Stirred Up (2 page)

“Not this time around, but tomorrow will
probably be another story,” he said, his eyes warm on her. “Enjoy
your freedom now.”

“You’re a terrific teacher,” she blurted.
“I’m looking forward to working with you.”

It was pretty much out of nowhere, so no
wonder he looked surprised. She blushed, her own eagerness
embarrassing her. She sounded like a twelve-year-old.

He smiled, his handsome face softening into
boyish delight. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to spend every
day waiting for him to smile at her like that.

“I’m looking forward to it as well,” he said,
holding her gaze.

She stood there, frozen for several seconds,
before turning and hurrying out of the room and away from the one
man who could apparently turn her into a blithering idiot.

Luckily, she managed not to do anything
embarrassing that week. Her only job was to sit and observe, which
she did until her head ached, but Jason was good, better than the
teacher she’d observed last semester, and watching him wasn’t
exactly a chore.

She stuck around Wednesday and Thursday
afternoon to go over lessons for the next week, plan which classes
she’d teach and help grade papers. By the time Friday afternoon
came around, she’d figured out that Jason was a supremely mellow
guy. Nothing seemed to rattle him, which was one of the reasons he
was so good at what he did. He cared, but he didn’t get stressed.
Definitely something to strive for, though some of that would come
only with experience.

At four o’clock on Friday, Jason leaned back
in his chair and stretched. “That’s enough for this week. Let’s get
out of here.”

Cheryl tore her gaze away from where his
shirt had ridden up, briefly exposing the ridged muscle of his
abdomen. She stood up so quickly her chair fell over.

“Sounds good,” she said, righting her chair
and praying he wouldn’t notice her blush.

Jason turned off the lights and together they
walked outside, wished each other a good weekend, and walked to
opposite sides of the parking lot. She got all the way to the car
without looking back at him, and then the growl of an engine had
her turning around.

She was just in time to watch Jason ride away
from the school on a motorcycle. Like he needed to be sexier, for
God’s sake.

She was still trying not to think about Jason
when she unlocked her apartment door and stepped into the heavenly
air conditioning. It was four-thirty. The question was, how did she
go from worn-out student teacher to sex kitten stripper in the next
two hours?

Hopefully the change of costume would help.
Superman needed his tights and cape, and she needed…her thong?

Someday she wouldn’t have to strip, but she
wasn’t getting paid for her teaching, and she still had bills to
pay, not to mention her two Monday classes. Four years was way too
long to be stripping, but the money was so good it was hard to let
go of. And when she finally quit to teach full-time, she’d be debt
free. Not many students could say that these days.

After a quick sandwich in front of the TV,
she grabbed her duffel bag and made the twenty-minute drive from
Henderson to Vegas, where the Pink Pussycat Gentlemen’s Club sat
right on the Strip.

“Gentlemen, my ass,” she muttered to herself
as she walked under the sign.

She’d been there so long that Steve, the
manager, let her shuffle her schedule every semester. For the next
few months she’d be working the six o’clock to two a.m. shift
Fridays and Saturdays. Weekends were the best for making money, but
it would leave her without a single day off all week. Worse, she
already felt like she had two personalities – Ms. Munro, earnest
teacher versus the big-haired vixen, Cherry.

Making her way through the club with quick
greetings to the bouncers and hostess, she entered the dressing
room.

“Hey, teach!”

“Hey, yourself,” she answered, giving Emily
Chase a hug.

“So how did it go?” Emily asked, turning back
to her warm-up.

Cheryl plopped into one of the armchairs and
watched her, mesmerized as usual by the effortless flow of her
movements. A ballerina until she’d been injured the year before,
Emily warmed-up as she always did, her motions smooth and
controlled. As if she were at a barre in a studio rather than a
cluttered dressing room with chattering strippers running in and
out. She was the definition of class even when she took off her
clothes.

Cheryl sighed, wishing she had that
effortless confidence in herself.

“Okay, I think. I’ll actually get to work
with the kids this time, and the teacher I’m partnered with seems
really good.”

