Teach Me a Lesson (16 page)

“Then you both resorted to name-calling, and, Melody, you slapped the can out of Eric’s hand. Have I got all that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Eric said.

Melody gave her characteristic nod.

Lance turned to his assistant principal. “Mrs. Sloan, under the circumstances, what is your recommendation?”

“One-day suspension for both of them,” she said immediately.

Suspending Smith’s stepson could be a political fiasco, but the boy had admitted to provoking Melody. Though she’d provoked him, too. Lance wasn’t about to show favoritism to Eric simply because of whose son he was.

“And a parent conference,” Alice added.

The parent conference might indeed be more frightening to the two teenagers than the threat of suspension. “I concur.” He looked at the two combatants. “Your parents will be contacted to arrange for your pickup as soon as possible. This is not a holiday. You will be required to complete all homework assignments from your teachers. Mrs. Sloan will make the arrangements to have your parents meet with us. You will not be included in that discussion. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Eric answered.

Melody didn’t move for a moment, didn’t acknowledge the punishment in any way. Until he was about to dismiss them. “Eric didn’t touch me. I was the only who did anything physical. He shouldn’t get the suspension.”

“If Mrs. Sloan hadn’t shown up, I would have slapped Melody. Or worse,” Eric said.

Jesus, they were both defending each other. Lance didn’t believe for a moment that Eric would hit a girl. He’d figured that out in the first five minutes of the interview. But the mutual support was a good sign. Perhaps the problem was already halfway to being solved.

He considered them a moment. “I will delay your suspension until tomorrow. We’ll have both your parents in here, discuss the situation, and I’ll make the final decision then. You’re dismissed.”

When Alice would have followed them, he signaled for her to close the door and stay while he punched the intercom button. “Mrs. Rivers, please call the parents and set up a conference for tomorrow.” In the office outside, Melody and Eric would be able to overhear Mrs. Rivers making the phone calls. A little fear went a long way.

He turned back to Alice. “Charlotte told me you’d discussed the situation last week.”

“Yes. We agreed it wasn’t an easy fix. But we both believed that at least if there was a dialogue going on between Melody and Charlotte, it wouldn’t come to this.”

“You should have let me know it was Eric.”

She tipped her head. “Because of who he is?”

“Yes.”

“You think there’ll be a stink?” Her mouth pinched in a worried line.

With Smith, yes, there could be a stink, but Lance would deal with it. “I simply like to be informed.”

“Sorry. It didn’t really occur to me.” She tapped her lip. “I’d like Charlotte to be there tomorrow, since she’s talked to both students.”

“Good idea.”

“If you could have Mrs. Rivers call me when she’s got a time set up, I’ll let Charlotte know.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he’d call Charlotte himself—a good excuse to hear her voice—but it was totally inappropriate. “You can tell Mrs. Rivers on the way out. Thank you for bringing the issue to my attention as quickly as you did.”

She nodded her head in salute and made a half turn as if she intended to leave before slowly reversing back to him. “Eric’s a good kid.”

“I feel the same way.” Despite his stepfather, he’d turned out well.

She was not a pretty woman, but something softened on her face as she said, “And I think Melody’s actually a sweet girl. She just needs help.”

“I realize that, too.” The question was how best to provide it.

13

THE CALL TOOK LONGER TO COME IN THAN LANCE HAD FIGURED IT
would. Smith didn’t get on the horn until almost three in the afternoon.

“What the hell is going on, Hutton? My son, involved in a fight? Impossible.”

Last Wednesday, he’d been Lance. Now he was merely Hutton. “He’s admitted it. That’s why I’ve scheduled a parent conference tomorrow.”

“It’s out of the question,” Smith barked. “Don’t you know how busy I am?”

As chairman of the school board, Smith was an excellent delegator. He spent most of his time drumming up support for pet projects and attending so-called business lunches at the country club.

“If you don’t feel it’s important enough for your attention, I’m sure your wife’s attendance will be more than adequate,” Lance delivered the slam.

Smith fell for it. “Of course I’ll be there. Give me the details.”

“The details have been explained to your wife. I suggest you discuss it with both her and your son tonight.”

