Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
…She is a bad girl, though.
Despite the good grades, and being here, at Winchester, amongst the children of senators, CEOs, and other elite, and being on the varsity cheer squad, and the impeccable record?
Besides all of that, deep down, hidden away, and clawing to get out, Anastasia Penworth is a bad, bad girl. I’d never have thought it, or know it, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m drawn to her like a moth to flame. Or maybe it’s more like a moth to a nuclear fucking bomb. And then, I supposed the oh-so-subtle hint of leaving her fucking panties in my desk drawer. How did I know they were hers? How’d I know that the tiny white thong with the little pink lip-stick hearts on them belonged to her?
Because the day before I they showed up in my desk, they are on her. And when she paused on her way out of my classroom—the last one out the door, as usual—and bent over to pick up her dropped pencil, that little plaid uniform skirt pulled up high over her ass, and there it was, pulled tight between the smooth, flawless globes of her ass.
Straight-A student, varsity cheerleader, pigtailed little innocent school girl… and a naughty little brat underneath it all.
For months now, it’s been a burning, boiling, un-ignorable little hissing in my ear. A car alarm going off in the distance, and growing louder, and louder. One of those bombs dropped from an airplane in a World War II movie, whistling closer and closer and closer.
And tonight, it’s going to explode. Tonight, there’s no more holding back. Tonight, we both know why we’re here.
…Tonight, she’s mine.
I am not a good man, and I’ve made peace with that. For her. Because of her. Everything for her. And tonight, she will get everything she wants.
Tick. Tock.
My cock thickens in my slacks, my hands tremble into fists, my jaw grinds.
Tick. Tock.
My eyes swivel up to clock at the back of the room, above her, which mirrors the one above me. I’m aware of her eyes towards the front, above me, watching her clock as I watch mine, and the fire begins to roar inside of me, knowing she’s counting down the seconds too.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Tick.
The second hand clicks, the minute hand slides past twelve, and suddenly, the whole world blurs away.
It’s time. And finally, she’s mine.
Happy birthday, baby girl.
3
Anstasia
“Ms. Penworth.”
A shiver teases down my spine as his deep, commanding voice teases across the classroom. The lights are low during the detention—the classroom lit by his desk lamp and two sconces on the walls rather than the florescent overheads as during class time. I look up, swallowing thickly, and when my eyes lock with his piercing blue ones across the room and the few empty desks between us, I tremble.
Blue fire swirls in those eyes, burning me, captivating me, and pulling me in like a blue whirlwind. His jaw is clenched tightly, and yet there’s a small little hint of a smile at the very corners of his perfect lips. He runs his tongue across his teeth under his lips, the scruff on his jaw rippling along with the ink on his arms as he raises one hand to stroke his chin. The hand drops back to his desk, a single finger tapping the wood as he stares right into me before he slowly raises his hand.
The finger crooks, beckoning me.
“Come here.”
I tremble as I swallow thickly, feeling my pulse race a little faster. I brace myself, taking a shaky breath as I force myself to stand.
“Professor Bard—”
“Come here, Ms. Penworth,” he growls lowly.
God he’s so commanding—his voice so deep and growly. The sound of it in class is enough to take my breath away and make my blush. But here? Alone with him, at midnight, with him looking at me like that?
Well, right now, that voice sends a shiver down my spine and heat blooming between my thighs.
We both know what this is. We know why we’re here. I mean, we’re both adults, right?
…As of one minute ago, that is.
I move towards him, feeling like I’m drifting underwater in slow motion. He watches me the whole time, his eyes sweeping over me and sending a tingling, naughty feeling through me.
“Here,” he growly, crooking his finger again and then turning it to point at the desk. He slides back from it in his chair, meaning for me to stand between him and his desk. I shiver, nodding quietly and feeling the heat blazing across my face as I move where he’s pointed, standing there half-leaning against his desk, hands clasped in front of me.
“Yes, Professor Bard,” I say quietly.
“You know why you’re here.”
God yes.
“Y—yes.”
Professor Bard nods. “Today was unacceptable, Anastasia.”
God, the way he says my name has my core tightening, my pulse skipping.