Her Teacher's Temptation (2 page)

“Are you not
listening to what I’m saying at all? You
lied to me
and now there’s a
chance I could lose my job because of it. Your friend knew, didn’t she?”

I wrung my
hands together. “She did, but she wouldn’t ever say anything, I promise. And I
wouldn’t, either.”

“That doesn’t
really settle my mind on the matter, to be honest. This is my first proper
teaching job out of university. I
need
this, okay? I refuse to lose it
because of some stupid mistake like this.”

“Look,” I was
beginning to get angry myself, even if there was some tension in the air that I
was sure wasn’t just bitterness. Or maybe that was my imagination because
seeing Ollie riled up did things to me that I really needed to control. He was
my teacher now, not the guy in the club I’d have fucked again in an instant if
I’d had the chance. “I’m not going to say anything. There’s no reason anyone
ever has to know about this. Just put it behind you, or something.”

His concerns
were valid and I was being harsh because I was equally pissed off about the
situation. It wasn’t even that I’d spent the rest of the summer wishing I could
see him again, it was that now I knew I could never have him I desperately
wanted to run my hands through that thick hair one more time.

“Please just
get out. You’re just my student now, okay? I don’t want to see you after class
and I don’t want you to call me Ollie or anything along those lines. I’m just
Mr. Wright.”

I really,
desperately wanted to argue, but I nodded instead. Grip tightened on my
rucksack, I left the classroom.

“Sure thing,
Sir.”

Chapter Two

Work was as busy
as ever. My restaurant was relatively high class and so the people dining had
enough money to eat out every day if they chose to, and most of them did. They
required fast and precise service that didn’t leave a lot of time for
daydreaming.

Today I’d managed
both quite effectively.

Meg had bugged
me to tell her the entire conversation word for word when I’d left the
classroom, then rolled her eyes and told me he was a dick and I should get over
him. I could only laugh. He’d had a completely valid reaction, even if it had
shot down my mood a bit.

There had been
no hiding from Meg the fact I was still insanely attracted to him and no
stopping her teasing, either.

“Table Seven,”
I’d been too busy considering how my lesson would go tomorrow that I hadn’t
seen who’d taken their seat there. I’d made a mental note of who tipped well
over the past few months.

Grabbing two
menus from the basket at the side of me and my notepad and pen, I weaved my way
through the packed tables to the corner that they'd reserved. “Hi, welcome to
Napoleon's. I'm Maddie and I'll be your waitress for tonight,” I almost
stumbled over my words when I recognised the ice blue eyes staring into mine.
“Oh, hey Mr. Wright.” He was sat with someone who was a notoriously big tipper.

I definitely
couldn’t ever compete with her.

His
exasperation at seeing me here was evident, surely even to his date. “Hi,” was
all he managed to respond.

“Just let me
know when you're ready to order,” I told him, glancing once more at the black
haired beauty across from me. I knew it was bad when I’d noticed how stunning
she was before having seen her with Ollie. It wasn’t just jealousy talking.

“Will do,” his
voice was clipped and I returned to the front of the restaurant to welcome
guests. This was all painfully awkward.

And I was
bitter because my entire shift I’d been thinking back to the last night we’d
shared together and wondering what it would feel like to be bent over my school
desk.

Scowling, and
half decided that sleeping with random men wasn't something I'd be indulging in
again, I turned my attention to the booking sheet in front of me. I’d served
her plenty of times before, but it was the first time I’d checked to see the
same she’d given. O’Brien. I wondered if she had a prettier first name.

It was easy to
forget about Mr. Wright and his date as all the tables in the restaurant filled
up. I was so busy taking orders, bringing out food and collecting dishes that I
didn't have time to even glance over at their table, unless it was to check
whether they'd finished eating or not.

When they had,
I weaved effortlessly through the room to their private corner. “Are you
finished eating? I hope everything was good for you tonight.” It was my
professional script and I knew it off by heart. Not looking particularly
closely at either person and choosing to stare at the obviously empty dishes
seemed the most appropriate.

“Yes, thanks. I'm
just nipping to the ladies,” she excused herself, slipping out of the booth and
towards the toilets.

“How long have
you worked here?” Mr. Wright inquired as I piled the dishes onto my arm
expertly. I hadn’t expected him to speak.

