15 comments/ 29356 views/ 18 favorites Mr. Bailey By: Kelygrl Why hello there! This will be my first submission and seeing as I'm a novice, I'm really interested to hear what you think! The good, the bad, the ugly.... Yada, yada, yada and so on and so forth. I hope you enjoy! The rain slammed against the roof and echoed through the house as I stepped inside. My mother's voice echoed in the hallway behind me, "Who was that?" She was still in her business suit and black patent leather heels, which clapped on the hardwood as she advanced toward me. I closed the front door and turned to face her with all the candor I could muster, which frankly, wasn't much. My mother's law career was the predominating factor in her life. It was unusual for her to be home so early. My father is often gone on trips for his high profile construction company. Suffice to say, I spend much of my time alone. I like it that way. "Mr. Bailey held me after school. I forgot my paper this morning." My mother's eyebrows jumped up her forehead in shock. Her hands settled firmly on her hips and my stomach clenched in anticipation. Pray she doesn't suspect... I felt the flush rise on my cheeks. I was utterly enamoured with my English teacher. When he had insisted on giving me a ride home after detention, I nearly combust from stress. I dreamt about him day and night. Actually, I had been having a particulary vivid day dream just this morning when I realized I was late for class and ran out of the house without my assignment. I couldn't exactly explain that when he had chastised me in front of the entire class and so... detenion again. And of course he caught me standing on the front steps of the main hall, waiting for the rain to let up enough to make it to the bus stop. Of course he had hustled me into his car and proceeded to drive me home explaining he was responsible for my safety. Of course he had reached across me to open the door when I froze like a deer at the sight of my mothers oversized SUV in the driveway. Of course he grazed my breast causing my to groan like a wanton whore before I bolted from the vehicle without looking back. Of fucking course... "He gave you a ride home? Danica, you should have brought that poor man inside so I could thank him!" Of course Mother didn't suspect, that would require paying attention. She rubbed her temples circularly. My mother had met Mr. Bailey during last year's parent-teacher conference. It had not escaped me that she had developed more than a passing fascination of him. It didn't seem to bother her that he was only 26 either. After all, "Forty is the new thirty." "Imagine, he drove out of his way just to bring you home." Classic Mother. Shucking my loafers, I passed her for the stairs, "I'll be sure to pass along your thanks, Mother." My escape couldn't come soon enough. I was barely holding my emotions in check as I closed my door behind me. My head was spinning too fast to even dream of attempting homework, and so I determined that a nap was in order. I peeled off each layer of my school uniform and couldn't help but imagine Mr. Bailey doing the same. Freeing his hands of his leather gloves, pulled gently by each finger tip. I could practically see him standing in front of me, dropping them to the floor. He unwound his scarf from his neck and it too floated to the carpet in silence. Each button of his over coat was released from its closure by his deft olive fingers. He pulled it from his shoulders, slowly revealing the sight I was used to seeing. Blazer and slacks framing his tall, lean body. And those so very intense dark eyes. Mr. Bailey turned and sat on my desk chair. He leaned forward to untie each polished shoe and pull them from his feet, followed shortly by his socks. I sighed as he stood again and took off his jacket. It too joined the clothing heap forming on my floor. I could see the muscles of his shoulders working under his white button up. He rolled his neck and pulled his shirt free of his pants. His fingers went to the tiny white buttons running up the middle and I heard myself moan in anticipation. My cell phone rang, loud and thrumming. I dragged my attention away from Mr. Bailey, who had also turned to confront the interruption. I'm ignoring that call. I turned back to the man in my room. Gone. I had lost the image, or rather I had opened my eyes. I strode, half naked across the room in a foul mood. Abby's voice materialized in my ear, "You said you were going to call, I got worried." Ultimately, I couldn't be mad at Abby and so I apologized for my lapse. She wasn't as concerned as I was and instead, fixated on badgering me for details of my detention with Mr. Bailey. I kept it brief, only reciting to her the illustrious reading list I had received as a long term punishment and vaguely mentioning the tense ride home he had insisted upon. "Looks like you're in for the long haul, huh?" "Unfortunately." I confirmed. The weight of the assignment was once again brought to the forefront of my mind. I had a lot of reading to do. My night would be spent with my nose between several hundred pages of several literary works and with my laptop firmly at my side. So much for a nap. ~*~*~ I trudged to my locker, exhausted. My mind was slowing from a lack of sleep. Three weeks, just as many books and twelve essay pages later and I was mere hours away from being free. Abby met me at my locker, energy drink in hand. She was my savior. Abby and I had been fast friends since Kindergarten. Partners in crime from the beginning we spent a few years stirring up trouble and building a reputation as trouble makers. That was until our parents decided to separate us in middle school by enrolling us in different academies. Poor Abby sprouted a foot in those years and her hair went from tight curls to "ugly stepchild" ginger haired frizz. I fared no better, becoming gangly myself and discovering I was somewhat of an introvert. It didn't help that I had taken to dying my chestnut brown hair all manner of garish colors. I like to think I made yellow popular before Lady Gaga, although if I'm honest, it's entirely untrue. This plan had worked marvelously for our parents, right up until halfway through the 8th grade. Abby had been in the locker room changing after Physical Ed when a few popular girls had ambushed her, holding her down as they chopped off her ponytail. That same day I had been called an "emo slut". According to the rumors, I would sleep with anyone, just to feel worthwhile and not kill myself. And that was the day we decided we were done with this shit. Literally. Abby had called me after school and said, "I'm done with shit." I whole-heartedly agreed and we ran away. Okay, we didn't really get anywhere. Our parents found us three days later at Abby's alcoholic Uncle's house, eating ice cream and watching Rom-Coms. We had traded her emergency credit card for housing, not knowing how easy it was to track Uncle P's liquor purchases at every store within 10 miles. After that moment, followed swiftly by several months of barely supervised grounding, our parents conceded and enrolled us in the same high school. Lucky me, I needed this girl. We were seniors now and still inseparable. "Dani, you look like a zombie." She shoved the can toward me and waited for me to accept it. She was right, dark circles had formed