Teach Me: Sinful Desires Page 3

  “Let’s face it. Things with us aren’t over. But I’ll give you the space you asked for. Oh yeah, and I’d like to meet Rain someday. I have a strong idea of who her mystery man is.”

  The line clicked off. She had no chance for a come back. Well she did, but as usual she didn’t take it. Now the moment was gone, and she’d twist over the phone call for the rest of the week with all the things she should have said to the bastard.

  “Damn it!” She threw the phone to the side.

  Face it, Destini, you know more than you ever let on with Russell. Rain didn’t come from thin air, baby. That pencil-cock-mean-jerk never deserved you. The question, Destini, is who does? And when do you plan on finding him?

  “I’m going crazy,” she mumbled. She slammed the lid to the laptop shut. She tossed it aside and pushed up from her seat on the sofa. Every light in her place was off except for the candles she lit in the fireplace. In the darkness, she hugged herself. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the shelves, not a picture frame off center, no clutter, and no excess. Everything in order. Her life was in order, like the rules that she strictly obeyed as the good obedient daughter, sister, friend, ex-lover. And none of it was real.

  It was hard to get Russell out of her mind. His cool arrogance, his lack of care for her feelings, should have freed her long ago. After all, she was a good girlfriend; she did as she thought he wished.

  Now Russell was calling, Naiya was meddling, and soon her mother and father would be adding pressure for her to marry and be the good wife. They would want her to become a broodmare to a faithful husband.

  Destini shook off the chill and headed through her place to her bedroom. She closed her hand over the cool enamel of the doorknob and pulled it open. It was sudden, the chill that moved through her. The cool emptiness of her bed was the source. Silent loneliness awaited her. There was no one to share her desires or passions. She forced herself to look away. Her chest burned with the urge to cry. She would not. Not a tear. She had nothing to cry over. This was what she wanted. There was nothing wrong with her life.

  Still, you want more, don’t you? Who can survive only in her head, in her fantasies alone? Not you, Destini. There’s someone out there who will understand you. You just have to make the first move.

  Destini’s gaze shifted toward the closet. She stared at the shadowed definition of her conservative skirts and slacks, each one with a matching jacket and muted-colored blouses or sweaters. When she went inside her ‘boring closet’ and flipped on the light, she took a long hard look at her life. At herself. She could see her students nodding obediently as she reminded them of their studies. She felt the pleasure of teaching, of stretching their minds to learn more. She felt and knew that she was doing something important.

  Running her fingers over the threads of a skirt, her hand stopped. After the breakup with Russell, she and Naiya went on a shopping spree. Her friend forced her to buy a party dress. She pulled out the sinful black thing and held it out. Of course she’d never worn it. It wasn’t her.

  But Rain would.

  Four

  “Ms. Sanders?”

  Destini turned from the blackboard, stirring up a cloud of yellow chalk dust that dissipated in the air around her. The school principal stood at the door, hands in his pockets and his blazer parted to reveal the crisp white starched shirt stretched over his broad chest. How long had he been standing there, she wondered?

  He was watching her again.

  “Yes, Mr. Carson? What can I do for you?” she asked. She placed the eraser down and dusted off her hands. A thin yellow mist of chalk swirled, tickled her nose hairs. She suppressed the immediate urge to sneeze. Waving it away, she gave him another polite smile. Her gaze never left his as he entered her classroom.

  He was classically handsome in a suit cut from too-expensive fabric on an educator’s salary. Bryrce Carson was thirty-four and six-foot-two of sheer male. His hair was thick. The deepest shade of black. And he had the clearest green eyes under long lashes she’d ever seen on a man. He appeared as immaculate as the school under his jurisdiction. Not a chair out of place, not a stray book to be found. She admired his orderly nature, his discipline. Every teacher, student, aide, or janitorial staff member knew that Principal Carson expected high performance and they adhered accordingly.

