Veiled Innocence

  How many times could I possibly get away with following him home?

  But even as the thoughts echoed in my mind, I put my foot on the accelerator and drove out of the side street.

  It takes approximately fifteen minutes to get to Mr. McKendrick’s house. I know that because I have timed myself—every time. Today, I got there in fewer than thirteen.

  My car crawled to a stop at what I believed was a safe distance from his drive. I killed the engine and sat there. He’d likely already gone inside. Usually, he didn’t wait around.

  He’d park the truck, and make his way to the front door. Once he was inside, I sometimes caught a glimpse of him as he moved through the house, but for today, I was just happy to be close.

  Turning up the music so it was pumping through the car, I sat back and undid my seat belt, feeling a sense of calm wash over me—calm at being near.

  It was a risk to be parked on his street, but I was willing to take it.

  No one knew that I was there, so what would it hurt?

  * * *

  I couldn’t believe she’d followed me home.

  I was sitting in my truck with my hands wrapped around the steering wheel. I could see her in the rearview mirror, and my heart pounded in my chest as I thought about my next move.

  I’d purposely waited to leave until she had gone home. It had been quite the wait, but I couldn’t afford to put myself within close quarters of this girl.

  She was undisciplined and clearly had never heard the word no in her life. She wanted things she couldn’t have, and I needed to make that much clearer than in our previous conversations.

  I could see the hood of her car peeking out from behind one of the neighbor’s hedges and wished I could forget she was there, but this time she had crossed too many lines. She needed to know that this behavior could not continue.

  Pushing open my truck door, I climbed out and locked it before walking down the drive. I strode purposefully along the sidewalk and tried to think of exactly what I was going to say to this student of mine.

  Please stop following me? Please stop hitting on me?

  They both sounded ridiculous, and I realized that at this point the word please needed to be thrown right out the fucking window.

  Polite wasn’t going to work with Addison Lancaster. It was time to get serious, maybe even mean, because this girl had the ability to destroy me.

  I squinted against the sun’s reflection on the windshield as I approached her car. She didn’t see me since she had her eyes closed and her head resting back on the seat. Her mouth was parted like she was…fucking hell, her hand…

  I pulled my eyes away from what she was doing and ignored the fact I was certain she was moaning. Instead, I stepped around to the driver’s side of the car.

  Knocking firmly on the window, I caught her jump as her eyes snapped open, and she removed her palm from between her legs. She frantically sat up, and I knew that she had not expected me to come down here. In fact, she seemed truly panicked.

  Good, maybe this would teach her a lesson.

  Again, I rapped on the window, harder this time, and when I heard the locks pop, I hauled open the car door.

  “Get. Out!” I demanded as she gaped at me wide-eyed.

  She visibly swallowed and shook slightly as she climbed out of the car, closing the door behind her. I grabbed her arm and tugged her off the road and up onto the curb.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I—”

  “Did you follow me?”

  Her blue eyes flicked over my face, but this time the move seemed more nervous than flirtatious.

  “Did you fucking follow me?” I thundered.

  “Yes!” she conceded, and I dropped her arm as quickly as I had grabbed it.

  “Why would you do that? You know you can’t be here!”

  She took a step closer, and I backed up like she was contagious.

  “Why can’t I be here?”

  “Because you fucking can’t! I don’t want you here.”

  Jesus, what a fucking joke. I felt as though I was about to get struck by lightning over that huge lie. I had just caught this girl masturbating in her car, and all I could think about was watching her do it again, but this time in my bed.

  “If I wasn’t your student—”

  “You are my student, Addison. You’re my student, and I’m your teacher. This will never happen.”

  “But if I wasn’t?”

  “Go home.”

  Just like that, I witnessed her nerves disappear before she demanded, “Answer me!”

  I felt the headache throbbing behind my eyes and was disgusted by the fact it was keeping time with the blood pumping through my erect cock.

  “You’re hard.”

  As soon as her soft observation hit my ears, I told her again, “Go. Home.”

  “Why are you so worried? No one is here, and I like it.”

  “I’m not worried. I’m appalled. Appalled that someone as bright as you are feels like she has to throw herself at people to get attention. Not only boys, but someone my age.”

  “How old are you? I’d guess thirty.”

  “Again, these are all things that are none of your business, Addison. You know that. This behavior of yours needs to stop, or I’ll be forced to contact your parents.”

  She laughed then, a sound so sweet and carefree that I wondered what exactly was going through her head. One minute she was the bright, promising schoolgirl and the next, a bold, reckless imitation of herself who seemed to constantly be pushing boundaries and searching for something…more.

  “And what would you tell them? Hello, Mrs. Lancaster, I’m calling to let you know that your daughter has been turning up at my house and masturbating in her car. Oh, and can you please keep her away from me because she gives me a hard-on?”

  I felt my anger course through me and was annoyed that it heightened my already misplaced arousal. I stepped closer, and she backed up hitting the car. The spark that lit her eyes provoked me even further, so I leaned down over her and did something I’d never done before. I threatened a woman. Worse, I threatened a girl.