beneath my eyes and I was hardly coherent. I had barely completed the task set before me. Last night's all-nighter had resulted quite a bit of time re-reading text in an attempt to grasp at meanings that seemed to elude me. But I had finished. "I just need a nap." My assurance was weak. Just like I was feeling. There was one positive side affect to my sleep deprivation. I was far too exhausted to entertain ideas of Mr. Bailey. His only hold on me was in class, when he haunted me with his physical presence. My locker taunted me. The numbers on its smug face blurred and I couldn't get it to open. Abby sighed as she watched my fingers fumble with the lock. Finally she bumped my hip, spun it a few times and jangled it free. She placed the can she had been holding in my hand and looked me in the eyes, "Mr. Bailey is killing you." I laughed, almost maniacally, and she disappeared from my sight, shaking her head at my impending madness. Mr. Bailey's class was half full when I made my way to my seat. The hard wooden chair was a welcome break from standing. I had six minutes before class began. I tossed back the last of the fizzy canned beverage for all I was worth before I let my head rest on my palm and felt my heavy lids slide closed. Just a couple of minutes. I was hoping against hope that energy drink of Abby's would take affect any minute and I would snap awake. But in the meantime, just a minute or six of rest would be wonderful. The world faded from my senses and everything became quiet. Too quiet, much too quiet. I willed my eyes open to see Mr. Bailey's polished black shoes standing at the foot my desk. I looked up to the eyes of the entire class and brushed my long hair from my face. "Miss Peterson," His clipped English accent forced me to look up at him, "While I am glad that you are on time, for once, it is utterly useless if you utilize that time by sleeping." "I-I'm sorry sir." "See me after school." He walked away brusquely, leaving me wilting in his wake. I had done it again. I felt the eyes of my classmates peel away from me slower than usual. Persephone Davies had been working hard at the rumor mill and I certainly wasn't helping. I could only imagine what lies she had been telling. Why anyone would listen to Persephone was lost on me, but school bullies seem to hold some kind of mystical power over their student bodies. She was no exception. Her favorite pastime had taken a unexpected turn recently, leaving off the lower class-men and heading right in my direction. I had made it clear in the past that I abhorred the tall blonde along with most of the fairer student body that lacked a penis. She had never so much as bothered to purposely glance my way before. Yet somehow, I had managed to become important enough for her begin laying groundwork for a tale of epic proportions. I was sleeping with the teachers to increase my grades. And Mr. Bailey was next on my list. Oh God, I wished. The fates must be playing with me. I had effectively managed to avoid any confrontation, or interaction really, with Mr. Bailey whatsoever for three weeks. I was feeling triumphant in my ability to overcome my body's demands and remain level headed. But here I was, detention again, on the day I was to end my original punishment, back at square one and effectively undoing all of my resolve. Mr. Bailey raised an arm to scrawl on the board. I watched as his hand moved along with grace, only to produce chicken scratch lettering. The irony. "Miss Peterson?" Mr. Bailey was staring at me, hard. He had asked something, I was to answer. What did he ask? The writing behind him came into view. It was a question from last night's homework. I blinked my memory into focus and then spouted out the answer I had come up with. Mr. Bailey stared at me a moment longer. My heart was jumping into my throat, but I held his stare. After all, it was ultimately his fault that I was falling apart at the seams. He turned away and began writing another question for some other student to try their luck at. I breathed a sigh of relief. I struggled to focus through the rest of class. Mr. Bailey's smooth words threatened to lull me to sleep with each melodic rise and fall. I wondered if his pillow talk was just as soothing or gruffer. If he were to purr in my ear, would it be more of a growl? Does he bite? Can I? Tingling arousal sprinted up my spine, shaking my sleepiness away. I fought the urge to shift in my seat, to cross my legs and slide around. To find a more comfortable and relieving position. To give myself just one moment of pleasure. As if he heard my thoughts, Mr. Bailey met my eyes. I felt a flush run up my face as I begged my body to comply and stop fidgeting. Oh shit, I silently begged, please don't notice. He looked me over once and redirected his gaze to another student to critique his response to a homework question. I am so screwed. ~*~*~ I firmly decided that I wouldn't be going to school tomorrow sometime during lunch period. Unable to keep my head level above my neck, I looked like a water bird searching for its next meal. My mother was out of town working on a case and wouldn't be back for several days. My father was in and out of the house, but kept no tabs on my day to day life. No one would miss me, besides Abby. She put up little protest and eventually agreed that I was overdue for a well deserved rest. "Sooo... detention with Bailey again?" I nodded in confirmation as I pushed my food around my plate in circles. Her brow furrowed and she shook her head at me from across the lunch table. "How did you manage that?" "I fell asleep and he caught me." I shrugged. I wasn't too concerned about this meeting, I was maybe even excited. I felt myself perk up as I considered the outrageous possibilities. "Is everyone talking about it?" Abby reached over and grabbed my hand. I felt more than slightly uncomfortable. We weren't the touchy feely, squeal when we see each other, type. "Just Persephone and her lackeys. I only heard from Gretta King who heard from Joseph Filmore who is hooking up with one of her minions. I'm not sure which one. They all start to look the same. Regardless," she breathed in frustration, "I'm really worried about you. You need to get some rest." Yes I know, I thought with some irritation. That's what tomorrow is for. I removed my hand under the guise of adjusting my hair from my face. It occurred to me that I had no reason to be hiding my minor obsession from Abby. She had had a crush or two of her own before. But somehow this felt different. "You know, there's a party this weekend. We could go." I had only attended a high school party once last year and it was enough for me. As memories of drunk boys, half naked girls and being chased out of a house by police came flooding back I felt my mouth form into a hard line. No, most certainly not. "How is that resting?" "It'll get your mind off all of this Mr. Bailey business. Between the books and essays and your habit of detention, you need to cut loose a smidge." "I'm not interested." Abby scoffed at my response. "'Man is so made that he can only find relaxation from one kind of labor by taking up another.'" She grinned, "Dani, at least think about it. You didn't even give it a chance." We stared at each other for a moment, stuck in a silent standoff. I conceded, "I'll consider