First 2 Chapters for Sinful Angel
Chapter 1 - Vince
Groaning I turn off the alarm coming from my phone. No matter the length of time I’ve been getting up at this god forsaken hour, I still have not adjusted. Especially since my days are longer, the time between sleeping and waking gets slimmer.
I wish I could sleep in, but making sure a teenager wakes to go to school, and is on time getting there is a part of this routine called my life.
Grabbing last night’s jeans, I pull them up over my morning erection with a grimace. I’d love to take care of that. But the unanswered desire I've more than gotten used to. Not bothering with a shirt, I make my way through the hall, down the nearest set of stairs, and into the kitchen.
I rummage through the cabinets making unnecessary noise, slamming the doors shut as I move down the line. My brother sleeps like the dead and can sleep through any raucous I can make.
Now that I’ve started the coffee maker for myself, set out a bowl, box of cereal, and spoon for his highness I head back upstairs. Instead of turning into my room on the right, I turn left.
Again taking no care to be gentle with his door. I go straight for his sleeping form tangled in a mess of blankets, and smack him squarely on the forehead with an open palm. It makes the most satisfying sound, and I can’t stop myself from smirking.
He jolts straight up into a seated position, his hand goes to his head and rubs the mark making its slow rose red appearance. I smile with self satisfaction.
“Vince? Why do you feel the need to do that?” he whines.
“You know why.”
He’s scowling now, his hair erect in all directions despite its short length. His eyes are bright despite the hour. Our lips and shimmering blue eyes are all that we have in common.
“A poke to my shoulder would be as effective,” he said.
“Not nearly as fun, or satisfying,” I call over my shoulder as the coffee calls to me, “Take a shower Teddy, you stink!” I echoed down the hall.
“Do not!”
The telling squeak lets me know he’s still crawling out of bed to do as I’ve asked. All in all he’s not that hard to take care of now, emphasis on the now. A few years ago, was a different story. He fought me all the time, he was young so was I, and we were still trying to figure out how to live with each other. Considering we are both still alive I'd call that a win.
As usual after half of my coffee’s gone; he is presentable, and seated at the kitchen table. Some days I feel up to making more for him than cereal, but I was out late last night. I had not returned until the early hours of today, and can't muster the energy to do it, even with the coffee.
“Don’t forget about coming to my school tonight,” he tells me between bites.
“What the fuck for?”
“For the same reason I told you last week,” I could see him rolling his eyes.
I knew exactly what he was talking about. Unlike Pops, I will never forget or be absent. No, this was only to tease, as a brother has a right to. So little is normal in our lives. When we became each other’s only family it seems both of us felt we needed to grow up. So when we banter I hold firm to the youth I felt I missed out on and I pull his to the surface; even if, for only a few minutes.
“You didn’t tell me anything about having to go in. I have plans, actually a date,” I wiggle my eyebrows. He sees through me. I haven’t been on a date since…shit, it’s been since I was eighteen since I went steady with anyone. One nighters on the other hand, I ran out of fingers and toes to count on a long time ago. It came with the territory. Damn, I should have said I was going to get laid. That would have been at least believable, I need more coffee.
His eyes look bored, “It starts at seven.”
Picking his bag up from the floor by the door, he places his hand on the doorknob, and he looks back at me.
“Don’t be late,” a small smile tilts his lips, and with that, he’s gone.
That kid is way too serious for his age; he needs to loosen up. Grumpy old men are more entertaining to fuck with. At least they will have a ready comeback. I wonder what to do about that as I make it back to my bed. Despite the coffee buzzing in my veins, I close my eyes and I'm out again within seconds.
I wake, this time to a different noise coming from my cell.
“Hello?” I grumble.
“Get your ass up Kid, I need you for a job,” the voice strong, authoritative, and one I knew well before I took orders from it.
“Be there in ten Ric.”
“Make that twenty. Your ass needs coffee. And probably a shower,” the silence following confirms that he’s hung up.
