My fingers slide through the stack of papers frantically. I know exactly what I’m looking for. I also know I don’t have much time. The words blur as I skim the first line of each page, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs. It always does when I do this. But I force myself to push past the panic and focus. My knees burn against the rough carpet, and my ankles are twisted awkwardly—positioned so I can spring up at a moment’s notice. The second I hear the door creak open, my eyes land on the document I need. In one swift motion, I yank it from the drawer—just as I rip a button from my shirt. The tiny black button pops off, almost vanishing somewhere on the floor, at the same time I shove the stolen paper beneath the desk. “Nora?” Shit. I jump up too fast, smacking my head against the mahogany desk with a painful thud. “Da—OUCH!” “Nora, are you okay?” Dave’s voice is too close. A second later, he’s hauling me up, concern in his expression. I quickly clutch the missing button
"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
On Thursday, I made it through another half of the math book. The numbers were starting to blur together, and after a while, I wasn’t even sure what I was reading anymore, but I pushed on. The sooner I finish, the sooner I can start tutoring. When Friday arrives, the day of our trip to Mr. Adkins' other workplace, I almost consider skipping it. Do I really want to endure more of his torture? "What if I just told him I died or something?" I sigh to Hannah during our break. "Yeah, that’ll work. He’ll totally buy it," she smirks as she gathers her stuff. I still can't shake the memory of his hand gripping my arm and tightening when I dropped his book. The book now has a permanent crease as a reminder. Sure, he saved me from falling, but only after causing the near-disaster in the first place. And yes, he stood way too close to me... but maybe that was because I refused to give his stuff back. "Girls! Hurry up, or we’ll be late!" Lina shouts, heading over with Charlotte. I let out a
"I'm Richard, by the way," he says as he leads me into an office in the corner. "What's your name?" he asks, turning to me."Norali," I reply softly. He opens the door, and I'm immediately drawn to the wall filled with photos."Beautiful," I hear him murmur. The first few are typical group shots, people posing for the camera. As I walk past them, my eyes scanning for a particular person, I freeze. My eyes snap to him in the next picture. He's off to the side, holding a drink, surrounded by three women. He's not smiling, but they are. I've never seen him smile. "That was last month," Richard says. I move to the next photo. There he is again, more disheveled this time, his blazer gone, the top buttons of his shirt open. He looks much more drunk. A woman with black hair is laughing next to him, her hand resting on his knee. He’s not looking at the camera but off to the side, his grip tight on the back of a couch. What was he looking at? "You know... you're literally one of the most
My fingers slide through the stack of papers frantically. I know exactly what I’m looking for. I also know I don’t have much time. The words blur as I skim the first line of each page, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs. It always does when I do this. But I force myself to push past the panic and focus. My knees burn against the rough carpet, and my ankles are twisted awkwardly—positioned so I can spring up at a moment’s notice. The second I hear the door creak open, my eyes land on the document I need. In one swift motion, I yank it from the drawer—just as I rip a button from my shirt. The tiny black button pops off, almost vanishing somewhere on the floor, at the same time I shove the stolen paper beneath the desk. “Nora?” Shit. I jump up too fast, smacking my head against the mahogany desk with a painful thud. “Da—OUCH!” “Nora, are you okay?” Dave’s voice is too close. A second later, he’s hauling me up, concern in his expression. I quickly clutch the missing button
I’m nervous. And I have every right to be. Slowly, I step out of my car, careful not to make a sound as my shoes touch the gravel. My coat feels like a layer of protection I’m peeling away, leaving me vulnerable. My shoes feel like lead as I take them off by the door. I really considered just going home. Spending the evening with Mason. Pushing the inevitable drama to another day. But I can’t. I move cautiously through the house, my steps almost hesitant as I make my way to the kitchen. Fuck. Jace is going to be so— "You stole my fucking client?!" I flinch. Jace storms toward me, and instinct takes over—I dart behind the kitchen island, putting it between us like a shield. "You didn’t call them back yesterday! And I had a better deal!" I yell, my voice high with genuine fear. "I didn’t call them back because I was too busy fucking you!" Jace snaps, his anger raw, sharp, and directed at me. Not a pretty sight. "You made that decision!" I shoot back, though my voice cracks. M