  It didn’t bother Destini much, but it was torture for Naiya. The art and drama teacher wanted freedom for the kids to express themselves. There was a constant conflict between the two educators. For Destini’s part she stayed out of the administrator’s way. There were times during his meetings he would stare directly at her, into her eyes. It was so intense it was almost frightening. And then the times he’d pile on work and make her do all volunteer projects at the school. If she failed or made the simplest mistake his punishment would be severe with more work assignments that were even tougher. She couldn’t tell if the man hated or admired her commitment to exceed and please him. So she kept her distance.

  Now he was here, and she knew why he wasn’t happy.

  He stopped at a desk and ran his finger over the top, then rubbed it together as if testing for a speck of dirt. This visit, and his inspection, seemed a little too random, a little forced. She crossed her arms and waited. His hands clasped behind his back. His soft green eyes, clear and bottomless, locked with hers. He reminded her of a Harvard intellectual sans the pipe and smoking jacket. His authoritative nature oozed power even in this environment.

  “I just got off the phone with Madelyn Brichton from Gaylor Preparatory.”

  “Okay?”

  “She’s very excited to have you joining their program, mid-school term and all. I told her how disappointed we are to lose you.”

  “I wanted to thank you. For the recommendation,” she said.

  “Are you going to stand there and pretend you didn’t know my father founded that school?” he narrowed his eyes on her. “That I’m on the board of approvals?”

  Destini lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny that seemed to peel away layers of her confidence. She wasn’t sure why he emphasized the word lose, but his eyes sent messages with that statement she decided she’d avoid.

  “I knew. Its one of the reasons I admire their curriculum. The work you’ve done there.”

  “Is that right?” Bryce gave her a sly smile.

  “Well thank you, sir. This is the best decision for me, ah, my career.”

  “We’ve been working together for four years now. Call me Bryce.”

  Destini forced a smile, opting not to explore the hidden meaning behind his tone. “Again, it has nothing to do with Wellington. I love it here. Love the kids and staff, all of it. I just need to further my career.”

  “Maybe I can convince you to reconsider?” He cleared his throat. “Dinner perhaps?”

  Floored, Destini literally lost the ability to speak. Did he just say dinner? During her silence, Principal Carson ran his fingers through his hair. His jaw tightened and then relaxed as he was struggling over what to say next.

  “It’s um… time to discuss a counter-offer. I’m owed that much. Correction. Forgive me, Ms. Sanders. Wellington is owed that much. Like I said, we don’t want to lose you.”

  “I… well… I don––”

  “Think about it. Consider it. Let me know. Possibly this week, okay?”

  “Yes, Mr.… er… Bryce,” she said, putting her hands on her waist. His intense gaze shifted from the bobbing of her chin to her hips. She stopped immediately when the cool evergreen swirls of his irises seemed to change into something less formal. When they lifted to her face, they were soft, almost pleading for her to ask him to stay. Shocked and trapped in the moment, the silence between them became the third person in the room. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak.

  The door to her classroom flew open.

  “Dez! Baby girl we need to talk––” Naiya stopped at the sight of their principal. Her surprised, bright stare swiveled between them both. D
estini felt as if she were caught in the middle of something obscene. Why, she didn’t know, but it compelled her to speak.

  “Oh, Mr. Carson was just telling me about the school wanting me to stay.”

  Naiya’s face changed. “Mmm. Well, good. She’s the best we got here. I’m glad you’re on my side with this, Mr. Carson.”

  Bryce mumbled something in agreement, before he turned on his heels and strolled out. Once the door closed behind him, Naiya plopped her hands on her hips and rolled her neck. “He’s so damn fucking weird,” she tsked, whirling back around. “Such a tight-ass, drill sergeant. Bleh!”

  “I think he was flirting with me,” Destini said. She hid her smile behind a nervous chuckle.

  Naiya’s laughter clapped like thunder, bouncing off the plaster in the room.

  “Shush!” Destini admonished. “He might be in the hall still.”

  Destini hurried to the door, pressing her nose to the cool rectangular pane to look out. There were only lockers and polished floors in sight, but no principal Carson. Little did she know he stood over to the left out of her line of vision keenly listening. She turned on her friend who was holding her side in laughter, having dropped the folder she was carrying onto Destini’s desk.

