Mason screams something back, his voice shocked and angry, and I grin under my blanket. My door creaks open, and the bed dips under a heavy weight sinking into the mattress beside me. “Jace?” I mumble into the darkness. “No,” he replies instantly, his voice playful. “I’m a dream.” “What are you doing here?” I ask, my body too relaxed to move. His hands glide over me with a gentleness that sends a shiver down my spine. I’m too comfortable to push him away. “Just fulfilling my teacherly duties,” Jace murmurs, pulling me closer. “Gotta make sure my favorite student is alright.” I suppress a smirk and let out an exaggerated huff. “You’re unbelievable.” “Believe me, baby,” he sighs, his hand tracing my back in slow, deliberate strokes. His lips brush against the curve of my neck, and my body sinks deeper into the mattress. As his hand presses into my skin with firm precision, my thoughts scatter under the expert touch. “You can’t ask a man to stay away from his woman, Norali,” he
I wake up to the warm pressure of a head between my legs. A slow, deliberate tongue glides over my clit, teasing, stroking, sending lazy waves of pleasure through my still-drowsy body. Jace’s hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he lounges against the bed like he has all the time in the world. “Jace,” I murmur, my voice husky with sleep, my mind still catching up to what I’m feeling. “Good morning, baby,” he replies, his words muffled against my skin. “You couldn’t stop yourself?” I ask, my breath hitching as his fingers slide up the inside of my thigh. “Just making sure we start our last day of the school year in the best way possible,” he says smoothly, slipping a finger inside me. A sharp gasp escapes my lips. My back arches as a rush of heat blooms deep in my core. And then, his lips wrap around my clit, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, pushing me straight into oblivion. It takes him less than two minutes to make me fall apart. Exactly twenty seconds in
He laughs here, his eyes so friendly. Just a normal guy. A kind person—someone who seems nothing but sweet. Looks can be so deceiving. I stare at the missing poster of Mitch for too long. I know I do. I can feel two pairs of eyes burning into me. I don’t know what to say. They practically dragged me into a small office at the back of the building. No windows, only one door. There’s no way out of here for me. No one knows where I am. “You were his girlfriend.” I look at his mother. Her voice is soft and timid, yet there’s an accusing edge to it. “It wasn’t that serious yet,” I say, keeping my voice level and calm. “He said you were official. For quite a while,” she responds, her tone pointed. “We were only dating for a few days, I—” “A few days? Don’t lie. You were with our son for almost a year until he disappeared,” his father cuts in, his voice sharp. I turn my gaze to him. A stocky man with a square face and thick brows. He looks nothing like Mitch. Neither of them has t
"He's just so hot. I can't concentrate when he talks to me," Lina whispers next to me.I roll my eyes. I really wish they’d stop talking about my brother. Mason had walked past us a few minutes ago, sternly telling us to be quiet while we waited for our next class. Or as everyone else knows him, Mr. Jackson. No one knows he’s my brother, except a few teachers and my best friend, Hannah—who also happened to have a secret crush on him. She is cured, thankfully. Mason teaches Business English and is in a loving relationship with my other best friend, Esme."You think so? He's got nothing on Mr. Adkins. I’d eat him for breakfast," Charlotte chimes in.Okay. I’d rather hear about my brother than Mr. Adkins. And speak of the devil—here he comes.Mr. Adkins, the teacher who hates me the most. I honestly have no idea why. Sure, I’m failing his class, and maybe I don’t cower under his death glare, but other than that, I’m clueless. Still, I can’t stand his voice, and I’m sure the feeling is mu
He ignores my comment and turns his attention back to the class. Without explaining the answer, he carries on as if nothing happened. Another hour passes, and I rest my head on my hand, barely holding myself up, eyes fixed on Mr. Adkins as he talks.He might be an asshole, but at least he's a good-looking one. I wouldn’t call him hot, like my classmates do—his awful personality drops his attractiveness by about 80%. But that remaining 20%... His dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and sharp features are reminiscent of Peter Badenhop and Sahib Faber.He’s always in a black business attire, hiding his build but not the fact that he’s athletic. His muscles flex whenever he writes, and the stubble on his jaw is always perfectly trimmed.The worst part? He knows he’s attractive. That just makes him more unbearable.When the bell rings, the whole class stays seated. They always do with him. He gives an order, and everyone follows.He turns to face us, scanning the room with a sharp gaze. Lina sits
"Take your time; only twenty people are waiting," someone snaps from behind me. I immediately pull away from Hannah’s arms. Even she seems surprised by the interruption from Mr. Adkins. But then I notice we are standing against the door, and everybody is actually waiting for us. "Sorry, sir," I mumble, avoiding his gaze. Trying to be nice to him is going to be harder than I thought. I quickly move to the back of the class and sit down, pulling out my phone before Mr. Adkins calls for silence. -Nora: Hey, Con. Can you help me with math? Exams are coming up, and I'm failing. My phone buzzes almost instantly. -Connor: I'm failing math too. I can help you though. -Connor: This weekend? Fuck sake. Of course. With a sigh, I open my textbook and actually attempt to pay attention. The first thirty minutes go okay, but soon enough, the numbers on the board start blending together. I peek at Hannah’s notes, noticing numbers that aren't even on the board. I frown, completely lost. It