I lay limp on the edge of the mattress for a few seconds to allow myself to wake a little before attempting anything. I run my hands down my face, and smack at my cheeks a few times for the hell of it. Shower or coffee first? Who was I kidding. Knowing it couldn’t have been more than a few hours ago since I made the coffee. I look down to my phone again, and I groan as it tells me it’s only been an hour since Teddy left for school. If I didn’t need the fucking money I wouldn’t even bother. With the clubs funds, and the part time bartending job, I’m hardly making ends meet. I’m stretching myself too thin.
Luckily, the coffee is still warm since I forgot to turn off the machine. The hot plate, keeping it nice and toasty. Pouring me a cup to-go, I head back to my bedroom in search for something to wear. Laundry has to be on my list of priorities sometime this week or neither of us will have anything to wear. Grabbing the shirt I wore three nights ago, I pull it up over my head. Ric can deal, because I won’t be taking a shower until later to relax me. Grabbing a pair of socks I pull them on, and my worn leather boots follow. Before walking out of the house, I grab my leather jacket with the club brand, a white gear with wings and in the middle reads Lost Angels MC ~ Chillowakie Ohio, and lastly my coffee.
Twirling the keys in my palm I walk over to Pops old Harley. The paint black and chipped, the appearance of rust in some spots but I’ve made it my own. No one gives me shit about it anymore, as I roll into the parking lot of an oversize warehouse on the upper east side of town. It’s the only building around for at least a mile. I ascend the steps one by one to the outer side door, not bothering with going into the clubhouse below to see Ric.
I can hear his heavy sigh. He hates when people use this door; but, in the mood I’m in I couldn’t care less. Ric is an attractive guy for his age. He’s in his sixties, but he is still lean. His silver hair trimmed atop his head never a hair out of place. Even his fucking mustache is always trimmed to perfection. The only thing rebelling aside from his tattoos is the five o’clock shadow he seems to always have. I know it’s because of his old lady that he is so put together all the time, the five o’clock shadow is his way of rebelling. I remember him before he meet Martha. He was wild, erratic, not caring what his appearance was. Like that he scared people, but after he meet Martha it all changed. He even could pass off as respectable in the circles we rode in. He told me once that the love of a good woman comes in and takes over. It's a shit storm that changes more than having a warm body at night. If she loved you there was nothing she wouldn’t touch in your life, and in the end you’re thankful for it. I wouldn’t know. I didn’t even know the love of my Momma for long. She was the only woman that had been in my life that left a lasting impression. Shit, no one to even stay longer than a few months at a time.
“What’d you call me down here for Ric?” I say before he can bitch at me for coming through the wrong door.
“We’ve had a report come in that there’s a punk down at the high school that was getting a little too hands-on with one of the guys nieces, Brianna. I need you to go rattle his cage, and make sure he keeps his hands to himself from now on.”
“Fuck Ric. You do realize it's several hours before they even get out! I could still be in bed sleeping.”
“Yeah, you little shit, I know. That's why I have another job for you. When you ask for more shit to do, I'm going to deliver. By the time you're done with the first, the kids should be out. Unless you were bitching for no reason. I can always give it to someone else.”
“Shit, sorry Ric. Rough night.”
“So is your bitch fit over?”
“Yeah, I'll take it.”
“That's right, like the bitch you are,” there was a twinkle in his eyes. The prick.
“Whatever. So what's the job?”
“My brother’s son twisted his ankle and can't do his job today. He needs someone to fill in,” Ric pauses for effect, “He mows lawns,” he says stoned face, as if I give a fuck doing hard labor once in awhile, “He's only fifteen and needed the money,” he shrugs.
“I'll take it.”
“Good,” he hands two folders in my direction, “The mowing you can do on your own. However, for, the punk at the high school, I want you to bring one of the guys along to cover you if need be. Remember -”
“I got it. Always have your exit buddy,” I roll my eyes. That strategy is one we owe to one of the member’s daughter that insisted her daddy have an exit buddy at all times. Ric thought it was such a great idea he had us all pairing up every time we went out on a job. It was being smart, but I could do without the Disney movie reference.