it." I said it even though we both knew I would be going. Truth be told, I didn't want to get Mr. Bailey off of my mind. He had begun to seep back in and I liked it. Persephone leaned on the far side of our table. "Detention again Peterson? Visiting your favorite teacher? What exactly does he teach you?" Abby was on her feet before I could stop her. I barely had a chance to jump in front of her before she was toe to toe with the tall, offending blonde. And I was sandwiched between them. "Fuck you, Persephone." Abby's voice was full of venom. I could feel her chest rise and fall under my palm. She was the angriest I had ever seen her. I tried to nudge Persephone back, but she swat at my hand. They stood starring daggers at each other while I pleaded for this to end peacefully. No one heard me. I looked around. Not a teacher in sight. Half of the cafeteria was standing in anticipation. I didn't want to get into a fight. I wasn't exactly scrappy and Persephone's posse was quickly materializing around us. We were far outnumbered. I said a quick prayer, begging for someone, anyone to help. "What is the meaning of this?" Cold, crisp words parted the crowd. I closed my eyes in dread. Anyone but Mr. Bailey. Persephone quickly took three steps back and dropped her shoulders. It was like watching a rattlesnake retract. I stood dumbstruck as I watched her finger rise toward my forehead, "Danica threatened me!" Mr. Bailey came to stand between our two parties and looked to me, "Miss Peterson?" I opened my mouth to deny the allegation, but it dawned on me that denial meant incriminating Abby. I felt the pressure of the situation crush my posture. I swallowed, hard, "I did." Persephone's posse snickered amongst the crowd as I was lead away by my elbow, two steps ahead of Mr. Bailey. I couldn't help but hang my head in shame. He must think the worst of me. First I fell asleep, and then I couldn't sit still, and now fighting. I would be headed straight away to the principal and my parents would be called immediately. I could only imagine my Mother's reaction to the embarrassment I will have caused her. I considered running away as an option. The grip on my elbow was fairly loose. I sighed. Mr. Bailey must think me a simple child, hardly in control of myself and my savage impulses. Tears threatened to brim over and I bit my lip to hold them in check. I felt weak. And not just physically. Mr. Bailey released my elbow to open his classroom door, "Have a seat Miss Peterson." I looked around confused. This was not the Principal's office. "I haven't got all day, Danica." Mr. Bailey shooed me into his class and shut the door behind us. I found my usual seat and arranged myself, trying my best to seem a little less crazy and a little more stable. Mr. Bailey leaned on his desk, arms crossed, and stared into my soul. I fought the urge to look away and stare at my toes. "Would you care to explain what just occurred in the cafeteria? The truth this time?" I looked away, I couldn't help it. "Things got out of hand," I spoke to no one particular. "I'm sorry." "Hmm." Mr. Bailey considered what I had said. "And why, Miss Peterson, do you feel it necessary to apologize to me? It seems Persephone Davies is the one you offended." I felt my cheeks flush in anger, "I will not apologize to Persephone Davies." I had expected Mr. Bailey to react in a variety of ways, the least of which was slapping me for my insolence, but rather he chuckled and dropped his chin to hide a smile. I took the opportunity, "Will you be reporting me to the Principal?" "I have not decided yet. While I do think you have become quite lax lately, I somehow don't imagine that you were at the center of that spat. I rather imagine that you're other half, Abigail Connelly, is the perpetrator of this conundrum. Might I be right?" I blanched, "You might." "Well, in that case, I see no reason to punish you for being a noble friend." "Thank you, Mr. Bailey." I felt lighter, and yet somehow far more tired. "Undue apologies and undue thank-yous. Have you completed your reading assignment?" I nodded. "Good." He checked the clock on the wall, "You may go now. I will see you after school." I hustled to the door, keeping my eyes on the floor. I reached for the door handle, but when I felt Mr. Bailey's fingers wrap around my forearm I stumbled. My knees buckled and suddenly the world had shifted around me. Mr. Bailey's face came into view, taut with concern. Why would he touch me? I could barely walk straight as it was. Couldn't he see what he held over me? "Danica!" He gently shook me back to the present. I blinked, twice, and suddenly became aware of the cold linoleum on my ass. A shiver ran up my spine. "Are you feeling ill?" Mr. Bailey's hand went to my forehead, "You don't feel warm." He brushed my hair away from my face and tucked a strand behind my ear. Funny, I felt like I was on fire. "Mr. Bailey, please."It was scarcely more than a whisper. I had intended to push him away, to scramble out of his lap, which I was suddenly keenly aware of, but I didn't move. I couldn't, for fear my body would latch onto his. Instead I found myself stuck between desire and fear. Mr. Bailey Ch. 02 Fading light filtered through the window and into my eyes. I rolled over and snuggled deeper into bed. Bed? Dark blue sheets? These aren't mine... Not mine, but Mr. Bailey's. I glanced around at the sparse room. There was little more than the bed, a nightstand, a closet and a few pictures. A TV was mounted in the corner, a cable box neatly seated on the dresser underneath. The bathroom door was cracked and I could hear the shower. What now? Is this my cue to leave? We weren't exactly going to live happily ever after. No, I was just a dim high school girl to have some fun with. I had seen enough movies and heard enough humiliating tales in the girl's locker room to know it was time to go. It looked early enough, maybe I could still catch a bus back home. A hand through my hair revealed a knotted mess. I sighed and went into the living room in search of my bag and a hair-tie. I found my shoes discarded on the living room floor along with the buttons to my shirt. I had completely forgotten and looked down to see it hanging loosely. And there, just above my bra cup, sat a deep purple hickey. I needed a mirror immediately. This had gotten way out of hand. "What are you doing?" He was leaning against the door frame to the bedroom, smirking at me. His muscular arms were crossed over his firm chest. His stomach was flat and defined. A cool white towel kept my gaze from traveling any further. I was cute, I knew that much, but he was beautiful. Like some sort of dark mythological god. "I uh," I'm sure I must have looked ridiculous standing in the living room staring at my chest. "I was getting my things and then I realized... my shirt." He glanced at my chest and nodded gravely. "Danica, we need to talk about what just happened." I shifted under his gaze. "Yes sir." "Jefferson." "What?" "Jefferson, my name is Jefferson." I stared at him dumbly. Jefferson Bailey. He seemed like a Jefferson Bailey. It was such a dignified name. He beckoned for me to follow him, "I'll get you a shirt. Are you hungry?" I trotted into his room, nodding. I hadn't eaten anything at lunch and breakfast had consisted solely of Abby's energy drink. I was