  “You’re trying my patience, Addison. You need to leave me alone. Get in the fucking car, and go home. Or you won’t like what happens next.”

  Her eyes fell to my mouth and then came back up to meet mine, but instead of fear, which I’d hoped to instill, all I could sense was excitement.

  Excitement and lust. The same emotions that were feeding my own.

  “And if I stay?”

  Before I could stop myself, I snatched a handful of her sports jacket in one of my fists and hauled her in close. Close enough that I could feel her breath against my lips.

  “This is very dangerous, Addison. I’m not another one of your little boys that can be led around by their cock. Now. Leave.”

  I released her and marched back to my house not even waiting to see if she followed my order.

  * * *

  Oh shit, I thought as I remained where he’d left me, pressed up against my car door. My legs were barely supporting me as my entire body trembled. My pussy was throbbing so hard I could literally feel each perverted pulse.

  One, two, three.

  I cupped myself, tightening my thighs around my fingers. Christ. He was so fucking intense.

  Exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed.

  I replayed his words and bit my bottom lip before removing my hand and walking around to the driver’s side.

  When I passed by his house, I spotted him through his front window. I zeroed in on him and saw the frustration from seconds earlier still evident on his face.

  I continued my secret perusal and witnessed something I knew he wouldn’t have wanted me to. Him—unbuckling and unzipping his jeans.

  I didn’t care what Mr. McKendrick said; his body was calling for me, and I couldn’t help but respond.

  * * *

  Present…

  “Addison? Addison. It’s
time for your meds.”

  The woman standing in the light blue scrubs is analyzing me as I sit on the old, broken-down couch in the common room.

  “Addison?”

  I wonder what she thinks of me—Slut? Skank? Whore?

  It’s ironic. Before coming here, I wouldn’t have cared what she thought because I would’ve known I was perfect.

  Not anymore.

  According to them, I’m broken and in need of healing—less than perfect.

  “Your meds. Here.” She passes me a small plastic cup with my pills. I take it from her as the TV switches stories.

  Tick, tick, tock.

  I’ve been waiting all afternoon for the news to come on just to see if it will be mentioned. Usually, I’m ushered out by now. Either sent back to my room or to see Doc, but someone must have forgotten because I’m still sitting here and it’s…

  Tick, tick, tock.

  Time.

  I see the anchorman appear, and a few seconds later, his picture flashes across the screen.

  Oh God. It feels like forever since I’ve seen that face.

  I drop the pills and slide off the couch to crawl toward the TV. I kneel and place my fingers on the screen. Trying to touch, trying to reach him. Tears are sliding down my cheeks as the man on the TV continues talking about the “missing teacher.”

  When I’m dragged from the room, all I can hear is, “As of tonight, there’s still no word on his whereabouts.”

  Tick, tick, tock.

  Chapter Five

  Past…

  Unlike most sports, Miss Shrieve scheduled our hurdle practices in the mornings. That way, we avoided the heat, and more likely, the boys.

  The morning after being spotted at Mr. McKendrick’s house, I made my way across the field to where the other girls were starting to arrive. They all waved as I stopped and dropped my bag onto the ground. Pulling an elastic band from my pocket, I tipped my head back and tied up my hair as Jessica began talking.

  “So, I thought you’d want to know, Sam text me last night. He said Brandon was super pissed that you didn’t show yesterday.”

  Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I faced Jessica and shrugged. “So? He’s just pissed he didn’t get laid.”

  “Addy!”

  “What? It’s the truth. Don’t act like you’ve never done it, Jess.”

  With an irritating giggle, she replied, “I’m not.”

  “Ah-huh,” was my nonchalant response, not really caring either way what she had or hadn’t done. I was too busy thinking about the conversation with my history teacher from the afternoon before. This is very dangerous, Addison.

  What was very dangerous?

  I should have asked him, but I knew, just like he did, and that’s why he’d sent me away.

  “Good morning, ladies!” Miss Shrieve’s voice called out as she jogged over to us. Her blond ponytail swished back and forth as she bounced along the grass.

  “I hope you are all warmed up and ready to practice for the big meet tomorrow.”

  As I bent down to touch my toes, the other girls around me chorused out, “Yes!”

  “Good, good! I’m so excited for you all. Addy? How are you feeling this morning?”

  I straightened instantly and aimed a guilty look her way. For a moment, I had the insane notion she was referring to something else entirely.

  “Legs feeling strong?”

  Releasing the breath I was holding, I gave her my brightest, fakest smile. It was the least I could do. Miss Shrieve, after all, was someone who had seen me at my worst, and now, wanted to fuck my history teacher. I could tell because I wanted to as well.

  “Yes. I feel very strong,” was my reply, and I wasn’t lying. Remembering the way Mr. McKendrick had been hard inside his jeans, and his eyes—those intense eyes—both of those things made me feel strong, made me feel superior.

  “Good! We need you strong to fight for what’s yours.”

  She was referring to beating the overall best time in hurdles, but as I agreed with her and began to remove my track pants, all I could think about was fighting for Mr. McKendrick.