She opened her mouth to tell Emily about
Jason Shaw, and then stopped herself, unsure what she wanted to
say.

Emily glanced over at her.

“What’s with the pensive frown?”

“What? Nothing,” she said, waving her hand
dismissively.

Emily continued to look at her with her x-ray
eyes.

“It’s no big deal,” Cheryl said, throwing her
arms up in the air. “He’s not what I expected, that’s all.”

Standing up, she opened her bag and began
pulling out the stuff for her first set.

“What do you mean?” Emily asked.

Cheryl shrugged and kept her face turned from
her friend.

“I expected some middle-aged guy, but he’s
young, like maybe thirty or so.”

“And?” Emily said, clearly exasperated
now.

“And he’s hot, all right? It’s no big deal. I
just wasn’t–”

“Expecting it,” Emily finished.

Cheryl shot her a look. “Why are you
smirking?”

Emily’s eyes widened, all innocence. “I’m
not. I wouldn’t smirk.” She was grinning now. “It’s just
interesting, that’s all. You never seem affected by anyone. And you
have all those rules.”

It wasn’t precisely true that no one affected
her. Once upon a time she’d been pretty affected by Cutter
Lawrence, one of the bouncers at the club. All the girls had been
into Cutter, but that hadn’t made it any easier when Cutter and
Emily had become a thing. That was all water under the bridge,
though. She was happy for them both, and it was obvious they were
perfect for each other.

“I didn’t say I was affected,” Cheryl said.
“I was just sharing my observations.” She bent over and started
teasing her hair. “Do you have those glasses you wear for sexy
librarian?”

“They’re here somewhere,” Emily said, heading
over to her locker. She rooted around for a minute before producing
them with a flourish. “What’s your act?”

“Sexy teacher.”

Emily laughed so hard the other dancers in
the room looked over at them. “Inspired. If only your hot teacher
knew.”

“Jesus, don’t even say that. That’s my worst
nightmare.”

She wasn’t kidding. Probably no one could
kick her out of the program if she were found out, but it would
raise all sorts of questions and speculation. And if the students
somehow found out, she’d have to leave the damn state. The thought
of it made her feel ill. Which is why this was the last time she
was doing the teacher thing. She just hadn’t had time to think up
an extra outfit for tonight.

“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Cheryl,” Emily said. “I
didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, Cheryl, want a slug?” Nancy called
over, passing her flask to Tina, who took a swig and passed it to
Emily, who took a ladylike sip and handed it to Cheryl.

She definitely needed a slug. It was pretty
much impossible to go on stage completely sober, but over the years
she’d become pretty laid back about stripping. She knew the drill
and no longer needed to drink more than a couple gulps before going
on.

She was running late now, so she quickly
pulled a black skirt and white button-down blouse on over her hot
pink bra, thong and garters. She had her make-up done within a few
minutes and then ran her song list down the hall to Stan, the audio
guy. With just a few minutes left to spare she went back into the
dressing room and fussed with her hair a bit more. It needed to
come down in a sexy swoop as soon as she took out the bobby pin and
shook her head.

Sexy teacher. God. If anyone ever found
out…she looked at her reflection then, really looked.

It was just as well she didn’t get all worked
up over guys. A man like Jason Shaw would always be out of reach.
Guys like him weren’t looking for women who’d just barely made it
through high school and were still in college at the age of
twenty-six. She knew the type of guys who were into her, which was
why she hadn’t gone on a date in nearly a year. It had been longer
than that since she’d had sex, God help her. She might have to do
something about that before she lost her mind, but she’d worry
about that another time.

Stan called down the hall for her to hurry
up. Slipping on her four-inch black stilettos, she ran out, waiting
at the edge of the stage for Nancy to finish. Then Van Halen’s “Hot
for Teacher” started and she strutted out into the blare of music
and lights.