  “It’s not funny,” Destini said.

  “You and Bryce Carson? Hilarious! Hil-fucking-larious!”

  “Okay, Naiya. Enough,” Destini said. “I didn’t say I liked him. I just thought it was weird how he was acting. Like he wanted to say something.”

  “Of course he wanted to say something.” Naiya clapped her hands together. “Please don’t abandon me, Destini. Who else can I work to death for so little pay?” Naiya drawled. “Girl, you need to get out more if you’re flirting with Canker-sore Carson.”

  “Canker-sore?”

  “He acts like one. A festering scab on this school. Somebody needs to pick him off. Did you read the email I sent you? He’s shutting down my production of Romeo and Juliet for the sixth graders because he believes it’s too obscene. That tight-ass is straight out of the dark ages. Do you know he told Diane to button her blouse before entering her classroom? You should see the books he’s pushing to have taken off the approved reading list. Ridiculous!”

  “Lower your voice, Naiya.”

  Her friend waved her hand at the closed door. “Whatever. Forget him. I’m here for another reason.”

  “What reason?” Destini asked.

  “Are you going? Will you go? Tonight is the night. If you’re going, it has to be tonight.”

  Destini took in the words but the meaning didn’t register. Naiya had a way of starting a conversation with a conversation, making the other person race to catch up. Going? Will she go? Tonight? All of it code, but for what? She stared at her for a long moment until the words fit like pieces of a jigsaw and the meaning seeped in. Naiya was talking about her going to that club. That high-priced sex club! Was she crazy?

  “Absolutely not!” Destini frowned.

  “What? You said––”

  “I never agreed to go to that place. That’s something you’re into, not me.”

  “Oh, cut the shit. Rain would turn a place like that out. And, honey, let me clue you in on something. Rain is you.” She pointed an accusatory finger. “The other you, the one you think I don’t see. You need to stop all the stalling and cut her loose.”

  “Have you spoken to Russell?” Destini hurled a curve ball that finally shut her friend up. It wiped away that smart grin from Naiya’s face. She heard the same message Russell delivered, note-for-note, in Naiya’s voice. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “Huh?” Naiya asked.

  “Have you spoken to Russell?”

  “Why are you asking me that?” Naiya bristled.

  “He knows about Rain, about my blogging, my erotic stories. Said he read some. Now I’m wondering, since the man was too self-absorbed to notice if I was awake during sex, how would he know that I’m a published author?”

  Naiya gave her a sheepish look. Guilty eyes were cast down, avoiding her own. She scratched at a spot on her neck and sucked in her lips… thinking.

  “It’s not what you think,” said Naiya.

  “Oh, dear lord, you didn’t! You DIDN’T.”

  “He pissed me off. I ran into him at the Whole Foods. He was talking trash, calling you names, saying you were uptight, laughing even. Maggot. I had to: I couldn’t help myself.”

  “What the hell are you doing talking to him Naiya?”

  “He started it. I set his ass straight. Let him know you got more passion in your pinky toe than his tight ass has in that Vienna sausage in his pants he calls a dick.”

  “Damn it! I trusted you!” Destini dropped in her chair.

  “And you still can.”

  “How? First you go and book an event without my knowledge, and now you’ve discussed whether or not I’m frigid with my ex. How dare you! I told you I didn’t want anything to do with him.”

  “Then why are you talking to him?” Naiya asked.

  “Listen to me damn it. My life is my life! Stop pushing me or you will push yourself right out of it.” Destini’s voice broke under the strain. She settled back, realizing she was getting a little too worked up over this. Still, she dropped her head back and sighed. Naiya looked on with shame. Destini hated when she pouted, but she was really pissed at her.

  “I’m sorry, Dez. So sorry. I’m scared, okay,” Naiya confessed.

  “Scared of what?”

