I miss the fourth of July party and I’m not super sad about it, to be honest. Rose’s Grandparents are the ones I’m most miffed about not seeing.

I’ve got bigger things happening than any party, though. I spend a full week at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota with my mom, sleeping in a chair at her bedside in between treatments for her skin cancer at one of the top facilities in the nation.

I watch her sleep, and hold her hand for a few minutes. It’s scary to see the woman who raised you so weak. She’s strong though, and I know she’ll pull through. Her hair is brown with shades of grey, thicker than you’d think it would be for someone who has been through hell and back the past year.

I sit back down, turn on the Price is Right, and can’t help but smile. Those were the best times growing up--when my mom let me play hookie and we’d stay home all day, cooking and watching a daytime show or two. She was super strict except for those days when she’d allow me to let loose purposely, feeding me cookie dough from the batter, then sending me outside to play with the neighborhood kids.

I ended up at Harvard, so she didn’t do that bad a job, obviously.

Every day of my life, my mom has overwhelmed me with so much love, and never asked me for anything in return. Even when I told her I was coming back to Blackwell to be here while she went through her treatment, her response was, “Are you sure, honey? Don’t you have another adventure you want to go on?”

I shake my head and smile, looking at her sleeping peacefully, hooked up to the IV.

My phone buzzes and I glance at it. When I see Rose’s name, I unlock my phone and check the text immediately.

Rose: Hey. How are you? How’s your Mom?

I swallow. Despite all my best efforts to keep Rose at arm’s length, she’s wiggled her way into my personal life. When a simple ‘how are you’ text has a chill running down my spine, I know I’m fucked. Although a fun, casual thing for the summer is exactly what I needed, there’s a part of me wanting something more from her. A big part. What else can she give though? She’s only a senior in college.

I fire a veiled text back to her.

Cole: Good and good

Back in Boston, it was easy not to get attached to girls. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s a Blackwell girl that’s drawing me in. Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s Rose. But I find myself having to fight the urges to think about the possibility of a future with her, since I know that’s not what she wants.

My mom stirs. “Honey, oh honey. No, you stay here, I’ll pick up Cole from Kindergarten.”

“Mom,” I push her shoulder gently. “Wake up.”

When she comes to her eyes are wide. “Oh my. Where am I?”

“You’re at the Mayo Clinic, Mom. How do you feel? Why were you talking about picking me up from Kindergarten?”

She smiles a silly grin. “I was just thinking about when your father was sick, and I did everything for him.”

I sniffle a bit. “You did?”

“He never let me do things for him until he was sick. He was always so independent. The man didn’t get it. I just liked doing everything for him. Made me feel good.”

My mind flashes to Rose, and how she loves doing things at my beck and call.

“I see,” I simply nod.

There’s a knock at the door. “May I come in?”

I clear my throat. “Yes, you may.”

The doctor walks in with a big clipboard.

“Mrs. Hanks, we’ve got some great news.” he says, smiling “This is where your tough spirit pays off. The treatments have worked, and you’re going to be fine.”

I lean over the bed and hug my mom hard.

“Cole,” she smiles, tears in her eyes. “Thanks for being there for me this year. I know I told you not to move to Blackwell and that means a lot you still did. I think you gave me the strength to fight this.”

The doctor makes a note on the clipboard and then awkwardly backs out of the room in the midst of this mother-son moment.

“Don’t think like that, Mom,” I say. “I came to Blackwell for a lot of reasons. Yes, you were a very big one. But I can see myself staying there for a long time now.”

She releases me from the hug, wipes the tears from her eyes, and grips my shoulder.

“Coley, I know you aren’t exactly the type of man who fits well in a small town. You’ve got an active mind. And please, I’m not asking, you, I’m telling you: don’t stay here for me. Your sister is moving back soon, and she’ll be living with me. If you’re worried about me being lonely, just stop that train of thought right there. I’ll manage. You should move where you want to.”

A bowling ball of anxiety clumps in my stomach. I can’t admit to my Mom the real reason I’m thinking about staying in Blackwell. Or at least, the reason I can’t picture living anywhere but here at the moment.

What would my mom think if she knew I was dating one of my students?

“Coley, are you listening to me? You can move wherever you want.”

I swallow hard and stare at her for a moment. “I know,” I manage to croak.

But for the first time in a long fucking time there’s nowhere I’d rather be living than this stupid, silly small town.

Because the two women I love most in the world live here, and I’d be a fool to leave them.

* * *

The summer days pass and seem to speed up as midterms come and go. I spend a ton of time in the office grading and meeting with students.

Rose and I settle into some semblance of a routine, as odd as it is keeping everything on the down-low.

Not that this wouldn’t be a hot relationship if we had just met each other at the bar some night as two strangers. But I have to admit, the fact that she’s my student makes it ten times hotter. Seeing her in class. Noticing the looks the guys give her. And all the while knowing I’m the one she’ll be fucking after class.