That’s what we get for being in small town America. Most of us law abiding, and the majority of club members have families of their own. There are only six of us left without old ladies, or wives. Only five without kids or grandkids to look after.
“When’s the next time money is going to come in?” I hate to talk about finances with him, but I was already getting low on cash.
“There’s a big job going down a few nights from now, the revenue from it should be the day after. Why you having issues?”
I wave a dismissal at him, “Remember, you can’t use me tonight for anything, I have to be at Teddy’s school.”
“The kid’s not in trouble is he?”
“Nah, parent teacher conference. I missed the meet and greet in August, so I finally get to meet his teachers. He behaves so well that I never have to go in there but twice a year.”
“I don’t blame him. That what you're wearing?”
“Yeah, why?” I look down at my attire, and I now notice I grabbed my holy jeans.
It’s going to have to do, because I’ve got nothing else. To be fucking honest with myself, I don’t even know what happened to the other pair I have. Buried under a pile somewhere I’m sure.
“Dressed like that you’re certain to make an impression,” Ric smirks, and chuckles deep as I flip him off, “Let's hope they all have vaginas. I swear I saw your balls dangling there for a second.”
“Fuck off, they’re not that bad. Are any of the guys downstairs?”
“Fuck if I know, you should have come in the front door. Then you’d already know if they were,” he shakes his head to get back to whatever paperwork it is that has to be maintained.
“Whatever,” I mumble. I go through the door I entered just to piss him off.
“You’re a fucking prick you know that!” he shouts. His voice is muffled by the steel door, but I can hear him well enough to make out the tone.
“You should fucking lock it if you don’t want anyone walking through it,” I’m far enough away that his next response doesn’t reach me. See? Grumpy old men are way easier to goad.
When I make it around the building to the front door, I don’t bother going all the way in the double doors to search for someone to come with me. Scanning the room, hoping to see Bear. Luckily, it didn’t take long to spot him because the beast of a man sticks out in the crowd.
“Bear!” I call over the music.
His head whips around, and I wave him over. Bear is massive, you’d think he’d be the meanest son of a bitch in here. Not only was that not true; but, unless severely provoked, he was sugary sweet to the point of being disgusting. He is as well groomed as Ric. Bear has the most inviting smile that compliments his lumberjack beard and stash. Hardly any tattoos, and all of them can be hidden with clothes if he chooses. Who fucking knows how he got roped into the club. But he’s the one that I’ve got the most comradery with and I am thankful he’s around.
“Feel like going on a job with me later to scare the shit out of a teenager?”
He gravels out an affirmative.
“OK. Meet me at my place about three o'clock.”
I head back to my house to grab my workout shorts and cage. My 4x4 is a bit rusted but runs like a champ for being in its 30's like me. I only use it in the colder months or for jobs such as this. Twenty minutes later I'm at the first house on the list.
An older lady in a mumu greets me, and offers me some cookies. I feel her gawking at my ass as I walk back and forth with her push mower. The rest of the day followed suit. The only thing that changed was the type of drinks and cookies when I knocked on their door. I discovered the more skin I showed the more tips I received. If I could have done it naked without being arrested I would have, although I doubt these dirty birds would have ratted me out. Needless to say, my shirt after the second stop didn't make it back on, and my shorts rested very low on my hips as the day went on. I call it an experiment, but either way I wasn't against using my body to make a little more money. I had a kid to support after all. One hundred and thirty four dollars richer, I make my way home to shower and change. I make it just in time to see Bear rolling up in my driveway.
Greeting him with a nod, I pull my shades from my jacket pocket, and pull them on.
“Let’s do this.”
We draw a few stares as we make it through town, and as we sit across the street for the school to empty. I just hope whoever we're here for doesn't notice us. That would make this harder. As luck would have it, our target was talking to his buddy, completely oblivious of our presence. Getting off our bikes to be less conspicuous, we follow behind at a slow pace.
He must have sensed us, because our target, Grant, looked over his shoulder, and without even a goodbye to his friend took off.
I sigh and look up at Bear, “Why do they always run?”
Being that he’s a man of little words he shrugs and grunts. I shake my head.
