Teach Me: Sinful Desires (23 page)

“There’s nothing to end,” she said feebly. “I want you to leave.”

The hard lines around his eyes and mouth etched a tale of years of his strong rule and control over this institution and the war he waged with his brother. She imagined his penchant for cruelty reached far beyond her own beliefs. His stare never wavered, but hers did. She found him scary.

“My brother has tested my patience. He has for many years. He’s a hypocrite. He claims to hate who we are but can’t stop being the man he is. The problem is he allows his emotions to weaken him. I guess he gets that from our mother. I’m not a complete asshole.” Thaddeus took a step. She stepped further back. He paused. “Thanks to your sexy books and your beauty you were perfect for him. I wanted him to allow himself to feel that. I am grateful. But he has the responsibility to be much more. We both do. He is, well… he’s resistant to my authority.”

“What makes you the one in charge? Bryce doesn’t strike me as someone to bend to any of you in Gaylor Knights.”

“That is why the end of your ‘thing’ will be done without any mention of me. If not, you will be stripped of your teaching assignment here and I will go as far as to reveal your alternative lifestyle to every teaching state in the Union. You’d be lucky to get a position as a landscaper when I’m done with you. Are we clear?”

“Go to hell.”

Thaddeus laughed. “I’m the authority because I like being cruel Destini. I have no problem in doing the things my brother won’t to get what I want. I gave you to him. Now I will simply take you away.”

Thaddeus Gaylor gave her a curt nod, then turned and walked out. Destini gulped down a breath. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped breathing. She stood there, reeling. Several long minutes passed before she remembered the need for air. Several more minutes ticked by before anger swelled in her so strong she felt like smashing something. How dare he threaten her! Destini dropped on the sofa. The candle flames swayed in the hearth. The pictures of her family smiled down at her from the mantle. Yet her universe had reversed, shifted, thrown her into an alternate plane. It was one where a man she loved was a brother to a monster in an expensive suit like Thaddeus Gaylor. Sure, he had been pleasant enough, but it was all the things he didn’t say that chilled her to the bone.

Destini should quit. She would quit. Walking away from Gaylor and Sir would be the sane thing to do. Still her mind grappled with her heart. Because that was the one organ she had no control over. Destini blinked out of her stupor. She was exposed and vulnerable. Her entire future was in jeopardy. What had she done?

***

The bell sounded. The kids shot up from their seats at once. “Okay, remember to read chapter three. We will have a pop quiz in the morning,” she called after the shuffling little ones, all in a race to escape her classroom. Destini coasted through thirty report presentations and two poetry readings. Now it was over.

The children filed out, some stopping by her desk to turn in extra credit assignments. Destini forced a pleasant smile and nodded to the long, drawn-out excuses around why it was two days late. She barely heard a word Missy Johnson said. The young girl, thinking herself off the hook, flipped away. Destini watched her bounce out of the classroom with envy. Their innocence, their security, she envied it all now. Several cherub faces passed her desk saying their goodbyes and Destini forced down the urge to cry. She could go back to Wellington. Bryce would hire her with no questions asked. But that would be running, and sadly she would miss each and every one of her students.

Sometimes it’s good to run. Sometimes running is the only thing you can do. In this case, Destini, running is the best thing to do. Especially since you forgot to wear your mask when Mr. Snooty Bigot paid you a visit.

Destini rose. She ignored her inner voice and turned to the chalkboard and began the daunting task of wiping it down. The door closed behind her.

“Did you forget something?” she asked, when no response came, she glanced back over her shoulder. Bryce waited at her desk.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“What happened last night? I left you two messages.”

“I have only a few minutes before the next class arrives,” Destini said.

“You want an apology in person. Fine, here it is. I’m sorry, Destini. You evoked your veto power and I made you feel bad for using it. That is not our agreement. I allowed my jealousy to overcome me. I’m sorry beautiful.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Make time,” he demanded.

She turned. “What did you say?”

“I said make time, damn it!”

“Don’t you yell at me! Don’t you ever yell at me!” she seethed. Destini slammed the eraser down on her desk sending up a plume of yellow dust. “I’m sick of this. Of us. It’s over. We’re done. I’m not evoking a veto I’m nullifying our contract. Now get out!”