The jolt of energy, the rush of adrenaline
was the same, even after four years. That and the abandon she felt
on stage carried her through each performance, even when moments
before she wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

The crowd was in good form tonight, men
calling “Cherry, Cherry” as she swung around the pole and shook her
ass at the edge of the stage. They looked up at her, lusting,
worshipful, and who knew what else. They were a sea of faces she
had to entertain, so she gave it her best and let herself go, her
frustration and fears chased away by the pounding music and the
certainty that here, at least, she knew exactly what she was
doing.

“I’m going to have you pair up and read each
other’s essay, then take fifteen minutes to discuss whether all the
elements are there.”

There was a chorus of groans at this.

Jason continued. “Your homework tonight will
be to revise what you wrote, using the comments you receive in
class. Or not, depending on if you think they were helpful.”

During these instructions Cheryl watched
Billy, a thin boy sitting one row in front of her and to the right.
She’d noticed him last week, too, though she suspected the last
thing this boy wanted was to be noticed. Everything about the way
he held himself betrayed his shyness and insecurity. Even his hair
was too long in front and hung over his eyes, as if it might shield
him from the world.

As soon as Jason announced they’d be pairing
up, Billy started looking around the classroom, his gaze going up
and down the rows of students. The whole time he shifted around in
his seat, as if agitated and ready to jump up at any moment.

Puzzled, Cheryl watched Billy as the students
pulled out their essays and turned toward one another, pairing up.
And then she understood. There were twenty-three students in the
class, and those around him turned away and sought other partners,
ignoring him.

It was clear that he would have no partner
for the assignment, and he’d seen it coming, probably from past
experience. Cheryl remembered this happening on occasion when she
was in school. The unlucky student ended up drawing everyone’s
attention and invariably looked mortified by the whole thing.

Cheryl stood up, figuring she could head all
of that off by asking the two boys near Billy to work with him.
She’d only taken a step in their direction when Billy stood up,
clutching his papers and backpack, and walked over to Jason.

“I don’t feel well, Mr. Shaw. My stomach’s
really bothering me. Can I go to the nurse?”

Jason looked down at him, his expression full
of concern.

“Of course. Let me write you a pass.”

Billy waited, his body tense, then took the
pass and practically ran from the room.

Cheryl sat back down, feeling like she’d let
Billy down. When class was over she told Jason what had happened
and he looked crestfallen.

“Damn, that’s really depressing. I can’t
believe I didn’t notice.”

“It’s no wonder you didn’t. You have the
whole class to deal with, and you were in the middle of giving an
assignment. And to be honest, I think I noticed him because he
reminds me of myself when I was in middle school.”

“Really? Were you that shy?”

“Unfortunately. Shy and red-headed, which was
a winning combination. But by high school I’d hardened into a real
badass with a whole other set of issues.”

She laughed, letting him know she was poking
fun at herself, but the moment all that was out of her mouth she
wondered why she’d said so much.

Jason raised his eyebrows but let the subject
drop.

“Has he always been like that?” she
asked.

“He just moved here, so he’s probably having
trouble adjusting. My guess is he doesn’t have any friends yet.” He
sighed, looking pained. “I hate to say it, but I wouldn’t be
surprised if some of the guys are giving him a hard time. Kids like
him don’t usually get through high school unscathed.”

“I know. Poor kid,” she said, wracking her
brain for some magic bullet. Of course there was no such thing, but
that didn’t mean they should do nothing.

“From now on I’ll either avoid pairing them
up or I’ll assign groups myself,” Jason said, and her heart
lightened a bit knowing he was taking the situation seriously.
“I’ll talk to the other teachers, too, so they can keep their eyes
open.”

“Maybe we should ask the nurse how often
Billy’s down there” Cheryl suggested. “If he’s going there a lot,
it might mean he’s having problems in other classes, or even at
home.”

Jason ran a hand through his hair, further
disheveling it. He looked tired and worried, but when he looked at
her, he was smiling warmly.

“You’ve been here less than two weeks and
you’re already carrying your weight. Not too shabby, Ms.
Munro.”