“A year,” I
replied, reaching across him to collect his empty glass and becoming suddenly
aware of how close we were – my chest was practically in his face. I pulled
back as though my primal urges weren't kicking in and smiled innocently at him.
If that didn’t shut him up, nothing would.

“Ah,” and his
sulky silence was back. Only, after drumming his hands on the table for a few
minutes and staring out the window, he asked, “how come?”

“My mum quit
work when she had my sister, so it's easier for both of us if I have my own
income. I only work three days. And I'm very punctual with my essays, honest.”
I couldn’t stop the teasing tone to my voice. It was just natural around
someone as attractive as him. “Do you want the dessert menu?”

He nodded.
“Yes, thanks.”

I didn't bother
to comment again before whisking away the empty plates which were balanced
precariously on my arms. Retrieving the dessert menus and returning to the
table, I was annoyed to see Mr. Wright's date leaning over the table and giving
him a soft peck on the lips. That ruled out first date, anyway.

I decided to
just peg the woman as his girlfriend for all intents and purposes, no matter
how much the thought irritated me. My scowl deepened as I realised how much it
irritated me that it irritated me.

Barely managing
a neutral expression as I gave them their menus, I prayed that Mr. Wright
didn't notice any change in my demeanour. I didn't want him making any pathetic
conclusions about me. I'd just had a strange day and that was all and the fact
he was angry with me didn’t help. It was all just a big mess.

Returning to
the front of the restaurant in less than high spirits, I kept my eyes
everywhere apart from Mr. Wright's booth. I wasn't allowed to stand and think
for long, because a rough hand had dragged me back a few feet into the alcove
near the toilets.

For a moment I
really panicked, opening my mouth to scream and attempting to get the foreign
hands off me. A chubby hand was slapped across my mouth and I was forced to
meet irritatingly similar brown eyes. “Dad?” Trying to wrench my hand free from
his unfriendly grip was futile. “When did you get back?”

“Your mother had
another child?” He argued with my mum almost all of the time they were together
– not that it was very often considering he lived in Dubai – but this was
something else entirely. He was practically shaking with rage, towering over me
with his stocky build. I was always loathed to recognise my features in his
face. “When? With who?”

“A year ago,” I
answered, grimacing at the realisation I'd have small bruises on my forearm
tomorrow. “And I don't know with who,” I admitted honestly. “She didn't tell
anyone. Not even me.”

“I don't
believe you.” If we’d been somewhere private, he’d have been screaming at the
top of his lungs, but he had the sense to keep his voice in a menacing whisper.
“Of course she’s told you.”

“I don't know,
okay?” I replied, angry that he had the nerve to show up here demanding such
stupid things. It was two years since I'd last seen him and this wasn't exactly
the reunion I'd been expecting. My father worked abroad and never made an
effort to come and see me. He'd made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with
my mother and I. I'd seen him six times my entire life. The fact he was asking
me this question was ridiculous. “Why do you even care?” The words were out of
my mouth before I could stop them and I realised my mistake when his fingers
tightened around my arm.

I'd never known
my father was a violent man, but there was no reason I should. I never missed
my dad, I didn’t know him well enough for that, but this was the first time I’d
ever wished he would just piss off again. “That whore.”

“Maddie?” Ollie’s
voice cut through the tense scene and my stomach clenched. I willed my father
not to do something stupid. “You all right?” When I dared to look at him, he
was glaring at the offending hand my dad had wrapped around my wrist.

“Erm, yeah,
it's fine, this is my dad,” I explained reluctantly. Our relationship probably
spoke for itself considering our position.

My dad eyed
Ollie up and down before spitting out “and who’s this?”

“My teacher,” I
grimaced at the word and watched Mr. Wright's face hopelessly. He was looking
more and more like he wanted to rip my father's arm off me. “Look, I don't know
the answer to your stupid question, okay? Go and ask her yourself.
I don't
know
.”

“Well then find
out,” he ordered me, ignoring Ollie's presence completely. “I'm not leaving
until I know.”

I scowled. “Oh,
please. Of course you are. You'll probably be back on a plane as soon as your
tantrum is over.”

I was empowered
by Mr. Wright's presence and tried to remove my arm, though my dad only gripped
it tighter. “Don't you dare speak to me like that you-”

“Just get off her,”
Mr. Wright interrupted, his voice stern and suddenly a few notes deeper than I
remembered. It was already gorgeous considering his posh Southern accent. I
remembered lying in bed, naked, whilst he stroked my stomach and listening to
that gorgeous voice with great fondness. “And go home. Have some self-respect.”