  * * *

  This morning I’d requested the first hour of my day free. I wanted to go down and visit my father.

  He’d been transferred to a hospice facility a little over a month ago, and watching him become a mere shell of the man he once was had to be one of the cruelest fates I’d witnessed.

  Heart disease from years ago is where it had all started, and the road up until this point had been rife with surgeries and setbacks. I’d been given a harsh lesson as a thirty-two-year-old, and that is—live for the moment because miracles don’t exist.

  Then there was the man himself, always doing what he thought was right. He had lived with this diagnosis for so long without telling me to spare me from the pain. It wasn’t until these final months, when everything was failing, that he’d reached out.

  Selfish of him or kind? I still hadn’t decided.

  Getting out of my pickup, I slammed the door shut before making my way through the gated fence surrounding the track.

  I was still extremely uncomfortable about what happened yesterday afternoon with Addison and what I’d done after. When she had left my house, I’d been unable to get the image of her sitting in her car pleasuring herself out of my fucking head.

  The way her legs had been slightly splayed under the steering wheel and how her hips had moved, giving away exactly what she’d been doing without me even needing to see. As if that hadn’t been enough, the way her mouth—that full-lipped mouth—had opened and sighed as she must have touched the very right…fuck.

  Again, there I was, disgusted with myself and sporting another erection due to my unruly thoughts of a fucking student. At least last night I’d been able to privately take care of the issue and had. I’d gone into my shower and spent a long time jacking off to the image of Addison, which infuriated me because it was exactly what the little tease wanted.

  Hurriedly, I made my way into the building. I didn’t have a class scheduled until after lunch, so I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone right now. That was until—

  “Hey there.”

  When the door to my classroom shut behind me, I walked over to my desk and found Helene Shrieve, coach of the girls hurdle team.

  She was sitting on one of the student’s desks with her long legs dangling and an open smile on her face. Helene was a beautiful woman with green eyes and honey-bronzed skin.

  “Morning. Did you get lost on your way to the track?”

  Laughing good-naturedly, she jumped down off the desk and made her way over to me.

  “Nope. I’ve already been out there this morning. My girls are going to kill it tomorrow…which is why I’m here.”

  We’d only had one conversation prior to this. Yesterday, when we’d run into each other for the first time, she’d introduced herself, as had I, and then I’d walked away.

  I wasn’t here to make friends or form relationships. After my contract was up and my father—well, I didn’t want to think about that. I would be away from this place as soon as I could.

  “And why’s that?”

  “I heard you like photography.”

  “Oh, you did, did you?”

  Grinning now like she knew a secret, she nodded. “Mhmm. Principal Thomas told me, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come to the track meet tomorrow? Maybe take some snapshots of the students? It’d be great for you to see them in action and show your support.”

  Somehow, the question sounded a lot like an invitation to a date, disguised as a school function, and if the way she was checking me out was any indication—I was correct.

  “I don’t know…” I started as the bell sounded.

  “Think about it. I’d love to see you there.”

  With a nod of my head, I watched her walk to the door, and as she pulled it open, she stepped aside.

  “Oh, hello, Addison.”

  * * *

  Jealou
sy.

  That was exactly what I was feeling as Miss Shrieve opened the door to my history class for me. Knowing I had no other option than to be polite, I greeted her and moved into the room.

  “Hi, Miss Shrieve. Brushing up on your history?” I asked, turning to face Mr. McKendrick, who was standing behind his desk looking at the both of us.

  “Something like that,” Coach replied with a soft laugh that grated on my nerves. I wanted to tell her to go and brush up on someone else.

  “Well, you better take a seat. Your class will be starting soon,” she advised as if I didn’t already know that.

  She then addressed Mr. McKendrick again. “I hope you’ll consider the invitation.”

  As she left the room, I contemplated the man silently watching me. What was she referring to, and what invitation? My curiosity outweighed my ability to think clearly as I walked over to him.

  His focus kept shifting beyond my shoulder to the other students making their way to their seats. When I reached his desk, I stopped and waited.

  “Go and take your seat, Addison.”

  “I need to talk to you after class.”

  He shook his head and went back to monitoring the door. “No.”

  I lowered my voice and stepped even closer. “Want me to talk to you now?”

  “No,” he repeated, but this time he looked down at me.

  His eyes conveyed his inner conflict as he pinned me with them, and the combination of heated desire and exasperation made me reckless.

  “Making you say yes will be fun.”

  He said nothing, just gave me his back and moved to the chalkboard. Satisfied that I’d won for the moment, I went and took my seat as Brandon walked into the room.

  “Where the hell were you yesterday?” he asked loudly, walking down the row.

  I snuck a quick look to the front where Mr. McKendrick had stopped writing and was observing. He was more than aware of where I’d been the day before.

  “I forgot, okay? Shit, relax, would you? I just went home.”

  “You forgot?” Brandon sputtered as he slammed his books down on the desk. “How could you fucking forget? We talked about it right before you left.”