DECEPTION : (A student/teacher romance)

I barely slept a wink all night, tossing and turning, self-loathing clawing at my skin. He’s my student, and I’m his teacher. He’s eighteen and fucked me with his fingers, and worse, I let him.

Last night, I contemplated texting Sharna but deleted each message I typed, too scared to admit how I feel for someone so young—my student, for Christ’s sake.

What the hell have I done? I scrub a hand down my face and drag myself out of bed with a heavy sigh, then head toward the shower.

The familiar scent I’ve become accustomed to lingers in the air, and I swear it’s him I smell, yet I know it’s impossible.

Stepping into the shower, I switch on the jets and close my eyes. After adding some shower gel to my sponge, I wash my body clean, hoping to rid myself of the sins I’ve participated in.

That can’t happen again. Ever.

I’ve worked too damn hard to risk my career and the reputation of my family for a fling. I’m not that person. I turn off the taps and step out, then wrap a towel around myself and head back into the bedroom to get ready for the day ahead.

My phone buzzes on the mattress, and I pick it up, then grimace at the name on the screen.

Shit. Could this day get any worse?

Tony shoves another slice of pizza into his mouth, and I cringe at the chunk of cheese hanging from the tips of his fingers as he continues to talk with his mouth full.

“So, I said, look, just because you’re the principal”—cheese splutters out of his mouth, and I rear back—“doesn’t mean you get to choose the syllabus in my lesson without my consent.” I nod while turning my attention away from him, unable to watch him eat and talk any longer.

“Consent is everything, don’t you think, Hallie?”

My mouth parts as Rocco’s smooth voice has me darting my gaze up toward his blazing eyes, then back toward Tony. Oh shit, he’s here. This can’t be happening. Panic flashes through me, causing my lungs to constrict.

Rocco stands above him and rests a hand on Tony’s shoulder, then he turns his head to stare at Rocco with wide eyes. “Wh-who are you?”

“I’m someone who wants to speak with Hallie in private,” he grits out as his gray eyes darken, making me swallow at the deadly threat behind them.

“Oh, but we’re eating.” Tony gestures toward his plate, ignorant to Rocco’s threatening demeanor.

Rocco leans over and tightens his grip on his shoulder, his tattoos moving under the tension. “I suggest you leave, right. Fucking. Now.” Each word is deadly, laced with a violent threat.

I clear my throat. “Tony, could you please just give me a minute? Perhaps you could get me another drink?” I nod toward my empty glass.

His shell-shocked face turns to mine, and when he finally nods, relief floods me. He pushes back in his chair and stumbles. Rocco barely gives him room to leave, and Tony grumbles under his breath as he heads toward the bar. “M-my pizza best not be cold.”

Rocco slides into his chair, and I feel the weight of his stare in my soul. “A date?” He arches an eyebrow. “I had my fingers in your pussy, and you go on a date with another man?” His jaw sharpens, and the hatred radiates from him.

“It isn’t a date. It’s dinner,” I snap.

He leans closer. “It’s a fucking date, Hallie. A date with what’s mine.” My breath hitches and my pulse races. Why the hell do I like the thought of him claiming me so much? What the hell is wrong with me? The insanity behind the thought unsettles me, but still, I know it to be true. I can feel it in my bones.

The tendons on his neck protrude as if he’s fighting to remain calm. “You’re to leave. Right fucking now.” He stabs his finger on the table.

“What if I don’t want to?” I raise my chin.

“Then I’ll slit his throat and fuck you in his blood while the entire restaurant watches, Little Red.” He drags a calculated finger over his lip, and I can’t help but lick my own. “I’ll open your cunt nice and wide while my cum drips from you, letting everyone know who owns you. Hm, that would be perfect, if you ask me.” His tongue darts out over his lip as if contemplating doing just that.

My lips part, but as footsteps approach the table, I push back on my chair.

“I’m sorry, Tony. I have a family emergency. I have to leave.”

“Oh, he’s family?” He waves a hand toward Rocco.

I part my lips to respond, but Rocco snags hold of my arm and walks us away from the table. “That’s right, motherfucker. I’m family. I’m her fucking daddy.”

My mouth falls open, and I will the floor to open and swallow me whole, but something tells me Rocco would pull me out kicking and screaming while declaring I’m his.

The rough grip he has on me tightens as he marches us out the door. “Now Daddy needs to punish you.”

His threat is ominous and laced with a promise I want him to explore. I hate myself for it because I sure as hell shouldn’t crave my student’s depravity like this. I should be trying to pull him into the light, not be drawn into his darkness.