My dad's grip
only tightened further before he met my eyes with a stormy expression and
released me completely, leaving the building without turning back around.

I’d no doubt
see him again sometime soon.

“You okay?” Mr.
Wright was frowning so hard his forehead gained several wrinkles.

I offered him a
weak smile, touching my wrist gingerly and hoping the bruise wouldn't be too
obvious tomorrow. “Yeah, thanks for that, though. He'll probably be over it
tomorrow, I'm not even sure why he's so annoyed. He's the one who left her,” I
was muttering by the end and I knew that Mr. Wright was watching me carefully
as I surveyed what bit of the restaurant I could from around the corner.
“Sorry, did you actually need the toilet? I need to go and do my job anyway.” I
realised that I was probably holding him up and he was still mad at me. There
was no point in drawing out the conversation.

He was only my
teacher, after all.

“No, I saw him
drag you round here and when you didn't come back, I thought I'd see what was
wrong. Is he always like that?” The concern in his voice touched me ever so
slightly and I found myself giving him a small smile.

“No, but I
haven't seen him for two years,” I admitted. “I've only seen him a handful of
times ever. But no, I've never seen him like that. He wants to know who the
father of my sister is, for some reason,” I explained, waving off the idea.
“Don't ask me why. It makes no sense. He's probably just insane.”

“Oh, well,
hopefully he'll do what you said and be gone tomorrow.” His frown deepened.
“Stay away from him,” he muttered, though of course it was a completely
unrealistic request. If my dad wanted to see me, there was nothing stopping
him. “He seems like a dick.”

I found myself
letting out a chuckle. “Yeah, you got that right. But I really have to go and
work.” I apologised. “My boss is probably looking for me right now. Thanks
again. I didn't want to have to put up with that any longer.”

He grabbed my
arm before I could completely abandon the conversation. “I’m sorry for being a
dick earlier, it was a bit of a shock,” and a valid response, was added unsaid.
“But I hope it won’t be too weird. I’m sure it’ll be normal soon enough.”

“Yeah, I hope
so,” I lied.

Chapter Three

My mum watched
me with fidgeting hands as I finally slumped through the door, my legs aching
from the amount of time I'd spent on my feet this evening.

“He came and
saw you at work, didn't he?” She asked apologetically, cradling my sleeping
sister to her chest in a soothing rhythm. “I tried to warn him not to, I don't
even know how he found out you worked there.”

“He'll have
asked Grandma.” The only reason my father ever came back to England was to see
his mother. Surprisingly, my mother and I also retained a good relationship
with her. It was expected that everything we told her, she'd tell my dad. We
were the only real change in her life at the nursing home she resided in on the
outskirts of the city.

“I suppose. He
didn't do anything, did he?” She gave me a once over. “He seemed incredibly
angry when he called here earlier.”

I frowned, also
giving my mum a quick inspection. I doubted he would have done anything, but I
honestly barely knew the man. It wouldn't have been
too
surprising. “No,
he was just demanding to know who the father was.”

My mum let out
a ragged sigh. “Of course he did. I don't know what his problem is. He left me
to take that stupid job in Dubai, I've waited this long wanting another child,
what did he expect me to do? It's not like I'm in a relationship. It's not like
he should even care.”

Grimacing in
acknowledgement, I moved towards the kitchen to start the kettle boiling for my
dinner knowing she'd follow me. “I don't know. You know more about him than I
do. But he won't stay long, anyway. He has work to do and I doubt he actually
cares. He's probably just momentarily offended, or something,” I tried to wave
off his erratic behaviour.

“Hopefully. Him
taking that job was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She didn't
normally open up about her relationship with my dad, so I listened intently. “I
don't need him sticking his nose in again. It's not like he'd even know the
father if I told him.”

I chuckled. “I
know.” I dug through the cupboards, only to frown when I realised I was out of
super noodles. “I thought I had one packet left. I'm not hungry enough for a
proper dinner.”

“I haven't
walked the dog yet, so if you're going to the shops then you could always take
him.” She hinted without an ounce of subtlety.

I groaned. “I
so can't be bothered,” I glared at my border collie, who had sprung into action
at the mention of a walk. My irritation never lasted long – it was impossible to
resist his sad face when he thought there was even a hint of anger in me. “Okay.
I won't be long.”