starving. He ruffled through his closet and I was surprised to see clothing other than slacks and blazers and button-ups. He handed me a beaten up old concert tee, "It's probably the smallest shirt I own. Sorry about ruining yours." "It's okay... Jefferson." His name sounded weird coming out of my mouth. I shucked the ruined top from my shoulders, "It's just a school uniform anyway. I have a million at home just like it." He gave me a wry smile. Grazing through his closet again, Jefferson grabbed a pair of chinos from a hanger. I barely had time to turn around before his towel hit the floor. He chuckled softly behind me, "I didn't mean to startle you, Danica." My heart was slamming in my chest again. Maybe now would be a good time to mention that I'm a virgin? I couldn't help but laugh to myself. He already thought me a simple little girl, there was no way I would reveal that piece of information now. "What's so funny?" I turned to see him pulling a thin white tee shirt down over his chest. I bit my lip, remembering how firm his muscles had felt under my hands. "This is just such a crazy situation." "Ah. It is ... unusual. Come along, we'll see what I have to eat and discuss this whole thing." I followed him into the kitchen and watched him busy himself searching through cabinets and pulling things out of the fridge. "I eat like a bachelor. Will Eggs in a Basket do?" "I don't know what that is, but I haven't eaten today, so yes." Jefferson peered at me from around the refrigerator door, "That explains some things. I'm willing to bet that has something to do with your fainting spells." I nodded in agreement and received a contrite "Tsk" in return. "Si... uh, Jefferson? I won't tell anyone about this. I mean earlier today. It wouldn't exactly make me any more popular. And my Mother would kill me." I lifted myself onto the counter opposite of where he was setting out slices of bread. He turned to face me, "I figured as much, however I would hope your mother would be more concerned for your well being at the hands of a predator like myself." I snorted at that. "She would be more pissed that I got to you before she did. She and my dad aren't... exactly... faithful." I glanced at my knees. Jefferson's grimace told me I was saying too much. "Besides, I'm 18 and willing. You don't quite qualify as a predator. I could name a few of my male classmates that I can't say the same thing about though." Jefferson stepped to the counter and nestled between my knees. "I'm sorry about your parents." He laid a gentle kiss on my forehead. "It's been that way my entire life." I shrugged nonchalantly, "I'm used to it." His hands stroked my thighs, prompting heat to rush to my cheeks. "That doesn't mean your parents should be any less proud of you. You're an excellent student Danica. I little bit fidgety and somewhat petulant at times, but also responsible and very beautiful." Oh god I think I just creamed myself. He firmly whacked my thigh, "Now get down. I'm going to show you how to make Eggs in a Basket, you uncultured American." I smiled as I complied. ~*~*~ "How do you feel about Persephone Davies?" It was freezing in Jefferson's car, even with the heat blasting on high. It was just after midnight and the streets were empty. I had been a terrible cook and finally admitted to eating nothing but rubbery scrambled eggs, oatmeal and yogurt, and the occasional can of spaghetti-o's. Turns out I've been living more of a bachelor lifestyle than he had. We sat on his couch chatting through the evening, occasionally making out like I had in middle school, but I always chickened out before anything could go further. I still couldn't tell him I was a virgin. Eventually, I asked him to take me home, despite his tempting offer to spend the night. I just couldn't, yet. He glanced at the rear view mirror, as if checking for following cars, "Miss Davies? Why are you asking about her?" I shrugged. It was a stupid question. Deep down I wanted him to despise her as much as I did. Seeing Persephone throw herself at him made me feel insecure. Especially now. Was I the only one who had been in his car before? His apartment? He sighed, "She is just a student." "A student with big boobs." I mumbled it under my breath, but he heard me. As evidenced by his scoff. I rubbed my face. I didn't miss the fact that I was also just a student. I was still tired and now I was grumpy to boot. It occurred to me that I was being ridiculous, but I was too emotionally charged in that moment to be logical. "Danica, I know she gives you a hard time, but she can't be all bad. I don't know what has happened to cause this feud between you two, but maybe you should try to reconcile." Come to think of it, I wasn't sure myself how this all began. Maybe one day I would ask her. "Do you, uh, did you ever... like her?" He laughed, strong and deep, "And there's the real question. No, I have never liked Miss Davies." I nodded. It really was a stupid question. "She's accused me of sleeping with you in the past." "I am aware." "You aren't concerned?" "Frankly, no. What are a few inconsistent and unfounded rumors anyway? Besides, I'll just be especially mean to you and no one will suspect." "...Okay." I guess it made sense. "I'm joking with you." He squeezed my thigh, "Nothing will change as far as I'm concerned." He pulled into my driveway and I felt almost sad to leave. Quite a change from the dread that had threatened to undo me the first and second time around. "I'll see you tomorrow? Correction, later today?" He leaned closer to me. "Actually... well, I planned on being sick tomorrow." He frowned. "You seem perfectly healthy to me." "I was going to get some sleep. The papers you had me write really exhausted me. I had to pull a couple of all-nighters to get them done and keep up with my other work." He nodded, "Yes, I felt a little guilty when I gave it to you. Alright then Love." He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me into a deep kiss. His tongue claimed my mouth as his hand kneaded the skin between my shoulders. I could stay in this car forever, screw the neighbors. He pulled away, but not before dropping one last chaste kiss on my mouth. "Sleep well, Danica." I stumbled out of the car and wobbled up the driveway. He waited until my front door was open and hall lights were on before pulling away. I was too hot and heated to do anything but immediately run upstairs and alleviate the wet heat burning between my thighs. ~*~*~ "Try this one..." Abby threw yet another tiny dress at me. She had been trying to squeeze me into the skimpiest things she owned since she showed up on my door step that afternoon. I sighed and checked my phone. Nothing. Still nothing. I had written my number on a post-it and stuck it to Jefferson's fridge last night. But still no calls or texts. Maybe I was right all along. It was after 7pm now and Abby was growing increasingly impatient with me. The party started at 8:30 and I was dragging my feet. Secretly, I was pleading for Jefferson to call me and help me find and excuse not to have to go. "Abby, I'm really not feeling this." She huffed, "I think I have another one." "Not the dress, the whole party." "Don't bail on me nooooow!" Here came the whining. "You have to come! Okay, I didn't want to tell you but, when you bailed on me the other day for Mr. Bailey, don't