“Goddammit, Hutton.”

He knew Smith’s intention, to insert himself into Lance’s game plan, to direct what happened in tomorrow’s meeting. “We’ll cover it with you and Melody’s parents as scheduled.” With Smith involved, they needed Lance’s mediation; otherwise the man could become combative.

“If you suspend him, Hutton, you better have a damn good reason.”

“I’ll be fair and impartial. But we
will
work this out with the girl’s parents in attendance as well. You don’t want it to appear that I’m showing your stepson favoritism.”

Smith grumbled unintelligibly. Appearance was of utmost importance to the man. “I’ll be watching your every move, Hutton.”

“I have no doubt.” Lance wouldn’t let it sway his judgment over what was best for his students. Never had, never would.

He’d already concluded that he would not suspend Eric. The boy hadn’t hit back, he’d defended Melody, and taken blame for his own actions. At most, Lance might send him to detention.

It was Melody he hadn’t decided what to do with. She’d been in detention more than once. It hadn’t helped. By strict definition, what she’d done was considered violence, punishable by suspension. She was, however, a girl in crisis, and he was less concerned with following stringent rules and more concerned with doing what would best help the student. A year ago, she’d been bright, energetic, good grades, glowing reports from her teachers. He doubted any of them would recognize the girl who’d been in his office today.

He was more inclined to sentence her to two days a week with Charlotte.

It was a sentence he wouldn’t mind serving himself. An hour in her office, the door closed, the blinds pulled, anything could happen. And he would make sure everything did.

Of course, it was a fantasy. Reality was dealing with Eric and Melody. And their parents.

* * *

“HELL,” CHARLOTTE SAID. “I TOLD MELODY I WAS GOING TO TALK TO
Eric, and she said it was fine, that I could discuss anything I wanted, as if she didn’t give a damn whatsoever.” She’d been afraid it would backfire, and it had.

Lance’s voice came as a delicious rumble against her ear. “Obviously she gave a very big damn.”

Curled up on her sofa, a blanket over her knees, she wished she could see Lance’s face, but all he’d deigned to give her was a call this evening.

Alice had phoned in the afternoon to let Charlotte know about the latest altercation and the parent conference at two o’clock tomorrow. Good God, the situation was escalating rapidly. Charlotte saw it as Melody hitting out in frustration, but it was a troubling trend.

Because he couldn’t see her, she put a hand to her forehead. It hadn’t been a good day. First, Jeanine had made absolutely no progress since her last session. She was no longer willing to concede that fantasy might work, no matter how Charlotte tried to extol its virtues, from personal experience, no less. And now this.

“I’m not blaming you, Charlotte.”

She wasn’t Miss Moore now. She was his employee. “I didn’t realize who Eric’s stepdad was either.”

“I know that, too, and I said I’m not blaming you.”

But she was blaming herself. She didn’t pay attention to school politics. It was one of the reasons she’d never considered being a full-time guidance counselor, so she didn’t have to bother with who was grumbling about what.

“I’d like you at the parent conference to discuss your thoughts on what’s happening between Melody and Eric. You’ve talked to them both. You have good insight.”

Blame gave way to her natural instinct to analyze. She was also pleased with his praise. “What did you think of Eric?”

“He’s exceptionally polite.”

“Yes. But what about his attitude toward Melody?”

“He defended her. That was surprising under the circumstances.”

“I think he’s in love with her.”

“In love?” He said it as if he couldn’t fathom that a teenager would even know what love was.

“They’ve been best friends since they were in grade school. He’s terribly upset that she won’t talk to him anymore. I think her problem is her acne. She can’t imagine he would love a girl with a face like hers.”

“That seems rather simplistic. The issues have got to be far more complicated.”

Her explanation was exactly the kind of teenage angst that made sense to Charlotte. “You were never a teenage girl.”

“I was a teenage boy.”

“It’s completely different. You were probably captain of your high school football team with an adoring cheerleading squad at your feet.”

He laughed. “I played basketball, but I wasn’t the captain and the girls didn’t fall at my feet. I was average.”

“You could never have been merely average, Principal Hutton.” He would always have stood out.

