I glanced up at the house.
Nothing.
“Oh my God. What have we been feeding you? How can you still be shitting?”
He turned around to sniff at his poop like it was art, then began delicately covering the evidence of his foul play.
“Goddammit, Dottie,” I howled, pushing the gate open.
I dived over the flowerbed and sprinted across the perfectly manicured grass, but before I could reach Dottie, I heard his front door open.
No trespassing. Keep off the grass.
He didn’t need to say a word. The smug grin on his face said it all.
I chanced a glance at Dottie—but he’d already scarpered, abandoning me to Alistair’s wrath.
“No, wait! I can explain!” I shouted, just as he charged toward me.
Oh, hell no.
I turned and ran.
Let me tell you—I didn’t get far.
His arm wrapped around my waist, and his fingers caught my ponytail—all while lifting me clean off the ground.
“You broke my rules, Callie,” he growled.
His voice scraped down my spine like a dirty promise. When he carried me toward his house, I didn’t groan out of protest. I groaned because my pussy throbbed like it already knew what was coming.
“You’re mine now,” he said, slamming the door behind us.
He slid my backpack off, grabbed my wrist, and marched me to the stairs. No time to admire his house.
Stairs. Hallway. A closed door.
I barely had time to take in the room before he unbuttoned my jeans.
“Go bend over my desk,” he said, nudging me toward the massive setup—three monitors, cables, gear everywhere.
Was that a pair of binoculars on the shelf?
“What?” I asked, already moving.
He followed like a shadow.
“Do you know what happens to girls who tease men like me and break the rules?”
“Uh… we get to come multiple times?” I offered sweetly.
“No. You get spanked and filled up until you’re leaking like a faulty faucet,” he purred, yanking open a drawer.
I glanced down. Neatly divided compartments. Stationery arranged with military precision.
He reached for the fluorescent green ruler.
“First, we have a lesson. Then a test. Then I grade you.”
