t be a pervert, man.
Kerry.
Blonde. Big tits.
Nope.
I see brown eyes and nearly black hair in my fantasy. Slender fingers touching herself over her shorts. The image is too much and I explode. Cum jets out, hot and furious, soaking the bottom of my shirt. I lie there a moment, my chest rising and falling in rapid succession as I try to sort out what the fuck just happened.
I am a pervert.
I just jerked off to thoughts of a damn teenager. A student. Someone I’m in charge of taking care of.
Angrily, I yank off my soiled shirt and use it to clean up my mess. Once I’m relaxed again, I try to formulate a plan.
And with her, I’m going to need a big-ass plan.
Professional.
I need to be professional.
I’m the goddamn adult here after all.
Using techniques my therapist taught me for my panic attacks, I breathe in deeply and exhale slowly. I focus on my calm place. The lake. The birds. The wind whistling through the trees.
I close my eyes and drift off.
Splashing right there in the middle of my happy place in a red bikini is her. A sacred place in the back of my mind has now been contaminated. And stupid fucking me does nothing but stare.
I’m so screwed.