“Looks like he’s headed towards Hill Ave. I’ll loop around and cut him off. Do me a solid and make your way to the side he ran through,” I take off without needing to hear his response. I knew out of all the guys at the club he would have my back. I catch up to Grant as he’s about to fly by. I reach out and snatch him by the collar. Out of breath, I wait patiently as he fights to get out of my grasp. When he accepts defeat, his body mirrors and slumps in my hold. Bear positions his body to shield the better part of our conversation from anyone that may be looking in our direction. I let go of his shirt to pull him closer. Wrapping my arm around his neck, I start to walk even closer to Bear.
“So. I heard about you and Brianna,” I growled.
“W….hat,” he stammers out, “She over exaggerated I’m sure. We only kissed.”
My arms tighten around his neck, and grasp the paper in my jacket pocket, “Unfold it,” I order as I push the crumpled mass into his hand. His fingers fumble with it for several seconds before we can see what it says.
I point out his face in the picture he unfolded, “That you? In fact don’t answer that. That stupid look on your face tells me you’ll lie. How about we take a walk up to Third Street with our new friend here,” looking up at Bear.
Third Street is more of an alley than a street. Anyone living here in town knew that. It was between two apartment buildings, only a few windows faced the alleys, and at this hour there are few people to look out of them. Even though Bear was anything but menacing if you knew him, when he smiled like that, it made even me feel intimidated. I start walking that direction, and Bear follows behind us. A brick wall of a presence. I could feel Grant tense and try and resist but out of the two of us I was well overpowering him. Even if he did find a way to get out of my grasp, Bear would pluck him up before he took his first step.
“Look guys, this is all a big misunderstanding.”
“Oh I’m aware. We are about to clear it up, don’t worry. Once we have a proper talk, there won’t be any misunderstandings again.”
I stop us in the middle of the sidewalk. Shit, not the tears. Uhhhh the snotty ugly kind. We didn’t even make it halfway to Third. I grab him hard at the back of the neck, and smash my fist into his stomach holding back on my swing.
“If you touch anyone, in any way they don’t want, there will be a completely different street we’ll be dragging you to. You won’t be exiting it. Clear?” I whisper in his ear as he’s bent over clutching his stomach.
His frantic jerk of the head, and the snotty mess that he’s lowered too makes me release him.
“Now get out of here, and remember what I’ve said,” he doesn’t dare to look back as he bolts across the street as fast as his legs can carry him.
“I don’t think Ric will be happy,” Bear insists.
I shrug, “He said to scare him, we did that. No need to send him home broken.”
“I’d rather send him home broken, it sends a clear message as to the seriousness of the offence,” said Bear.
I turn half way to look at him, “It’s not like he raped her. He was touching her through clothes.”
“That’s how creeps like him start,” his frown deepens.
“You speak like you know something about it,” silence filled the space between us for a second before I continue, “Plus Teddy is about the same age. I couldn't really stomach doing much more and that's probably why Ric asked me to do it in the first place.”
He grunts in response, eyes narrow, and it's clear he's done talking about it. No use trying to get anything else out of him. Actually, I hardly know anything about Bear. He is a quiet, intimidating man, yet when he does say something he’s sincere. I like him because he speaks little, and always listens to me bitch without complaint. I'm kind of a selfish prick. As we walk quietly back to our bikes, I wonder what I can do to change that.
Neither of us say anything even when we arrive at the clubhouse. We dismount our bikes and walk inside. Weaving through the crowd and various mixed matched furniture, I place myself behind the bar. I tip my chin up in the direction of the other bartender, Echo.
His cool grey eyes catch the movement, and mimics my greeting. His stupid man bun swinging with every motion of his head.
“Hey, you’re cutting it close aren’t you?” he says as he pours a double shot of bourbon.
“Ric had me out doing a job. I just got back,” sliding a beer on the bar I glance at Echo, “By the way I need to be outta here by six thirty.”
He nods his acknowledgment as he works on the next drink. His arms free of tattoos. I'm not even sure how that's possible, but it works for him. He seems to have way too many scars already without adding ink to his skin, “I remember you telling me last week. Don’t worry, I got someone to cover your shift.”