Bryce eyes stretched. “Because I won’t let you go see him? He means that much to you?”

“What? No. Because I can’t do this with you anymore. Be your dark little dirty secret.”

“My what?” he stood.

“I want out of it. You officially have my two-weeks notice. Now leave.”

“Destini.”

“Hi, Ms. Sanders, Headmaster Gaylor,” two young girls sang as they walked in the door. Destini stood there on the brink of tears. Bryce’s face drained of blood. She saw raw hurt in his eyes and that too was another knife in her gut. But she was done with him, with men, and with all of it. She knew what it was like to mourn love to survive disappointment. She’d be okay, eventually. She just wanted to be Destini again. This was the only way she knew how.

Bryce turned and walked out. She plopped down in her chair and expelled a deep sigh. More kids came strolling in, all of them talking at once. Destini wiped at her loose tears and smiled. “Okay, everybody. Get settled and open your books to page three.”

***

Bryce couldn’t do it. A night of vodka and he still couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to tare up the contract. He stared at her lovely signature under his and tried hard to understand why she would actually give up on him. In an emotional tailspin, he staggered as he stood from his chair and threw the bottle weakly at the wall. It didn’t make the target. Instead it smashed on the floor. His head was a mass of confusion and he was forced to close his eyes with his hands pressed to the side of his head. Her face surfaced behind his closed lids. He saw her packing, leaving him. He saw her with that bastard, Russell Dumont. He checked. The bastard had lied. He didn’t have cancer. There was no record of him meeting with a doctor in Maryland. He was going to let her learn that lesson. But maybe she knew all along. Maybe she had played him from the very beginning.

He saw Destini and Russell laughing at him. He saw Russell on his knees professing love in ways he never did. Didn’t she know he wanted to be that man? That he was trying. This wasn’t easy for him, but damn it he was trying. And she wanted to bail. Sir lifted his face from his palms. His eyes were bloodshot, teary. He couldn’t give up, even if she already had.

***

Destini glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. She set the book she was reading down. She should go to bed. Sleep was the worst for her now. She just thought of Bryce, dreamed of him, and woke up with such heartache she wanted to kill herself. The sooner she left Gaylor the better.

Bryce called her several times in the night. Finally he stopped. Part of her was relieved. If he’d just let her go, it would be best for them both. Maybe she’d call out sick tomorrow to get her head together. Destini lifted from the cushions of the sofa when a pounding at her door startled her. She put her hand to her breast and stared at the trembling door.

“Open it, Destini! I want to talk to you! Now!”

She didn’t recognize the tone he used. It made her act immediately. She opened the door and discovered why. He was drunk. She had never, since she’d known him, seen him drunk. And many times they shared wine and she got tipsy. But Bryce was never drunk. He lifted his head. His lids sagged over raw, red eyes. Had he been crying?

Happy now, Destini? There’s your proof? The cool, calculating Sir, who can’t say he loves you, is drunk and near tears. You’ve gotten your revenge. You’ve taught him the most valuable lesson in trying to own another. Screw him and his family. Slam the door in his face and get the hell out of that place. Stick to your plan, Destini. If not, you’re in trouble.

“What is it?”

“You hate me,” he slurred,

“No.”

He pushed her aside and staggered in. She stepped back, repulsed by the strong smell of liquor. “You’ve been drinking.”

“No shit,” he sneered.

“I want you to go.”

“NO. Why are you doing this to me?”

“Bryce, stop.”

“It’s Sir, damn it!!!”

“Sir,” she corrected herself. “Please go.”

“No. Answer me God damn it!”

Destini thought of Thaddeus Gaylor’s warning. Of all she had to lose. She shook her head. “Because you can’t bring yourself to love me, Sir. Do you understand? I need to be loved by you not controlled.”

Bryce stormed at her, and she was too slow to block his reach. He roughly grabbed her face, his actions void of the tenderness he often showed at the end of one of their games. A wet sloppy kiss on her that reeked of vodka added to his open display of despair. She pushed hard at his chest. He pressed his forehead to hers, groaning. “I have never in my life loved anyone, Destini. I’ve never had anyone love me. I’m on the other side of the looking glass. That kind of love you keep seeking is false. What I offered you was much purer.”