think Persephone didn't catch wind of that, Felton gave a ride to Alton too and we kind of hit it off. So I need you there, so I don't look like a loser who came alooooonnnne, when he comes up and talks to me. Besides, what else have you got to do? Sit at home and watch re-runs?" "Alton? Alton Moore?!" I was incredulous, "Alton 'Skeezeball' Moore who grabbed your boob freshman year?!" "Yes, calm down you prude. He apologized. And I always have your back. You owe me one." "Just yesterday, I was dragged away over your fight." "A fight I got into for you. Besides you didn't get in trouble, which Persephone has also gotten wind of." I was defeated, "Fine, but I am not wearing any of these dresses. I look like a child prostitute." "Great! Also, okay don't freak out, but Felton is picking us up." ~*~*~ I was sure my fingers were developing frostbite. Skinny jeans didn't afford much protection against the cold, even with my brown knee high boots. I had rejected every item of clothing Abby had brought over and instead decided to stick with one of my flouncy tank tops. I went for my leather jacket, but Abby wisely pointed out that after a few drinks I would be hot and it would disappear as soon as I laid it down. I had allowed her to lightly curl my hair until it made graceful waves all the way down my back. She ignored me when I repeatedly informed her that I didn't see the point. Who was I trying to impress? No one going to this party. Abby was noticeably shivering as we waited for Felton on my driveway. She had on a tiny skin-tight black dress that left nothing to the imagination. This was probably the most I had seen of her body the entire time I had known her and I had to admit she had a nice shape. She was taller than I realized, or rather her legs were longer than I had ever noticed, and she was slim through her hips. She had gotten her hair straightened earlier, one of the new keratin treatments that took girls from crazy hair to pin straight in an hour. I was surprised that it was so long in this form, draping over her shoulders and ghosting over her breasts like some fairy nymph. I felt bad for her when her teeth chattered loud enough for me to hear, but refrained from huddling closer since I was so irate with her for once again using my predicament with Felton to her benefit. I had stomped off and drank one of my dad's beers from the fridge to calm myself down. He never cared, taking the "better in my house than anywhere else" stance. Round headlights swung onto my street and I knew it was Felton's mustang. It had been a gift from his dad when he had gotten his driver's license. It was one of the reasons I found him so detestable. That car was all he cared about, having even told me to "watch the leather" when we were in his backseat. He pulled up next to the curb and rolled down the window, blond hair shining under the street lights as he leaned toward us. "Come on," he waived us over, "Let's get this thing started!" I hesitated even as Abby bounced down the driveway in her too tall heels. How she planned on lasting the evening in those was a mystery to me. She opened the door and crawled into the back firmly pulling the passenger seat back into place in front of her. Damn, she was trying my patience. I slid into the seat, hoping I didn't look slutty enough to be a possibility to him tonight. No sooner was my seat belt fastened than his hand landed on my thigh and gripped hard. He must have known I wasn't a willing participant in all of this to lock me so firmly into place. Although, I had considered jumping out as soon as my ass hit the seat. He peeled out of my street with frightening speed and I couldn't help but wonder if this show was for me. Suddenly, Jefferson's grandma style driving didn't seem so bad. By the time we reached the party I was bargaining with God. I was just about to relinquish my budding student-teacher relationship when the car whirled around, ripping a scream from my throat. Felton burst into raucous laughter, "Relax Dani, it's just a donut!" I got out of the car and slammed the door. A crowd of kids had gathered on the front lawn of the party house and were equal parts laughing at my outburst and commenting on how well executed the stunt had been. Abby grinned at me through the rear window. No remorse from her. I marched across the lawn and into the house, eager to get this over with and go home. Hot and sticky slammed into my senses. Teenagers were milling about everywhere and it took me a moment to orient myself and figure out which direction the kitchen was in. I began squeezing through the crowd, glancing behind me every few steps to make sure Felton wasn't on my tail. I'd had all the Felton I could take for the evening. The kitchen was packed with boys from the school's sports teams and a few girls from Persephone's posse. If they were here that meant the boss was wandering about somewhere. I knew this was a terrible idea. "Dani! You seen Abby?" Alton yelled at me as I waded up to the makeshift bar. Two freshmen were serving some sort of clear concoction and beer from behind the breakfast bar. This was the only way underclassmen got into these sort of things. I squinted up at him, the overhead light casting his face in shadow, "We just got here. She's probably right behind me." He nodded and then waived down one of the kids. "You want beer or liquor?" "What's in the liquor?" He shrugged and stared at me expectantly. I bit the bullet, "Liquor." He yelled to the kid that approached us "Liquor and a beer, dude." The kid ran to the keg sitting in the corner and pumped out an overly frothy light beer. He reached for a second solo cup and poured equal amounts of vanilla vodka, coconut rum, and peach schnapps into it before topping it with sprite. I grimaced. I was sure that drink would kill me. He slammed the plastic cups down before moving onto the guy slurring next to me. "Bottoms up." Alton knocked my cup with his and waited for me to raise the beverage to my lips before downing his foam. My mouth was flooded in sugary alcohol. And it tasted awful. Next time I would stick with beer. Abby tottered up to the bar and slipped in on the other side of Alton. She narrowed her eyes at me, "Felton is looking for you. He feels bad." "I'm sure he does." I slipped into the crowd and headed toward the rear of the house. The back door to the backyard had been left open and I took the opportunity to get some air. Here and there were pockets of people making out around the garden. I chugged my drink and checked my phone for the 50th time that night. Nothing. Finding a spot in the rear of the garden, I stood next to the fence to wait out Abby and her new boy toy. Highschoolers came and went, occasionally glancing my way, confused as to why I was holing up in the corner. A few kids waved, but most went along their way, too interested in their own lives to worry about mine. Four girls came running into the yard, shouting for "Janelle" and found her in the opposite corner nearly unconscious and being rudely groped by some guy that didn't even go to our school. What commenced was a Jerry Springer type fight of hair pulling and slapping until the girls finally backed off the random teenager and dragged their friend away. I would never attend one of these things again. Arms wrapped around my waist from behind