“Cool, thanks.”
For the rest of the time we work in silence. Echo was as conversational as Bear, but with Echo it was obvious he didn't have a need for idle chit chat. Tank was the only one that knew his story, since they were in the military together. Ric being ex military made it an easy decision to welcome them as soon as they requested to join.
We nod again towards one another when the crowd starts to dissipate, and he leaves me to cover the bar. Though, since it’s now a bit after four thirty there shouldn’t be too many people showing up until I’m ready to leave.
Since there are only five people lounging around, I have the opportunity to wipe tables down. The older bikers don’t do much anymore, except fill their bodily tanks with alcohol, ride on the Saturday road trips, and go home to their old ladies or club girls.
Despite this place being an abandoned warehouse Ric knew how to spruce it up. Walking in the door even with everything being mixed matched, it all fit together. The pair of dark auburn couches facing each other and a glass table in-between. Next to the paneled windows there is a set of grey chairs circling a black table. A tan couch and a long steel table with wooden stools. On the opposite wall there are wooden tables, red or dark colored chairs around them. The stairs I should have taken according to Ric, were against the far wall. Last but not least, the bar sits in a niche that is closest to the double doors. Which is where I spend most of my nights tending bar.
The only thing steady about this job is the tips. I have been tempted to start another job elsewhere, but with my association with the club, I doubt anyone would take a chance on me. We’re not known for illegal activity; for the most part, we’re on the right side of the law. Everyone in town knows us and tend to avoid us unless they need something taken care of that the cops are taking too long to deal with.
It was the only choice I had under the circumstances at the time. I brush off the thought and return behind the bar. The rest of the day moves quickly. The regulars drag in; until, as I predicted the flood gates break through about the time I have to leave.
I exhale in relief when Tank jumps over the bar top and lands besides me. Unlike Echo Tank had every available inch of his skin covered in ink. Seems as if he is trying to hide behind them, or overcompensate for Echo. Those two, thick as thieves, but couldn't be more opposite, ”You’re ten minutes late dude, I gotta go.” I throw the towel I had hanging over my shoulder at him. His mohawked head swerves to move out of the way as he catches it, his brown eyes smiling. I hop over the bar to not waste any time.
"Later Kid," a few say as they hit me on the back. Drunk idiots the lot of them, but the only family Teddy and I have.
Chapter 2 -Sara
The moment I saw his booted foot cross the threshold of my classroom I knew I was in trouble. Even before my eyes traveled up his body to his face I knew. Though the moment our eyes met I realize I wasn't only in trouble, I was doomed. I was drawn into his sphere, the gravity that surrounded him I became a part of its orbit, sucked into his world, his stars became my own.
I moved to this small town in the middle of nowhere to get away from his kind. The classic bad boy, the ones that make me go weak in the knees. He was the very definition. Dressed in black leather boots, torn jeans that gives me a peek of ink on his thighs, a simple t-shirt hugging his broad chest, and a leather jacket that hangs perfect off his frame. His face was a contradiction; it was a face of an angel, but I knew that the soul behind it only knew how to sin. His eyes were bright, brighter than the bluest sky on the clearest day. His chestnut hair almost hiding them from view. High cheekbones, straight nose, and some of the most luscious lips I’ve ever seen. Lips like that should be banned from ever being on a man. They only had one purpose, and I fought every fiber of my being to stay where I was and not put those lips to the test against mine.
I turn my gaze from his, back to the parent still sitting in front of me in the plastic chair by her daughter. Disregarding the speculative look she gives me I press on, and quickly resume our meeting where it had left off. I thanked her for coming, and told my student I would see her next week.
I wait until they leave to lift my head again. My body already humming with the knowledge of his presence. I allowed my eyes to drift to him as he sits in one of the seats meant for students in the back of the room, his feet lounging on the table top. The boy I knew as Teddy sat beside him.