  “You’re leaving. You’re the only friend I got. I don’t want you to go. Guess I’m pushing for you to break out of your shell because I’m desperate to come up with any lame excuse to convince you to stay. It’s not the club. It’s you finding something here––anything here––that will keep you from leaving me. I don’t know what gets into my head at times. Forgive me, okay? I love you girl. Sometimes I don’t know when––”

  “––to stop pushing.” Destini finished for her.

  Rising from the snug fit of the desk chair, she paced around and opened her arms. The embrace was brief but the forgiveness solid. Destini could never be mad at her friend for long. “How about dinner tonight? We can talk about Gaylor and weigh the pros and cons.” Destini offered. “Your treat.”

  “Tonight?” Naiya asked.

  “Let me guess. You have plans?” Destini asked.

  “A date,” she answered.

  “Okay, another night,” Destini shrugged. “I’d rather curl up with my laptop this evening anyway.”

  Naiya wrinkled her nose. “Since you don’t have any plans, you should––”

  Destini already knew what was on the tip of her tongue. “I’m not going to that club.”

  “Tonight’s ‘Leather Straps Love’ night,” Naiya blurted. “Ask me why?”

  Even though she dreaded the answer, Destini couldn’t resist. “Why?”

  “Because tonight is a special clientele, with special tastes. The strap. And you have to wear leather. It’s a requirement.”

  “Why me?” Destini sighed, slapping her hand with her forehead.

  Naiya laughed, “I spoke to Nero, the club’s owner, and he told me the cover charge is one grand, get this, it’s invitation only. These fools actually have to get invited to spend this kind of money. The guest list was hand picked from some of the wealthiest men in the state. Women too. No problem with names or identities, because no one wants to know. Just good funky fanny-smacking times.” She stepped forward and dropped her voice as if they’d be heard in the empty classroom. “You can go in there as Rain and no one would question it. You’d never see ‘mister-tie-me-up-and-fuck-me-until-I’m-brain-dead’ again. It’ll be completely a one-time deal.”

  Destini shook her head. “Why should I?”

  “Dez, think about it. What do you write? How Rain picks her man, breaks her man, and when he can’t hang, tosses her man. Rain would do this club and turn it out. Take the best in there and walk out with his balls as earrings.”

  �
��I’m not Rain,” she said in flat-out disinterest.

  “I say differently,” Naiya shrugged. “I gave you the ticket. You decide whether or not to catch the train, the freak train, that is,” she said. Destini picked up her folder. “So, I’ll call you tomorrow to see what was up or what went down. Toodles!”

  Destini smiled. “I love you, Naiya, but sometimes I have to wonder if you’re sane,” she yelled at the closing door.

  Five

  “Uh…wa-wa-wait..uuh-oh…ooo-ohh….God!”

  “Not God, sugar. It’s Rain,” she panted. Rain worked her hips with concentrated pelvic thrusts. She dug her nails into the caps of his knees. She rode him like a show-pony, backwards. Sweat rolled like a lonely tear down her spine to the crack of her ass, which clenched and unclenched. Her back-and-forth motion had him bucking on the mattress. Rain cast another look over her shoulder at her guy, just like she liked him, tied down to the bed and blindfolded. This one submitted to her games. She needed a change. The rebellion of her last lover disturbed her. He never removed his mask. But after their role reversal and passionate sex filled night she wanted to know his name. But he left. She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. This lover was weak or just very open to her whims. Whatever his reason for submission, he would have to do.

  His chest was covered in splotchy red patches from the candle-wax burns. She fixed him with clamps on his nipples and one attached to his scrotum. He squirmed and bucked his hips, grunting expletives.

  “It’s good baby, isn’t it? Tell me… tell me… mmm... so good! I want to hear you say it!” His dick was thick, not long, and it behaved wonderfully when he shot all five inches upward with his hip thrusts. Yes, he was damn good, yummy even. She worked her ass once more for good measure, and he hissed like a deflating balloon. It came from a place low and deep.

  Rain gasped after she suddenly lifted her ass and bounced it on his cock.

  Bounce… rotate… bounce… rotate… a rhythmic dance that set her teeth to chattering …