She didn’t know how to respond. How could he not know the true meaning of love? Who could survive as a child without a hug or show of love? What kind of family did he come from?

“That’s hard for me to believe. And if it is true, then what the hell are you doing here? Let me leave.”

“Don’t leave me,” he said, his hold on her face so tight she winced.

“Bryce, stop. You’re hurting me.”

Dazed, he let her go, and she looked up at him. The side of her face burned, and her ears rang from the pressure of his hold. What she saw in his eyes broke her heart. Before she could speak he went under like a linebacker and threw her over his shoulder. Destini was so shocked, she froze, seeing only the floor as he carried her through her place. He kicked her door open; she was dropped on the mattress. He was on her in seconds. Taking her wrists, he pinned them both high above her head and he did so roughly.

“Ouch!”

He lifted to see how her nightshirt had pushed up high enough to reveal her stomach. “This won’t solve anything. Don’t do this. Sex is not the problem. Can’t you talk to me about how you feel?” she pleaded.

“I need you,” he slurred. “That’s how I feel.”

He licked the side of her face and her body betrayed her. She closed her eyes as a tingling sensation spread from her clit through her pelvis. Bryce put her wrists in one of his hands to keep her pinned down as he violently yanked on her pajama bottoms. Destini lifted her hips to aid him, staring into his eyes that were now crazed with lust.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Sir. Do you understand? When you look in my eyes, what do you see?”

He paused, slapped back to reality by her question. She waited, with him firmly planted between her thighs. For a brief moment, even through his drunken state, she had hopes that he would let her in. But it passed. He dropped his face into the side of her neck and kept it there while he resumed removing her pajamas. Successful at that, he released his cock. He was in her to the hilt with one thrust. Destini let tears slip out of the corners of her eyes into her hair. Each one she shed in frustration and regret for falling again for a man who was emotionally unavailable. He rolled his hips and beat his cock in and out of her until the headboard was slamming into the wall. It hurt more than pleased and she tried to focus on anything but the beating her pussy was taking.

“Slow down.”

Mindlessly out of control, he grunted and sat up, bringing her up with him. In the center of the bed, she involuntarily was on his cock with her legs wrapped around his waist. Sir pinned one of her arms behind her back and gripped her throat with his free hand. Destini’s eyes stretched wide. He forced her to fuck him in that position. The only time his hand on her throat eased enough for her to swallow a breath was when she moved up and down his cock. She could barely speak, but she struggled and then gave him what he wanted. But it didn’t slow him down. She had no idea what he was doing. She knew he was too drunk to understand, but sex with him had never been such a torture. He put her on her back, releasing her throat and arm to grab her ass and part her buttocks while he pumped his cock in and out with more fury.

The entire time she lay there suffering between throes of passion and resentment. When he released his seed in her, she wanted to shove him off and club him to death. It was the first time she actually felt violated, and she hated him for that. He however, became dead weight. He made it impossible for her to move. Soon he weakened, and after several long uncomfortable minutes she heard him snore. Destini shoved him off. She pulled the cover up over her body and put her back to him. There she lay, crying into her pillow

***

Bryce slammed the door to his office. He kicked the chair in front of his desk and sent it toppling over to its side. He dropped his hands on his desk, then cleared it of all the items with one swipe. His rage didn’t compare to his hurt. It was raw and frighteningly real. He woke and she was gone, already in her first period teaching her students. He had a bitch of a headache, but he managed to stumble home and return to the school. Between classes, he tried to corner her. When he finally did, she recoiled at his touch. She told him it was over, and if he showed up at her place again she’d call the police. He was stunned. He knew he’d been with her last night. Somehow, he remembered parts of it in vivid pictures in his mind. The kicker was that he could not determine how much of what he remembered was real. Had he forced himself on her? God help him, but the alcohol blurred his memory. What had he done? He wasn’t his brother, or his father. He would never purposefully hurt her.