“We’re all average except in our own minds. Everyone but you, Miss Moore.”

The compliment made her glow, even if he was pandering to her ego. “Well, I hope the parents can shed some light on the situation.”

He sighed. “Don’t look for anything from Eric’s stepfather. He’s more likely to be an obstructionist and possibly combative.”

“Damn.”

“You don’t know the half of it. The only good thing is that the meeting will be in my office.”

“Isn’t your office too small?”

“It’ll be a tight roundtable, but it’ll work. While I’m confronting Smith, I’ll be able to imagine you spread over my desk the way you were on Friday night. With my cock deep inside you.”

She gasped. “Principal Hutton.” Heat rushed through her. “It’s the worst thing to think about in the situation.”

“On the contrary, it’s very powerful. Why do you think I ordered you to come to my office?”

“Because you’re kinky.”

“True, but I wanted images, Miss Moore, memories stored up. Tactile. Olfactory.”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on the meeting.”

“It’ll make everything sharper. I’m hard. I want you right now.”

Her heart began to beat in a fast staccato rhythm.

“What are you wearing?”

“My robe.” She’d just finished a long soak in the tub when he called.

“Panties?”

“No.”

“Touch yourself. I want to hear you come, Miss Moore. Where’s your vibrator?”

“In the bedroom.”

“Go lay down on your bed. I want to hear the hum of your vibrator.”

She didn’t know how he could switch so quickly, one moment engrossed in the issues of a troubled student, then consuming her with sexual desire in the next second. But she let him drag her along.

He created dirty word pictures as she traversed the hall, telling her all the things he’d do to her if he were there. She was damn near ready to come by the time she’d retrieved her vibrator from the bedside drawer.

“Fuck yourself, Miss Moore. I want you on your knees, the vibrator between your legs, and you riding it.”

“I’ve never done it like that.”

“Do you have a mirror by the bed?”

A full-length one covered the closet door. “Yes.” She knelt on the side of the bed right across from it.

“Look at yourself and describe it all to me. Every detail.”

She’d recommended phone sex to her clients, not the paid kind, but the sexy calls between partners. It was another venue in which to add spice. Lance took it to a new level for her, making it visual as well as verbal.

Her robe was old and flannel, green with multicolored dots all over it. So not sexy. “My silky pink robe is hanging open.”

“Can you see your nipples in the mirror? Are they hard?”

She pinched herself, moaned. “They’re tight and hard.”

“Tell me how wet you are.”

“I’m creamy, Principal Hutton, practically dripping.”

“Taste it for me.”

“You’re so naughty.” Charlotte put her hand between her legs, rubbed her clitoris, then licked her fingers. “Sweet,” she whispered. “Slightly spicy and salty, too.”

“Christ, yes, that’s just how you taste, sweet and spicy. Turn the vibrator on and tell me how it feels when you ease down onto it. Like you were riding my cock.”

Charlotte tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could part her folds. Then, watching herself in the mirror, she described exactly what she saw. “My legs are spread wide, and it’s disappearing deep inside me. Ooh. Yes.” She closed her eyes and expressed just the feel of it. “It vibrates all the way up into my stomach. And ooh, God, tipping forward, it’s right on my G-spot.” Her body quaked. Moisture coated her hand where she held the vibrator. “It’s so good.”

“Fuck it for me, Miss Moore.”

She looked at herself again, and instead of pulling the toy in and out, she tensed her thighs and rode, just as if she were riding a man. “Oh my God, that’s so hot. It’s almost like watching that movie I made up in my fantasy, the one of me fucking another man for you.”

“I would never have hidden in a closet taking videos. I’d have stood in front of you while he fucked you doggy style and forced my cock down your throat.” His voice was guttural, strained. He was as turned on as she was.

She loved his visceral description, the dirtiness of his words. He’d come so far for her in such a short time. He hadn’t even used the word
fuck
until the first time she’d taken his cock in her mouth. But listen to him now, coming up with a naughty scenario that topped hers.

“You want to do everything I say, don’t you, Miss Moore?”

“I’m dying for your commands, Principal Hutton.” Then she couldn’t manage anything more than moans, groans, pants, and “Oh God, oh God.”