and Felton's head rested on my shoulder. I needed more to drink. "Dani, I'm sorry for pissing you off," he whispered, "Let me make it up to you." "Felton..." I was trying to pry his arms off of me with all I had. He only tightened his grip. I didn't stand much of a chance, he was twice my size and rock solid. "Come on, let's get you a refill and then we can talk. Okay?" He squeezed for emphasis. "Okay..." It came out as a breathy gasp and he chuckled, no doubt thinking he was somehow wooing me. In actuality, he had pushed all of the air from my lungs. Felton herded me back into the house and up against the bar. He hugged my body within his as he called for one of the freshmen. I felt Felton rub his semi into my ass and I had half a mind to turn around a slap him. That was until I noticed Abby bent backwards over the bar with Alton's tongue down her throat. That was fast. I was on my own from this point. I checked my phone. Nothing. Two cups slammed down in front of me. Both liquor. So much for beer. Felton handed one to me and waived for me to follow him. As he headed down the kitchen stairs to the basement, I froze on the top step. Basements were an orgy waiting to happen. No way. He glanced up at me questioningly. I shook my head "no". He sighed and ascended at a frightening pace. He was in front of me in no time and grabbed my wrist to wrench me along with him, the contents of my cup sloshing all over my hand. I had no choice, I was going down either way, willingly or not. I stumbled onto the sub floor and glanced around the dim room. My eyes took a moment to focus, but eventually I was able to discern the beat up old couches lining the walls and the shapes of couples groping one another amongst them. "Felton," I hissed, "I'm going back upstairs." I turned to walk away, but found Felton's hand still wrapped around my wrist, keeping me firmly at his side. "Let me go!" I whispered as loudly as possible while trying not to call attention to us. "Dani, you said we could talk. Stop freaking out and let's sit down." He pulled me toward the back of the room and manhandled me onto a vacant loveseat. I looked around uneasily. This is where reputations were ruined. By the end of the night this place would be packed. Couples would resort to sitting on the floor and a XXX version of spin the bottle would be in full swing. It felt dirty. "Last year... Dani look at me," I turned to face him and realized we were practically nose to nose. Felton waited until he had my full attention. He wasn't unattractive by any means, hence my judgment lapse last year. He had strong, sharp features and was built solid, a total athlete and over six feet. He had been approached by some modeling scout last year and had made sure the entire school knew the details before winter break. I was well aware of the benefits my reputation would get from dating a varsity jock, but he made my skin crawl. Mr. Bailey "Please what, Miss Peterson?" He was quiet himself. I was snapped back to reality by the sound of the school bells, screaming for the end of lunch. I skittered away and pulled myself off of the floor. Mr. Bailey rose gracefully, dusting off his pants and the arms of his blazer. "Miss Peterson, don't be late." I nodded and ran for the door. I was perfectly incapacitated in my final class. I couldn't be bothered to pay attention or focus on even the tiniest detail. I gave up in frustration and excused myself to the nurse's office. She took my symptoms for the beginning of the flu, although the thermometer beeped a resounding and healthy "no". Normal temperature. I was ushered to a cot in the back room until school ended, at which time I assured her my Mother would be picking me up. The door closed behind me and I was left alone with my thoughts. "Please what, Miss Peterson?" Mr. Bailey repeated pulling my chin to face him. "What do you want?" Gruff, definitely gruff. I leaned toward him, only slightly, just enough to feel his breath. "Miss Peterson?" His hand kneaded the flesh between my shoulder blades. "Kiss me." His mouth descended on mine. He was hungry and forceful, pulling at me and searching. His hand wove its way between my breasts and mashed each one. He faded away. I knew I had the wrong Mr. Peterson. It was more like Felton Paul from last year, who I had let get to second base and nearly third before my better judgment had set in. I hadn't been imagining a man, but rather an amateur. I was dismayed and flustered. Touching myself to this incomplete image was doing me no good except to put me in a bad mood. ~*~*~ I waited for most of Mr. Bailey's class to file out, before entering. Persephone Davies was leaning across Mr. Bailey's desk with her décolletage spilling out of her too-tight school uniform. He sat quietly marking a paper as she watched enamored. I pictured a huge light bulb appearing above my head as I clued into Persephone's ulterior motive. I stood in the doorway, gnawing at my lip as I watched her hips sway along the side of the desk. No wonder she had been riding me for weeks, Persephone had a crush on him. And here she was pushing herself on him like some common harlot. There was no way he would ever entertain that behavior, right? I felt my forehead start to ache and it occurred to me that I had been wearing an extreme frown. I imagined I looked something like Elmer Fudd and tried to rub the wrinkles away before they set and I looked that way for life. At least that's what Abby had always warned me against. "Miss Peterson?" Mr. Bailey looked up at me through his eyelashes. "Have a seat." Persephone pulled herself up from her deep lean as Mr. Bailey offhandedly passed her the paper he had been marking. He didn't look at her. "This is terribly sloppy Ms. Davies. I suggest you spend less time testing the boundaries of the dress code and more time on your writing skills. I expect better work than this sub-par dribble." Persephone visibly winced, as though his assault had been physical and not only verbal. "Yes Sir." "You are excused Ms. Davies." Mr. Bailey gave Persephone a look that even made me cower and she exited with her head down and cotton candy lips trembling. Mr. Bailey sighed and then waved me forward. "Bring your work, stand just here." He pointed to the other side of his desk. I stood where instructed and set my essays down in front him. "Ms. Peterson, I did not say to drop your papers all over my desk. Pick them back up." I did as I was told and waited for his next instruction. "Now begin reading aloud and I will tell you when to stop." By the beginning of my second essay my legs were trembling. It seemed Mr. Bailey stopped me at every other sentence to edit or correct, question or clarify. My back had begun to cramp and I was feeling light headed. I could practically hear my bed calling my name. Dani... I flushed in anger as Mr. Bailey interrupted me again. He was questioning my character assessment in his lilting English accent when I braced myself on his desk. "Miss Peterson?!" His voice rose an octave in surprise, "What on earth is the matter with you?" He had stood to brace me by the shoulders. I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the absurdity of the situation. "I'm sorry Sir. I'm just so tired. I've been lightheaded for the better part of two days." He nodded solemnly, "Alright, I can finish this on