Besides from their eyes, you wouldn't think these two were even related. Teddy is the opposite of the captivating man. Short hair close to his scalp, and grey rimmed glasses which set tilted more to one side since his nose has obviously been broken at least once. Teddy is tall and there isn't much of him that's muscle. Every time I have seen him walking in the hall he has a book in hand as if he is trying to forget where he is. Teddy is the smartest student I have in my class. I speculate he reads all the material before hand to prepare for his classes.
They start to move towards me, and I try to keep my eyes on Teddy. Knowing out of the two he's safest. As they both take their chairs in front of me, I can't resist the temptation. My eyes go to his lips again, as they inch their way up at one corner. I snap back to reality and hope he didn’t notice my stare.
"Hi. Teddy, who have you brought with you today?" I ask with a smile.
"Ms. Halaway, this is my brother Vince."
"Ms. Halaway, huh? Anything else I can call you?" for fuck sake, can my panties get any wetter in the presence of this man? The smooth cadence of his voice has my knees wanting to buckle. I lean against my desk before looking over to him. I try and make it a smooth transition, but by his smirk, I didn't succeed.
"No. Ms. Halaway is perfect for this meeting," I shove down the shiver when he gives me a smile, meant to rattle me.
Looking back over to Teddy again, "This is a night for me to talk to a parent. Were neither of them available? I'm not sure if it is appropriate to talk to your brother," Teddy has hunched his slender figure in his chair, and averted his gaze, as if I’ve said something to upset him. I try to analyze the exchange to discover the trigger, but nothing stands out.
Vince speaks again and it's not smooth anymore, in fact it has a hard edge that is cutting, "I'm the kids guardian. Shouldn't you know these kind of things about the kids in your class?"
I blanch at his tone. Teddy is the quietest student in my class. He is smart, not a troublemaker, and I never have to check up on him. I've had no reason to view his file and I would need a valid one to access them. I shake my head and decide to ignore his rude outburst. Though I suppose I deserve it for my inquiring remark.
"I'm glad you could come to this meeting then. It shows you're dedicated. Teddy is the best student I have."
"I already knew that. Aren't you going to answer my question?" his eyebrow raises, and his face is stone.
"Vince…," Teddy’s voice comes out in a hiss and for several tense moments they stare at one another. The tension fills the room until Vince looks over to me waving his hand for me to go on. I look at Teddy, who is smiling at me to offer a semblance of reassurance to proceed, as if I’m the student.
I bite the pad of my thumb unsure, but I go on, letting my hand fall by my side once more, “Ummm, as I’ve said your brother is the best student I have. He’s always prepared for class. The only thing that he may want to work on is interacting with kids his own age outside of class assignments, but he’s always great in group studies when he has to work with others.”
“So he’s great at talking to others, but he needs to work on it?” Vince says with a raised eyebrow.
“When the lesson requires him to interact, he’s fine. It’s obvious to me that he doesn’t have an issue with the actual communication. I suppose I mean for him to be more social. Teddy and I have spoken on it at length and he knows I have my concerns. He has no one around his age that he interacts with.”
“He’s too smart for them, they can’t keep up,” he crosses his arms over his chest, arm muscles flexing, and I need a second to gather my thoughts.
“He needs to learn to interact socially despite his intellectually driven seclusion,” I will not back down. Teddy knows he needs to have this skill for when he gets out in the world, he’s agreed already, and has started working on it. We’ve even talked about his progress in detail. I wonder why Teddy hasn’t told his brother.
Glancing at Teddy his eyes are turned down zoned in on a spot on the desk he’s sitting at. I’m about to change the subject to get Teddy engaged again, but Vince takes my musing to his advantage.
“Once he gets to college he’ll branch out, that’s when it usually happens anyhow?” in the end, it comes out as a question rather than a statement. Either he never had an issue with socializing, which with how gorgeous he is that may very well be the case; or, he’s never been to college and from the looks of him that is doubly possible.
“That may hold some truth, but it may still be a good idea to practice now," I wait for a possible rebuttal, or even a scowl, but I receive neither.
"Do you need anything from me or have any questions?” I say to fill the silence.