Not bothering
to change out of the formal garb I wore for waitressing, I slipped my shoes
back on and grabbed the dog's collar from behind the utility room door. “Come
on, let's go,” I muttered, bracing myself against the biting wind and heading
towards the local shop. I lived just down the road from the only convenience
store in the neighbourhood, which was always a bonus.

As I was
walking down the short path of my front garden, though, I saw an unexpected
figure passing the front of my house. I debated whether or not to call out to
him, but from the pace he was walking, I guessed I was going to catch up
anyway.

I decided that
I'd let the dog get his attention and allowed him to sniff Ollie's hand, smirking
when he jumped a bit at the contact. “Hey. What are you doing around here?” I
wondered if I was being nosy, but there wasn't really anything else to make
conversation about. “As far as I remember, your flat's not exactly close by.”

He chuckled.
“Jemma's house is a few streets away, I'm going to fetch us some wine.” That
must have been the gorgeous woman from dinner. They were definitely in a
relationship. I was surprised I hadn’t seen him around here before, hopefully
that meant they hadn’t been together long.

“Drinking on a
school night?” I teased, the corner of my lips pulling upwards slightly at him.
I had to make an effort not to make this more awkward than it already was.

“I don't have
any lessons to teach tomorrow morning,” he replied immediately, smug tone to
his voice. He probably somehow knew I was in first thing.

“Oh the woes of
being underage.” I complained, knowing we were heading for the same place.

“I'm sure your
fake ID solves most of those problems.” He commented, not
quite
as
accusing now.

“It does,” I
admitted. “But not when I'm at home. My mum has no idea.” There was the off
chance Mr. Wright would get the urge to make an offhand comment to my mum at
parents’ evening or something. I definitely didn’t need that happening.

“Right, of
course. So, um, about your dad-”

“Look, it's
really not a big deal.” This was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “He's
just wound up because he found out my mum had a kid with someone else. He never
stays in England for more than a couple of days, I don't see why this time
would be any different. And he wouldn't do anything,” I explained. “My mum
would have told me if I was in any danger.”

Mr. Wright
seemed to weigh this up before nodding. “Okay,” he conceded. “He just looked
like he wasn't afraid to manhandle you. I guess there isn’t really anything I
could have done anyway.”

“It's fine. I
probably won't even see him again before he leaves.”

“Okay,” he
repeated, sounding equally as unconvinced the second time. I supposed that it
was understandable he was so sceptical, but I doubted my safety would have even
crossed his mind had he not just run into me, so it wasn't a big deal either
way.

“How was your
first day?” I changed the subject successfully.

“All right, I
guess. The classes all seem nice.”

“We are.” I
assured him with a smirk. “Only you did replace the best teacher ever, so, I
mean, don't be offended if people seem underwhelmed,” I taunted.

“You're
kidding?” He demanded instantly, grumbling something under his breath. “I can't
believe it. I was hoping I'd replace some old bat and so everyone would think I
was cool and young,” he whined, causing me to giggle slightly.

“Yeah,” I
crooned. “Shame.”

“This sucks.”

“It sucks for
me too!” I retaliated just as quickly. “You replaced my favourite teacher, and
it's weird, and you don't feel like my teacher.”

“Yeah. I know
what you mean. And then I have to keep running into you, to top it all off.”

I laughed.
“Pretty unlucky.”

The next couple
of minutes were spent in slightly awkward silence until we reached the shop. I
looked up at him pleadingly, in what I hoped was an undeniably cute way. “Would
you grab me a few bags of super noodles?” I asked silkily, trying not to be too
obvious in the way I leaned slightly closer towards him. “So that I don't have
to tie the dog up.”

Mr. Wright
rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Sure,” he agreed, allowing me to give him some
money. “Any particular flavour?”

“Surprise me.”

I frowned and
knelt down beside the dog, allowing him to lick my discontented countenance. It
was odd, being here. Going for a stroll with my teacher. I supposed it was
because I'd only had one lesson. When it came to the point where he was
demanding homework off me and scolding me for listening to my iPod in class I
was sure that the whole teacher thing would sink in and it'd stop being so
weird.