"Wait, you will be tutoring me?" I ask, eyes widening. "Is that a problem?" he replies, walking back to his desk. I hesitate for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. It absolutely fucking is. "Uhh... no, of course not. When are we starting?" I ask after a brief pause. "That keen, are we?" I hear the humor in his tone, his back still turned to me as he gathers his things. "Keen as a bean," I mutter sarcastically. I had hoped someone else would be tutoring me. He turns around and gives me a piercing look, his eyes flicking to my stuff. "Well, bean, hurry up. You've got a book to read." Right. I hurry to the back of the class, gathering my things in a rush. The book is too big to fit in my bag, so I hold it against my chest and walk toward him. He's already waiting by the door. "So... when do we start, exactly?" I ask again for clarification. "I told you. Once you've read the entire book," he says nonchalantly. "The book is, like, 500 pages. That'll take me ages. By the tim
We live in a semi-big house with a nice garden, plenty of space for just Mason and me. There are four bedrooms, so we always have room for guests. Ramon, Mason’s best friend, practically lives here, so one of those rooms is basically his. Esme, Mason’s girlfriend, is over a lot too, although she sleeps in Mason’s bed, along with the occasional... unfortunate noises. Esme recently graduated from law school and works at a small firm nearby. She's still in her party phase and makes sure I get to experience some semblance of a "student life." She even tags along to parties thrown by my friends, keeping my brother's teacher status under wraps like a pro.“A Porsche Cayenne,” Mason says, interrupting my thoughts. “But apparently, he’s got another car too.”"Ah, right," I reply with a bored tone.A dickhead car.Mason turns on The Office as we dig into dinner. We laugh at the show, and by dessert, he’s already in teacher mode. “I need to grade some papers. Want to help?”“What’s in it for me
He laughs here, his eyes so friendly. Just a normal guy. A kind person—someone who seems nothing but sweet. Looks can be so deceiving. I stare at the missing poster of Mitch for too long. I know I do. I can feel two pairs of eyes burning into me. I don’t know what to say. They practically dragged me into a small office at the back of the building. No windows, only one door. There’s no way out of here for me. No one knows where I am. “You were his girlfriend.” I look at his mother. Her voice is soft and timid, yet there’s an accusing edge to it. “It wasn’t that serious yet,” I say, keeping my voice level and calm. “He said you were official. For quite a while,” she responds, her tone pointed. “We were only dating for a few days, I—” “A few days? Don’t lie. You were with our son for almost a year until he disappeared,” his father cuts in, his voice sharp. I turn my gaze to him. A stocky man with a square face and thick brows. He looks nothing like Mitch. Neither of them has t
I wake up to the warm pressure of a head between my legs. A slow, deliberate tongue glides over my clit, teasing, stroking, sending lazy waves of pleasure through my still-drowsy body. Jace’s hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he lounges against the bed like he has all the time in the world. “Jace,” I murmur, my voice husky with sleep, my mind still catching up to what I’m feeling. “Good morning, baby,” he replies, his words muffled against my skin. “You couldn’t stop yourself?” I ask, my breath hitching as his fingers slide up the inside of my thigh. “Just making sure we start our last day of the school year in the best way possible,” he says smoothly, slipping a finger inside me. A sharp gasp escapes my lips. My back arches as a rush of heat blooms deep in my core. And then, his lips wrap around my clit, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, pushing me straight into oblivion. It takes him less than two minutes to make me fall apart. Exactly twenty seconds in
Mason screams something back, his voice shocked and angry, and I grin under my blanket. My door creaks open, and the bed dips under a heavy weight sinking into the mattress beside me. “Jace?” I mumble into the darkness. “No,” he replies instantly, his voice playful. “I’m a dream.” “What are you doing here?” I ask, my body too relaxed to move. His hands glide over me with a gentleness that sends a shiver down my spine. I’m too comfortable to push him away. “Just fulfilling my teacherly duties,” Jace murmurs, pulling me closer. “Gotta make sure my favorite student is alright.” I suppress a smirk and let out an exaggerated huff. “You’re unbelievable.” “Believe me, baby,” he sighs, his hand tracing my back in slow, deliberate strokes. His lips brush against the curve of my neck, and my body sinks deeper into the mattress. As his hand presses into my skin with firm precision, my thoughts scatter under the expert touch. “You can’t ask a man to stay away from his woman, Norali,” he