my own, I suppose. Come along, let's get you home." I froze. The car. Again. "I can take the bus." "You most certainly cannot. Pick up your things, we are leaving." He held the door for me as we exited and I found that he kept substantially closer to my side than I felt was necessary. I was sweating bullets as we approached his vehicle, parked alone in the lot. A strong breeze danced around my plaid skirt and blew my hair across my face. The smell of Mr. Bailey carried on the wind. The perfect mixture of strong, clean man filled my nostrils and I attempted to sniff it like cocaine. I was headed for trouble. How could I keep this obsession in check when he was constantly tempting me? As if on cue, Abby came jogging through the parking lot, flashing far more thigh than was appropriate per school dress code. She stopped short at the sight of Mr. Bailey, which I can imagine must have looked very peculiar, "Danica?" Yes, very, very peculiar. Mr. Bailey and I came to a halt and I stared at her for the briefest of moments, "Hey Abby." I felt my eyes tighten with worry as she glanced between myself and Mr. Bailey. "I, uh..." She directed her attention to the asphalt and frowned, "Felton is about to leave soccer practice. He offered us a ride." She met my eyes with a sly grin. I was sure the only way she had secured that ride was by promising my involvement. Felton had been attempting to get me back in his car since our initial incident. I cringed. Controlling my teenage impulses for fifteen minutes or attempting yet again to control Felton's? The scales were still wavering and I had to choose. "Miss Connelly, while I'm sure Miss Peterson is more than appreciative of the offer, I must insist that I take her safely home. I am responsible for her being here so late, after all." Mr. Bailey's words laid any protest to rest. My shoulders dropped as the realization hit me. I didn't have to decide. Mr. Bailey had done that for me. I had half a mind to saunter off with Abby without so much as a glance backwards just to prove he couldn't push me around. I turned to face him, fully prepared to explain why I wasn't going to be going with him. He appeared angry. I had never seen him anything but fully composed. This was unsettling, to say the least. I waived a dejected goodbye and held my hand to my ear in the universal sign for "I'll call you" to a rather miffed Abby as I followed Mr. Bailey to his car. He opened the gold door to his vintage Mercedes and directed me inside. It was a beautiful day out, much the contrast to the gloom and doom of the first time he took me home. He lowered into the driver seat, shut the door soundly and turned toward me. My hands tingled with anticipation and I looked sidelong at Mr. Bailey. "Felton Paul is not the kind of young man you should be hanging out with Danica." I tried my best to stifle a laugh. If only he knew my deep distrust of the "young man" and his roaming hands. "I'm well aware Mr. Bailey." A frown spread across his handsome face and he turned away and started the car with gumption. He drove faster than normal, which was average compared to the careful and calculated "Granny" driving he seemed more inclined to. "Mr. Bailey?" I chanced a look in his direction to find him decidedly focused on the road. "Miss Peterson..." I sighed, "Are you mad at me?" He blinked and looked at me once, twice, then turned his focus back to the road. "Danica, why would you think that?" "I uh, I don't know. You seem upset." "I am not upset. Most definitely concerned and slightly puzzled. But upset? No." I nodded, turning my attention back to the passenger window. The car turned down the street to my house and pulled into the empty driveway. It was time for me to make a quick exit. I snatched my bag from the floorboard and scrambled for the door handle. It didn't pop and it took me a moment to realize I had to pull the door lock up. I fumbled with it. Each passing second I felt more cagey and frantic. Was it hotter in this damn car? My heart was pounding in my ears. My palms were sweating. I felt faint. Jesus Dani, calm down! "Danica?" His hand wrapped around my forearm and I gasped. His fingers were warm against my clammy skin. They pressed in as his grip tightened and I watched as he pulled my arm toward him. His other hand swept past my field of vision with a spectacular amount of grace and laid hold to my chin. He directed my gaze to him. "Danica, are you alright?" I stared at him dumbly. Why did he do this to me? I took a few breaths, gathered my thoughts and looked into his eyes, "It's been a long week." Mr. Bailey pursed his lips, "The week is not even over yet. It's only Thursday Miss Peterson." It didn't escape me that he had gone back to using my last name. "Yes sir. I'm well aware." I turned back to the door, but found he still held my arm in his grip. "Are you sure you're alright? You are exceptionally fidgety today and you seem ready to fall at a moment's notice. It is obvious no one is home," He waived his free hand at the empty driveway, "When will your parents be arriving?" The heat radiating off of my cheeks was telling, "They are out of town until after next weekend." Mr. Bailey looked me over with a slow nod. He pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed. It was a tense moment. "Danica...I can't simply leave you here in your current state. You've practically fainted twice today, that I even know of." He put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. "Put your seat belt on." I did as I was told and cringed, "Where are we going?" "Ms. Peterson I assume you are able to keep a discretionary silence?" He looked over at me as he turned from my street and into traffic. "We are going to my flat. I imagine you can understand the sensitive nature of this situation." I nodded gravely and tried not to throw up. ~*~*~ Mr. Bailey lived on the top floor of a five story condominium downtown. We squeezed into the ridiculously claustrophobic elevator and I tried to keep my lightheaded swaying from being too noticeable as the tiny box shot up into the heavens. When the doors opened I shot out into the carpeted hall and practically doubled over. As Mr. Bailey stepped into the hall and waited for me to regain my composure, I realized he seemed to be growing accustomed to my crazy behavior. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Mr. Bailey opened the door to apartment 521 and I found myself peering inside with express distrust. Not of him, rather of myself. A hand on the small of my back gently pushed me forward, "Come along Danica..." It was a beautiful place. Dark hardwood floors led through the hall into the kitchen on the left and further on into the living room. There was a deep grey, plush rug running the length of the hall way that matched the granite in the kitchen. The right side of the hall held a long bookcase that was packed to the brim with books old and new. I ran my fingers along them, glancing over the titles. I could spend days here, buried in pages. And maybe Mr. Bailey. The place smelled like him. I had to fight the urge not to inhale too deeply. I spied an open door in the living room and felt flutters. His bedroom. Ah, Jesus, was that his arm wrapping around my hips? I glanced down. Why yes. Yes it was. He guided me toward the living room and deposited me on the couch. "Now lie down". He pulled the throw that had been placed just so across the back of the couch and handed it to me. "I can tell you're exhausted. I'll make some tea and then you will rest until I am sure you are quite better." "Sir you don't have to do this." I was far too nervous to sleep anyway. For the first time in days I was wide awake. "I can call Fenton," Did I really just offer that as an option? "Or take the bus home or something. It's what I would have done on any other day." His brows knit together and his strong jaw clenched. Handsome and ... menacing. "The matter is not open for discussion Danica." I was more than slightly startled at the venom in his words. Anger shot up my esophagus and before I could stop it the words flew out of my mouth, "Well that's just ridiculous. You can't hold me here." He leaned back and looked down his nose at me. A small smile lifted at the corner of his mouth and I didn't miss the threat behind it. We stared each other down. I was not going to look away. I was pissed, hungry, tired, frustrated... Horny... Don't look away Danica... Don't do it... Don't you dare... I looked away. His smug snort made my cheeks burn. His shoes clicked toward the kitchen and shortly I heard cabinets opening and closing. That was that. He had won again. What an arrogant bastard! How could I be attracted to that?! My vision became blurry and I realized I was moments from crying. This couldn't get worse. I turned away from the hallway to the windows along the far wall. I had to calm down. A few deep breaths and I would be fine. Just breathe. My gaze rose up to the ceiling as I attempted to will the tears back to where they came from. My heart finally stopped pounding and I felt a little more stable, but the tears wouldn't dissipate. The couch dipped beside me and I knew my time was up. I heard the clinking of glass on wood and knew he was putting mugs down on the coffee table. I was stronger than this. I was more disciplined than this. And yet, here I was being a crybaby. "Danica." His hand touched my knee and it was too much. I felt a fat salty tear roll over and knew I was done for. His hand curled under my chin and dragged my gaze toward him, but I found I couldn't look him in the eyes. "Danica look at me." I shook my head. Nope, not happening. This was mortifying enough as it was. "Danica look at me or so help me..." I reluctantly looked up. I felt pathetic. I had no power against him at all. "Now explain to me why you are crying." "I'm really tired." It wasn't a lie... "And why else?" I took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any. "I don't know. You...you drive me insane." He raised his eyebrows at that one. "Insane in what way Danica?" I shook my head. That was all he was getting from me today. I had already said too much. "Insane in what way?" He leaned closer to me. His lips had formed the words but I barely heard the sound. Everything faded away and I knew my control was about to slip. He opened his mouth. His lips softly formed my name and I glanced up to see his dark eyes watching me closely. They were my undoing. I kissed him. Quickly, softly. Nothing more than sweet lips and my frantic breathing. The kiss was everything I wanted and had dreamed of and somehow I was still hungry. I wanted more. I bit his lip. I pulled it slightly and then let go, sighing. My eyes snapped open and my hand flew up to cage my reckless mouth. What the hell have I just done? He licked his bottom lip, staring at me all the while. My breath hitched when his arm wrapped around my back and his fingers painfully dug into my hip. I found myself on my back before I even realized what had happened. Mr. Bailey's lips latched onto mine and when his tongue sought entry, he found no resistance from me. His kiss was agonizing, slowly exploring and stroking my mouth. His arm tightened around my back lifting my body to meld deliciously into his. I felt like I was dreaming. I was vaguely aware of strong hips settling between my thighs until he had started a torturous rhythm. He ground into me with all of the methodical grace of a jungle cat. I laced my hands through his thick dark hair. It felt silky under my fingertips. How many times had I imagined doing just this and yet it never held a candle to the real thing? He groaned into my mouth, dark and grating. I was feverish with need, whimpering in return. My skirt rode up my hips and I was sure that at this rate I would be leaving a particularly embarrassing wet spot on his pants, but in the moment I couldn't care less. He was rubbing his bulge against my clit with slow determination. It was almost painful. Wonderfully, mind numbingly painful. I tried to speed up, begged him to, but he only pushed my thighs farther apart and laid a firm hand on my ribs to still me. His tongue slipped under mine and gave a long hard stroke. A shiver shot down my spine and delved into depths I hadn't even known existed. I suddenly couldn't breathe. I was suffocating in pleasure. I pushed, panting around his mouth to fill my lungs with air. He didn't stop, instead transferring his feverish kissing to my neck. I moaned loud and slightly begging. He laid deep kisses down the vain I was sure was popping out from under my skin and traced my collar bone with his tongue. I was roiling with need as his fingers traced over my flesh from nape to shoulder. He slid his free hand up from my rib cage to cup my right breast. I heard a button pop and it crossed my mind to stop the needless destruction of my clothing. That was right up until his fingers liberated my breast from my bra and he granted my nipple a kiss. I watched as he swirled his tongue around, his dark eyes looking up to meet mine. He smirked and then sucked the point into his mouth, diverting his attention back to the task at hand. He flicked my nipple gently at first and then a little harder and a little harder until he drew a breathy whine from my lips. More popped buttons and then he switched sides, granting my left breast the same treatment until I was writhing under him. He crawled up my body and kissed me soundly once more. His hand slid up my naked thigh and he hitched my leg around his waist. "Danica," he breathed into my ear, "cum for me." He swung his hips around and dug into my pussy with particular force. I was so close. My stomach was contracting in anticipation of the intense orgasm just below the surface. He hit my spot again just right and his deep moans threw me into a tailspin. "Mr. Bailey," I was begging now, "Please..." He growled, the sexiest sound I swear I've ever heard, as he swung his hips again. Boom... My lungs stopped working as my body exploded. I couldn't do anything but shudder and ride the waves of pleasure. I can die happily now. Finally air returned to my lungs and I moaned wantonly into his ear, no longer caring how I sounded. My back arched, seemingly out of my control and his hand wrapped around and supported me as I heard him groan and curse to himself. His fingers dug into my thigh as he pumped faster, harder, riding me until he cried out and came. He nipped and licked the soft tendon between my neck and shoulder, forcing my body to jolt with the last of the energy I had left. As our breathing slowed he sighed and looked up at me. I smiled at his beautiful eyes as I faded from consciousness.