Again, the silent exchange happens between brothers. When it breaks and Vince stares into my eyes for several seconds that makes it feel like hours have passed, I get sucked in and consumed by him, and forget my surroundings. When he shifts his eyes back to Teddy, our moment dissipates, and I feel foolish for how lost I was in him.
“Not tonight. Thanks,” his tone is unaffected. It seems I am the only one rattled. As if on cue they stand and leave. Why do I feel like my life is a snow globe that is about to be shaken for all it’s worth?
⨳ ⨳ ⨳
Despite the numerous parent meetings I had after Vince, his was the only one that I could recall from the blur of faces. Kicking off my shoes the moment I walk in my little house, I let out a heavy sigh of relief. Tonight I don’t even bother turning on a single light until I enter my bedroom. My goal is to get into that bathtub, soak, and forget my stress riddled day. Most of all, forget my encounter with the sinful angel.
Turning on the tap, I strip off my clothing, place my glasses on the counter but leave my hair up in pins. The water is blissfully hot, and my muscles sing out hallelujah! Dealing with parents is the hardest part of my job. Expressing my opinions about their kids and they always feel like it’s a slight against them no matter what I say. Being criticized by so many different personalities, and responding accordingly to soothe them; It is completely draining. There are times I want to quit, but I’ve been through too much to not follow through with this career choice.
I sink further into the tub where I can feel the water wet the edges of my hair line. It feels good to lay here and not think. Thank God tomorrow was Saturday. Meaning, I reserve nothing on my schedule. Sometimes you need a day off to feel human again. Pajamas, eating whatever the hell I want, and binge watching Netflix are the only things on this teacher's agenda.
Sunday I will resume my class planning, grade papers, and plant my ass in front of the television for a completely different reason. I’m sure my glutes will be burning if the super energetic instructor has any say in the matter. It almost makes me want to groan in agony now to get it out of the way. Thinking of the word groan has my mind filling of Vince once more.
My nipples pucker thinking about those eyes staring at more than just my body. Jesus, I needed to get this under control. If I didn’t I was sure to have wet panties and my nipples saying hello to students. And why did that make me hot all over? It’s like my body is taking that as a challenge. I know better, but my body doesn't care.
As if falling into accordance, my fingers graze the tight peaks of my breasts and they grow impossibly tighter at the gentle provocation. Something else tightens as well and it’s much lower. This tightness is almost painful. It’s been a long time since I've serviced myself and I wish it were by choice. But since I've started this job in this very small town it's been hard to steal a second of relaxation.
My other hand meets the curls between my thighs and my breath starts to grow heavy, almost needy as it mingles in the steam of the bathroom. My heart is racing in anticipation and I put it swiftly out of its misery. I groan as I buck into my own hand needing more.
“Fuck,” I say on an inhale. My body heats impossibly hotter under the already steaming water and I feel I would faint. The pleasure rushing to my head; It should have made me pause but I couldn’t stop now. Forgetting my nipple altogether, they were so achingly hard there was no helping them anyways. My other hand aids in spreading myself wider as the other uses two fingers to rub the tight bud that is pulsing in time with my heartbeat. First it’s a leisurely stroke, but as the ache becomes most unbearable I tighten the circles. Within seconds the speed intensifies.
The sharp ache of my impending orgasm sits teetering on the edge. When my mind should be blank, all I can see is his piercing blue eyes, his smug smile, and before I have a say my orgasm crashes over me. His name shouted into the quiet of my little bathroom.
I would hang my head if I was the least bit ashamed. But I couldn’t have blamed a single woman if she were to masturbate to his handsome face. As long as I don’t actually do anything with him in the physical sense, I was staying true to myself. Plus it's not as if I could stop my subconscious from bringing him up and I suspect if I tried it would rebel even harder next time I tried to attempt my hand at masturbating.
Wrapping a towel around my body I let the water drain. Finally, I take my hair out of its up-do, and put on a pair of shorts and tank.
With the late night bath and accompanied orgasm my muscles are loose. The bed calls to me and when my body snuggles into the mattress with sheets draped, it takes only minutes before unconsciousness takes me.
