3

“Where do you think you're going?” He growled, reaching out to grab me by the elbow and spinning me flush against his hot body, my boner hitting his. “We're not done here.”

My eyes slipped down to his pink lips that looked unbelievably tempting right now, butterflies somersaulting and throwing a wild party in my stomach. The intense need rippling through me was crippling.

Oh, God.

I was hot and bothered by my top enemy number one's son. Only that Ryan wasn't only just Principal Churchill's spoilt bun. He was also a twisted angel sent to cut my short days in this school even shorter.

There was gossip in the hallways of Royal Elite, a horrible incident confirmed by my father even, when I asked him. Ryan Churchill, while still a student in Royal Elite slept with a female teacher and got her pregnant. Mummy Dearest, blessed with a heart of stone threw her weight about and falsely accused the teacher of seducing Ryan and had her locked up for weeks, despite the latter's claim on his mistake. The lady was fired and it was revealed later that she'd gotten rid of the baby too and was now in England, set to get married to a Scottish poet. To avoid bad publicity, Principal Churchill pulled her darling son out of Royal Elite not minding that he had less than two months before his final examinations, and shipped him off to Penn.

Ever since then, no one had ever seen or heard anything about him. The female staff was fired and male employees were installed. Principal Churchill never considered that her son could be bisexual.

I wouldn't blame her though. No one had their sexuality stamped across the forehead. I should be focusing more on how Ryan Churchill grew so bold and confident as to wish to give me a blowjob at the back of my old jalopy when we were just meeting each other for the first time.

Ryan almost made me feel as uncomfortable as his Mom did, and even more. The difference between Mother and son was that Principal Churchill made me feel afraid and stupid, while Ryan probed at my most sensitive spot. It seemed as though he could see through me through his ocean-deep blue eyes, and that made me feel... embarrassed. A youngster isn't supposed to make me feel this way, I'm older for Christ's sake!

That could be because I stalked his social media profile the minute Father rounded off the tale about the pregnant teacher. And there were tons of his pictures, either shirtless or only on transparent boxer briefs and I could see his model-worthy dick through the thin fabric. I jerked off to thoughts about him and imagined his cock slamming into me whenever I fucked myself numb with a dildo.

Creepy? Yeah, I thought so.

“I said I want to get rid of that,” he gestured downwards at my pants and my dick responded with a painful nod, pre-come spurting out a bit. He swiped a fingertip over the wet spot and pinned me with a dirty smirk as he brought it up to his lips.

I gasped, turned on to Cloud 9.

Why was he demanding such an outrageous thing? And why the fuck did I care? I'm the older one out of us both. I'm more mature not to let my hormones hold me back from doing what's right.

Or maybe I should give in and let me suck me off? And pretend afterward we hadn't met at all?

What if that doesn't still ward him off and he keeps coming back for more? What if Principal Churchill found out and have me jailed? We were currently risking an evacuation notice back home and this job is the only silver lining we have not to be rendered homeless.

I had so much to lose from this. While Ryan had... nothing. Mummy Dearest might have him shipped off to America and get him a bride to satisfy his urges, while I'd stay back here and rot.

If he were a student, I could have worked it out that maybe he needed a better grade. But even if that happened to be the case, Ryan's brilliance was unequaled. No student, no matter how bright and promising they thought themselves would be able to break his GPA record. He was that perfect kid with the perfect face and the perfect grade.

Even his cock was perfect.

Now he was out of college, I'd guess the next thing on Mummy Dearest's to-do list was landing him a top position in one of the most famous firms in Todos Santos (Yeah, she's that connected) while Ryan himself fucked his way into some sort of a man-whore Guinness Record. He barely had to lift a finger to fend for himself. His entire life was golden.

While mine wasn't even copper. The universe is so unfair.

“No, thanks,” I said, gulping. “It's past dismissal and your Mom might be waiting. I have to get going too, please step out of the way.”

I made to walk past him and this time he didn't intercept. I was clueless as to what his intentions were and it felt like I was digging a hole. A hole in which I would dump a whole lot of dark shit that'd land me in hot trouble. Like the biblical Job, I'd landed myself the top spot in the devil's list, and he would do everything in his power to make sure I sinned.

Tucking myself into my jalopy, I fled the devil. From the rearview mirror, I watched him hike his shirt up and pat his packs once more, cocking his brow in a challenge. My cheeks flamed as I looked away and thrust my feet harder on the accelerator, my russet hair transformed into a dramatic blow-out by the time I guided the vehicle into our driveway.

After I relayed how the day went to Father (without telling him about the meeting with Principal Churchill or her son, of course) I slouched on my bed, phone in hand, waiting for Principal Churchill to call and tell me she saw Ryan and me and she was firing my arse for getting turned on by her innocent son, and also suing me and Father for every penny we had. Or in this case, didn't have.

Dusk came around like clockwork but the call never came. I closed my eyes till midnight, but sleep eluded me like the plague. All I thought about was the gorgeous asshole, Ryan Churchill.

How he looked like the hottest guy ever when he licked my come off his fingertip.

How he looked like the most delicious thing in the world when he rubbed his tan six-pack.

How he came close to pushing my buttons this afternoon. If I'd stayed a minute longer I'd have given in.

After the meeting with Principal Churchill, I'd made up my mind that nothing would cause me to have any personal dealings with the Churchills.

But after this afternoon's encounter, there was no denying it. There was at least one Churchill I wanted to have very personal dealings with.