I couldn't help
but let my mind drift back to that night when I saw him, though, especially
when Meg was there giving me suggestive looks. She'd been right, absolutely, in
thinking I was still attracted to him. It was only expected, though, I told
myself. I'd had sex with this man, obviously I thought he was good looking. And
something about him being that much older than me made it oddly more appealing.
It was different. And thrilling.

And I may have
already imagined him fucking me over a school desk once.

Letting out a
displeased sigh, I tried to stop my thoughts turning obscene. To be expected, I
reminded myself once more. It had only been two days.

“Here you go,”
Ollie's voice broke through my mental reverie and I found heat rising unbidden
to my cheeks.

Standing up and
giving the dog another affectionate scratch, I took the bag and change with a
small smile. “Thanks,” I refused to meet his eyes. “I'm guessing you're walking
back again.” It was more of a statement than a question. I wasn't sure whether
I wanted to walk home with him or not.

“Erm, yeah.”

“How old is he?
Or she,” he asked, glancing down at the dog with a soft quirk in his lips.

“Two,” I
replied proudly. “He's cute, isn't he?” I smirked at Ollie and he chuckled.

“Yeah, he is
very pretty. He's yours?”

I nodded.
“Yeah, I saved up for like three birthdays for him.” I confessed with a grin.
“He's great. Though it sucks having to walk him sometimes. Especially after
work and school. Normally my mum takes him in the day, though. I go running
with him every morning.”

I could almost
feel his eyes as they appraised my body, as if searching for evidence of my
exercise, causing a slight shiver to travel up my spine. “I always wanted a
dog. My parents would never let me have one when I was younger. They always
said there'd be too many hairs around and that I'd get bored with looking after
it too quickly.”

I laughed,
pulling out my cigarettes from my pocket. Since I didn't really want my mum
knowing that I'd taken up the dirty habit, I normally smoked when I took the
dog out. “You want one?” I offered, interrupting the conversation slightly.

I frowned when
he shook his head, clearly remembering how we'd smoked in bed after being too
physically exhausted to continue our intimate activities. “I quit,” he offered
by way of explanation.

“How come?”

“I figured I
probably should since I wanted to take this teaching thing seriously. I don't
think sneaking out of the back and ending up smoking with the naughty
students,” he gave me a pointed look, “would do much for my whole 'responsible
adult' image.”

I snorted, but
could understand his point. “But yeah, anyway, about the dog,” I returned to the
original topic before lighting up and making sure I breathed away from Ollie.
It would be cruel to smoke in his face completely – this was probably hard
enough for him already. “You live by yourself now, you could get one.”

He shrugged. “I
guess. I just think it'd be a bit mean since I work long hours.”

“My mum's at
home all day looking after Lily, so he's never really in on his own.” I
realised then that we were practically back at my house.

I opened my
mouth to say an awkward goodbye, pausing outside my house, but was interrupted
by my mum's urgent voice and the slamming of my front door. “I have to go out,”
she informed me, fiddling with her car keys and giving Ollie a suspicious
glance. “Who's this?”

“My new English
teacher,” I replied, trying not to sound too guilty. I wasn't sure how much my
mum knew about my relationships, but I doubted she'd be impressed by the idea
of me having a one night stand with someone I'd only just met. “He replaced
Miss Taylor.”

“Oh, that's a
shame honey,” she said, frowning slightly and opening the car door. “Grandma
wants me to come round because your father is being a bit awkward. Can you just
watch Lily for a while?”

My face fell
into a grimace, though I was glad I wasn't the one having to go and face my
dad's apparent wrath. “Sure, don't stay too long, though. It might make it
worse.”

She nodded
impatiently. “Don't worry, I just want to get this over and done with. See you
later!”

“See you,” I
called after her, though she had already shut the door and started the engine
running.

My mouth
twitched when I saw Mr. Wright's disgruntled expression. “Was she really that
great?”

Chuckling, I
ran a hand through my hair and pretended to ponder it. “She was pretty awesome.”

Mr. Wright
groaned.

“You're just
lucky the majority of people who take English are girls, otherwise you'd have
actually been in for a hard time.”

He quirked an
eyebrow at me. “What exactly are you trying to imply?”

I rolled my
eyes. “I'm home.” I ignored his question and tried desperately not to lose my
neutral expression. “Goodbye, Ollie.”

I turned just
as my cheeks heated up and pulled the dog down the path towards my house. “See
you later Maddie,” I heard his amused reply as I struggled not to hang my head
in embarrassment.