One hot Thursday night in the Blackwell heat of early August, we sit on my porch after dinner enjoying a few cold drinks.

We’re both naked from the waist up. Did I mention it’s hot as hell?

Oh, and there’s the fact that I could stare at Rose like this all day. And do.

She rocks back and forth ever so slightly in the hammock. All she’s wearing is a cowboy hat--my cowboy hat--denim short shorts, and boots.

She’s gone full on hot cowgirl today.

It’s a far cry from the punk crop top she wore the first weekend I took her with me to the cabin, but I’ve since realized Rose has a variety of identities, and she blends into them all, like a chameleon. I’m usually an expert at figuring out just what makes a person tick. With most people, I can do it within a few minutes of meeting them. With Rose, it’s different. I know she had this crazy idea to hook up with me this summer. But I don’t think she’s that crazy. Hell, she’s saner than half of Blackwell.

Then again, that isn’t saying too much. This town is fucking crazy.

“This summer has just flown by,” she says as she rocks back and forth gently on the hammock, bottle of beer in hand. I chuckle at how general her statement is. It makes me wonder if she is guarding something.

“Yeah,” I agree nonchalantly. “I mean, final exams are next week. Then the fall semester students start coming back.”

“It’s almost been two months,” she emphasizes, and we both feel the unspoken tension of those words. This relationship had an expiration date when it started, and in a week, we’ll be right around the cutoff we’d said at the beginning, though we haven’t spoken about it much lately. We’ve just been enjoying the ride.

“How do you feel about your training?” I smirk, trying to keep the conversation light. “Have you filled up the pages of your notebook yet?”

She rolls her eyes, and they glisten a little in the moonlight. “I’ve written down some thoughts, but not as much as thought I would. I’ve been too busy...you know.”

“I don’t know. Enlighten me. Too busy what?”

“Been too busy fucking you.”

My dick twitches just hearing Rose say the word ‘fucking.’

She smiles and stands up. “I’m done with my beer. I’m going to switch to something harder.”

“I can help you out with that,” I snap back with a cocky smirk. She giggles. “Can you?”

“Yeah.” I grab a bottle of whisky from the table and put it square between my legs on my chair. “This is the hard stuff.”

“Thanks,” she says flirtily, and her knuckles graze my cock as she grabs the bottle of Jack. She examines the bottle. “Yeah. 90 proof. This is the hard stuff I like.”

She runs into the house and comes back out with a couple of tumbler glasses. She pours a healthy amount into each glass and hands one to me.

“Cheers, Cole. To whatever the fuck this summer has been for us. I don’t even fucking know how to define you and me, to be honest. But I have to admit I like us.”

We clink glasses and I swallow the hard stuff down, but a word that she just said lingers in my mind. Us.

“It’s been a fun summer,” I nod, and now I’m the one speaking in over-generalities. From my seated position, I reach up to where she’s standing and pull her down for a kiss on the lips.

“You taste like whisky,” she says when our lips separate.

“Nah. That’s just you,” I wink.

She rolls her eyes and sits back down in the hammock. She takes a noticeably big pull of her drink, turns to look out at the stars over the farmland, and takes a big breath.

“Cole,” she says without turning toward me. “Can I ask you a question?”

My heart speeds up. I’m not the kind of guy who likes questions that need to be prefaced with ‘can I ask you a question.’ She’s clearly got something on her mind.

“What is it?” I growl.

She turns her head back to me, her creamy white skin showing in light of the half moon. Her nipples are hard.

“How do you see me?” she asks. Her eyes search my face for an answer.

Now I’m the one taking an extra long pull on my drink.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, exactly,” I retort.

“I mean, when you look at me, what do you see? Do you see just a hot piece of ass that came up with some crazy proposal for you to take her virginity? Do you see a nerdy girl who you are just doing a favor, and you’re counting down the days until sixty days is up? Do you see someone....” she trails off, and I see a tear roll down her cheek reflecting the moonlight.

“Do I see what?” I say strongly, not leaving her any room for bargaining. I need to know what she was about to say.

“It’s stupid.”

“Say it.”

“It’s nothing.”

She looks away from me, and I know it’s not nothing. Whatever she was about to say was, in fact, the opposite of nothing. I refill my tumbler with whisky and bring the bottle over to her.

“More?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yes please,” she whispers, still not making eye contact with me.

I fill her glass up, set the bottle on the table, and have her make room for me in the hammock. We sit facing each other. She’s got her legs crossed, and I’m straddling the hammock, my legs touching the ground.