A flash of Mitch’s face fills my mind—the machete swinging toward my head, the deafening crack of a gunshot ringing out. “No,” I mumble, the word barely audible. Jace sighs heavily and runs a hand through his damp hair, his frustration palpable. “Next time, it could be a burglar. Who knows what could happen?” TThere’s fear in his voice, and I know it’s even more potent now after he visited his parents’ grave. They were shot in their own home, after all. The weight of that memory lingers between us. I set my half-empty plate on the coffee table and take Jace’s empty one from his hands, placing it beside mine. Wrapping the blanket around us, I cuddle against him. He pulls me close instinctively, releasing a soft sigh as he feels the warmth of my body. “You can go home tomorrow,” Jace concedes at last, his voice low. “But only if Mason is there. Just for safety.” I nod against his chest, accepting the compromise for now. “As for my internship—” “I can’t let you go somewhere else,
Jace hums softly and kisses my temple as he grabs a pair of sweatpants from the closet. The house is bathed in darkness, the only light filtering in from the garden outside. I tiptoe into the kitchen, wincing as the fridge casts a blinding glare when I open it. I quickly shut it after grabbing the eggs and bacon, but an unmistakable presence prickles the air around me. “Maybe it’s time we move those boxes here,” Jace says casually. I freeze, unsure I’ve heard him correctly. Turning to face him, I see him watching me, his expression unreadable but intent, like he’s waiting for my reaction. “What do you mean?” I ask sharply. “Well…” He starts carefully, his voice steady, “you practically live here already. Might as well move in fully.” The eggs and bacon tremble in my hands as I place them softly on the marble counter. The dim kitchen feels heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. I tilt my head at Jace, narrowing my eyes. I didn't hear that right. “Are you asking me to move in
“Jace,” I breathe against his lips, my voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “You’re being so careful with me.” His lips curl into a soft smirk as his hand trails down my body, sending a shiver racing along my skin. With deliberate slowness, he hooks a finger beneath my panties, sliding them down my legs as if savoring every second. He kisses my neck, the warmth of his breath igniting a fire deep within me, before carelessly tossing my lacy red underwear behind him. “I want to make love to you,” Jace murmurs, his voice a velvety promise against my skin. The words hit me like a thunderclap, leaving me momentarily breathless. My fingers find their way into his hair, tangling in the dark strands, as I hook a leg around his body, pulling him closer. “You don’t make love,” I whisper, my tone a mixture of challenge and disbelief. My hand slides down his chest, over the taut muscles, and lower still. My breath hitches as I brush against the hard dick of him, my thumb stroking
Mind & Heart by Tristan Barton plays softly, the melancholy melody filling the car. I lift my hand, gently placing a finger under Jace’s chin, guiding his face toward me. His eyes, once brimming with confidence and arrogance, are now sunken and haunted. In this moment, he’s not the Jace Adkins I know—the bold, self-assured man—but a lost little boy, burdened by the pain of visiting the graves of parents who were stolen from him. Pain. Fear. Anger. Emotions he shouldn’t have to bear swirl in his gaze, and my chest tightens at the sight. “You’re not alone, Jace,” I whisper, my voice soft but steady. His eyes search mine, filled with a silent, desperate plea for reassurance. “You’re doing the right thing,” I promise, squeezing his hand gently. A breath escapes him, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. His fingers tighten around mine, and his eyes soften, a flicker of gratitude breaking through the storm of his emotions. “Yes,” he finally says, his voice low and strained. “It’ll be
"You're always welcome at my office. It’d be good to see you," Jace says, his voice kind. A few moments of silence pass. "My scotch is always waiting for another drinker. Next time, I'll treat you to the best you've ever tasted," he adds, his hand resting gently on my bare knee. "I’ll bring my girlfriend next week. You should bring your wife. We can go out for dinner," he suggests next. I almost slam on the brakes. He hangs up after a polite goodbye. "Jace!" I exclaim loudly. "You can't tell people we're dating! And besides, you're not taking me anywhere next week. We need to be careful." "Who says I was talking about you?" His voice is serious. I gasp, my hand instinctively reaching for his chest. He catches it midair with a laugh, kissing my knuckles and holding my hand on his knee. "Don’t worry. The guy’s as stupid as they come. We'll slap some red lipstick on you, do something different with your hair, give you a different name. Even if he sees you the next day, he won’t
The vibrations intensify when Jace groans against my skin, and I press my clit against his fingers, consumed by the urgent need building inside me. I need this. I need him. The ache is so intense it feels like it might break me. I’m in a frenzy, my nails digging into Jace's skin, as I feel an overwhelming wave coming. I hold onto it, summoning it faster, pushing his fingers deeper. I moan in his ear, whispering words I don’t fully understand, but they feel like a mantra, desperate and raw. I lose all sense of time and space when Jace slides a finger inside me, pressing his thumb down. It’s like I’m falling off a cliff, the fall so fast and intense I think it might swallow me whole. It’s a death I welcome. My entire body locks up, muscles tightening as my orgasm crashes over me. I cling to Jace for support, riding out the waves of pleasure, barely aware of anything else. Still in the haze of my high, Jace pulls back, his zipper sounding too loud in the quiet space. My senses are