I stare at him in disbelief as the class filters out. Hannah nudges me from behind, snorting loudly before the door clicks shut behind her. Silence settles between us. I remain standing in the middle of the room, gripping my bag tightly. He’s still seated at his desk, his gaze raking over me, but for once, his expression gives nothing away. “Come here,” he orders finally, his voice low, commanding. The one that demands obedience. I hesitate for two seconds before slowly walking toward him. My bag slides from my shoulder, landing on the desk beside his with a dull thud. His eyes scan me with deliberate slowness, like a predator devouring prey, before he rolls back in his chair. “Bend over my desk.” My stomach clenches. I glance at the door. Someone might— “Now.” I listen. Turning away from him, I lean forward, my palms pressing into the cold, hard wood of his desk. My short skirt barely covers my ass, which he now has full sight iff.. My grip tightens on the desk’s edge as my
“I don’t know yet, Sir,” I answer instead. His eyes narrow, clearly displeased with my response. “Come up here,” he orders. I plead mentally. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to stand in front of the class with everyone’s eyes on me. I want to stay in my seat, in my safe space. My eyes go wide, silently begging for mercy. “Did your ears stop working?” Jace asks, completely unfazed. I let out a deep sigh, forcing myself to stand. My jaw clenches as I make my way to the old-fashioned board, picking up a tiny piece of chalk. From the corner of my eye, I already see Jace moving closer. He stops beside me, too close, and reads out the long, mind-numbing problem. By the time he reaches the last word, I’ve already forgotten the second to last. He doesn’t repeat himself. He just watches me, waiting. The tension is suffocating, horrible. I'm about to choke. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “Remembered that?” he taunts, his voice low. Slowly, I turn to face him. His dark eyes gl
”Shut the fuck up.” I almost roll my eyes. Jace stands at the front of the room, looking grumpy and too hot for his own good. He tosses his laptop, phone, and keys onto his desk like they don’t mean a thing. They land on the battered math book. Battered because of me. I accidentally spilled my caramel coffee over it this morning—right after our fight about my internship. Which was great timing. It made us late and pissed Jace off even more than he already was. ”Why do you always swear at us?” Brent asks, his voice too loud. I barely hold in a snort. Not that it matters. I don’t make a sound, but Jace knows exactly what’s going on in my head. He doesn’t look at me, though. He doesn’t have to. He’s going to break first. My internship is still a sore point in our relationship. That got worse when I found out that Jace cancelled my internship at Blackwood. It got even worse when I cancelled my internship at his company. I called Blackwood, and they told me they still have a spot f
“And you're sure the threat is dealt with?” Mason asks, doubt lacing his voice. “Believe me, it's done,” Jace replies from beside me. “Mitch's body was found in his house after it burned down. His parents are the main suspects, and they conveniently disappeared. Case closed.” “I can't believe they tried to kill Nora,” Ryker murmurs, eyebrows raised. I glance at him. He's sitting next to Hannah, holding a glass of gin, sprawled out on his plush pink towel. He doesn’t look entirely out of place, but I can tell he’s a little freaked out by the presence of two teachers. The cave is empty. It's just us here, which is surprising given that summer break has just begun. The sun is dipping lower, casting a golden glow over the water. We arrived not long ago, carrying towels and still-warm food. “Well, we did sort of kill their son,” Esme points out helpfully. “After he tried to kill Li. Again,” Mason says, shaking his head in disbelief. “What can I say? I’m not easy to kill,” I joke, fei
His wife screams. It's deafening, piercing through the room even as my ears ring from the gunshots. The sound is too much, making everyone flinch. Jace doesn’t hesitate. He snatches the fallen gun from the floor, his movements swift and precise, and aims it at the woman. There’s no remorse on his face—only cold calculation. His only thought: protect the ones he loves. BAM The second shot shatters the air. I flinch involuntarily, but I can’t look away. He shoots her through the heart. Blood erupts from her chest, staining her blouse in an instant. Her body jerks against the wall, wide eyes filled with disbelief. The tears that had welled in her gaze remain frozen there as she collapses, lifeless. In one fluid motion, Jace disables the gun, removes the magazine, and tosses the pieces onto the floor. “Fuck,” Mason mutters, taking in the scene. Jace remains unfazed. He takes two steps toward me, his expression still void of warmth. With one arm, he hauls me upright, his sharp e
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