“Rose. I can tell you’re holding something back. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

She looks at me, her eyes glassy, her lip almost quivering but not quite. “So is this...how it’s going to end? Is this the pinnacle we’re going to reach? I feel like I can be naughty with you in ways I never thought possible...but I don’t feel bad about doing them. It just feels hot. With you, I’m comfortable. But now we’re supposed to be done and move on in seven days and I don’t want to. When you look at me...do you see someone you could be with for more than the summer?” Her eyes glaze over.

I rock back and forth a little on the hammock. “Rose. Don’t think like that.”

“Don’t think like that?!” her tone is harsh. She takes a big pull of her drink. “How the fuck can I not think like that? You’re incredibly hot. Handsome. Smart. Dominant. Fuck me like a sex God. How am I supposed to just move on from this?!”

I take a breath. “Rose, you said you just wanted two months. Those were your words, not mine.”

“Two months!” she squeals, and I wonder if the neighbors can hear her next door. “That is such bullshit! Such a cop out! Fuck you, Cole! Two months!” she mutters under her breath and chugs the rest of her drink.

She stands. “I’m fucking ruined now, do you understand? I can’t date another man in Blackwell. They aren’t going to compare. It’s impossible.”

I clench my jaw. “Rose. I told you what you were getting into when we began. You agreed. You fucking propositioned me! You’re acting like this is all my fucking fault!”

“But it is your fault! You’re the professor. You’re supposed to be the mature one! You’re supposed to tell your student that she’s crazy, and she should go--”

“Go what?” I interject. “Go hook up with some random at the bar with an STD? Please. Rose, sit down.”

She frowns and crosses her arms under her tits. This only serves to make them bulge out more, and I wonder if she even notices what she’s doing. She’s even adorable when she’s pissed off.

“No! I”m not sitting down. Fuck this. You’re the biggest asshole in this town! Even bigger than that mechanic guy...whatever his name is.”

I scrunch my face up. “Why the fuck are you bringing up Liam? Jesus. You are fucking crazy, you know that.”

“Oh I’m crazy now?” she seethes. “You know what, I’m leaving. I’m done. I can’t even hang out with you and tell my friends where I am. I’m just your little fucking secret. And I want to see them tonight. Goodbye.”

Rose turns on her heel and storms inside.

“Rose.”

She doesn’t stop. The screen door slams behind her as she walks inside.

I jump up from the hammock and go after her. She picks up her bra and shirt, which are inside on my couch, and starts putting them on.

“I just don’t believe that I thought this would ever end well,” she says, refusing to face me, standing next to the couch.

I step toward her and stop less than a foot behind her. Her rosy scent wafts toward me. There's a little whisky mixed in with her innocence.

“Don’t you dare put those fucking clothes back on,” I command, using my Dom voice. It comes out even deeper than normal.

She spins around and gasps. Her eyes are wide.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do to me?” she challenges, regaining her nerve.

“Oh honey,” I growl, and then lean in to whisper in her ear. “You don’t walk away from me when we’re talking.”

“We’re done talking, though,” she snaps back.

“We’re not done until I tell you we’re done,” I say, taking off my belt.

“I really should be going,” she breathes, and there’s a touch of fear in her voice.

“You’re not going fucking anywhere until I’m finished with you,” I grunt, snapping my belt.

Her jaw drops a little. She licks her lips and expels a breath.

“What are you going to do to me?” she pleads.

“It’s time for your advanced fucking lesson,” I snarl, my heart beating harder than it ever has. She’s awakened a streak deep inside me, one that I’d forgotten. One she hasn’t seen yet.

And now it’s time for her to bend completely to my will. I blame her for this. For being so fucking gorgeous. So innocent. And so damn hot and cold on me.

“Answer me this,” I growl. “How do you see me?” I ask, turning the tables.

I grip my hand just below her throat. “Wh-what? What do you mean?” she stutters.

“You asked me a question earlier.” I press my chest into her back. She put her bra back on. I arch my hips into her curvaceous ass. “Now it's your turn to answer.”

“I-I don't know. Sometimes I see Professor Hanks. But mostly just you. Cole.”

“Wrong answer,” I snarl, and rub the leather of my belt on her belly.

“Fuck. S-Sir,” she pleads.

“That’s fucking right. But that’s not what I wanted to know by ‘see me.’ What I mean is when you’re at home, in your bed, touching yourself, thinking of me, how do you see me. Are you on your back when you touch yourself? Are you totally naked? Do you have your clothes on when you see me?” I raise an eyebrow toward her, but she doesn’t make eye contact.

“Sometimes I’m on my back,” she breaths. “Mostly on my stomach.”

“Take off your shorts. Show me.”

Her eyes are wide and fearful, but she obeys. She wiggles out of her shorts, gets on all fours on the couch, then lets her shoulders fall into the cushions, sticking her ass up.

“I think of you while I’m like this,” she says, her voice as sweet as the whisky is strong.

“Show me how you touch yourself.”

“Cole, I don’t know if…”

She trails off and her eyes zone in on the belt dangling from my hand. I narrow my gaze as her eyes meet mine.

“Okay,” she drawls.

She licks her lips, closes her eyes, and reaches her hand between her legs, underneath her panties. She’s got the ones on that say Property of Cole. It’s a nice touch as she gently rubs herself and lets out a soft moan.

“Mmm,” she breathes, and I feel my cock responding underneath my jeans, rapidly becoming an iron spike. With my shirt already off, I slip off my jeans without taking my eyes off her.

“That-a-girl. How wet are you?”

“Really fucking wet, Cole. Fuck. Sir.”

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you.”

“Uh-huh,” she moans.

I lift up the belt.

Whap.

“Oh God!” she cries out, intensifying her clit stroking. Her hips and ass quiver. I smile at the pink mark the leather leaves on her ass.

“You like the feeling of the leather on your ass, don’t you.”

“Yes.”

“Whose pussy is this, Little Rose?”

“It’s yours,” she mutters.

“Then why the fuck were you walking out the door?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer.”

Whap.

I strike her with the leather of the belt again. She cries out, louder again this time. She intensifies her finger strokes on her clit. Her breath is heavier.

I help her out, pulling her panties down her thighs. I lift up her legs and slide the clothing completely off.

“Wow, Rose. You really like this, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a freak. Whose freak are you?”

“Yours, C--oh fuck. Sir!”

I smirk and shake my head a little bit, running a finger over her from neck to ass. She’s got such a beautiful voluptuous figure. But she can’t take an order worth shit right now. My cock is out and it’s hard as hell. I want nothing more than to bury it in Rose’s sweet pussy and have her clench around me, but now, I have to do one more thing.

“Rose, you want my cock inside you, don’t you?”

She glances over her shoulder and sees my hard cock dangling at her back. She gives a visible, notable reaction.

“Please. I’m so close.”

I scoff, and rub her asscheeks softly where I delivered the blows. “You are such a naughty girl. It’s almost like you are being bad on purpose, just so I’ll do this.”

“Do what?” she breathes.

Whap.

I hit her again, and this time she yells so loud she makes my eardrums throb.

“I’m gonna come, oh my God, Can I come?”

“No.”

“No?” Her voice is full of surprise.

“Remove your hand, Little Rose.”

She obeys, begrudgingly, her body still shaking as she takes her hand off her pussy.

“Why?” she begs.

“Because I want to see your eyes as you come all over my big cock. Flip over.”

She gets on her back and spreads her legs to the sides, almost straight up in the air. Her pussy is already good and warmed up for me as I push all the way in.

“Fuck Rose,” I grunt, almost angry. And I’m not even sure why. “I know you like it rough. How rough?”

“Do whatever you want,” she swallows, and the dainty voice is in such marvelous contrast to her dirty words.

I fuck her slow at first. Then hard, then slow again. I turn her around for a few minutes and fuck her from behind. I have her ride me. And then I put her on her back again, put her legs on my shoulders, and bury my cock as far as I can deep inside her with every thrust.

“Cole can I please come? Sir…” she corrects herself. I don’t fucking care any more. She can call me whatever she wants at this point.

“Come all over my cock, babygirl.”

“Oh Christ,” she moans, and her fingernails dig deep into my back. I think she might draw blood.

I don’t care though. I love that she’s as dirty as me. Dirtier than I thought when we started this whole thing, that’s for sure.

I hold her head and aim her beautiful brown eyes right at mine as she pulses on my cock, and I reciprocate by shooting my load deep into her, grunting and growling as I do.

When it’s all over, we both lay in a heap on my couch.

“So do you think I can handle you now?” Rose asks.

I glance over at the beautiful fucking specimen. Her creamy skin, pink nipples, her lazy post-sex smile. Not only is she gorgeous, she’s the only one for me, if I stay in Blackwell that is.

I don’t answer her question, just change the subject.

“You want some more whisky?” I ask, getting up.

“Sure,” she nods.

I don’t answer her because I don’t want to admit the feeling that is cropping up in me right now.

After this summer, I’m not the one who ruined her for the future. A girl like her? She’ll be fucking fine. Now that I’ve taught her how to be unabashedly sexual, she’ll have guys lining up around the block.

I unfocus my eyes a little as I pour straight whisky into my tumbler, way fucking more than I normally pour.

I didn’t ruin her. She ruined me.

I sit back on the couch with her, forcing a smile. “Here’s your glass,” I say.

I take a long, strong pull of my drink, and slide my hand over the flesh of her leg.

“It’s a shame we’ve only got just one more week of this,” she says. “But I feel calmer now after that.”

“Yep,” I answer curtly.

She smiles sweetly at my icy hot stare. I wonder if she can sense how much I’m falling for her.

I’m royally fucked.