Page 11 of Her Forbidden Teacher

“Always. You’ve been seeing a side of me that doesn’t come out often. Sassy is the real me. It’s my middle name, in fact.”

We both chuckle as she takes a seat at the picnic table.

“You’re doing better,” I say, still smiling but with more seriousness. “I’m glad to see it.”

“A bit,” she admits as she pulls off her backpack to set it beside her. “It’s been a rough week.”

“Want to talk about it?”

She opens her mouth like she might do just that, but then several students enter the greenhouse, loud voices carrying. Her body stiffens. “Another time.”

As much as I want to push, I know I can’t. Not if I really want to find out what’s been going on with her. These other students know, though, to a certain degree, because they all give her nasty looks. My blood boils and I irrationally want to grab each one of them up by their shirt to demand what their problem is with Addison.

“I’ll hold you to it,” I say under my breath so only she can hear.

I hold her gaze long enough her cheeks turn pink, and satisfaction is thrumming through me. I’m playing a dangerous game with her, but something deep in my gut tells me to protect this girl at all costs.

As if I could ever argue against that.

Detention isn’t bad. I’m happy to help a fellow teacher and new friend out. If it means he gets to go home earlier to see his family, I’m good with that. At least one of us has a happy family to go home to.

While the students sleep or work on homework, I open my laptop to look through the FFA and Greenhouse Club applications. My heart sinks when I see only one in each folder.For FFA, school policy requires at least five participants. It’s a bummer. Luckily, Greenhouse Club is on my own dime and time, so I can still hold it even if it’s just one person.

Addison Monahan.

She’s the only applicant on each one.

My stomach tightens with nerves, and I wonder what the hell that’s about. I feel bad I’ll have to tell her FFA is out. A part of me is already looking forward to time alone with her in the greenhouse.

Sick fucker.

It’s not like that, though.

Liar.

You can’t keep your eyes off her legs or her supple lips that always look deliciously wet.

I shift in my chair behind the desk, fully aware my cock is thickening in my slacks. It’s ridiculously inappropriate. Thinking about Mary Ellen’s cruel sneers and vicious words has it flagging. I knew she was useful for something.

“Anyone want to join FFA or Greenhouse Club?” I ask to the silent classroom.

Several people laugh as if I’m joking and a few emphatically shake their heads no.

Looks like it’s just me and Addison.

Or I could cancel Greenhouse Club altogether. That would be the wise thing to do. Yes, I have to do it.

My heat sinks but I ignore it, determined to be strong against my inappropriate desires. Having Addison in my classroom with a room full of people is hard enough. I don’t know how I’d do if it were just the two of us.

The detention bell rings and the kids bolt out of the room damn near fast enough to make my head spin. I gather my stuff and head for the faculty parking lot. Someone’s tires squeal as they peel out, leaving a solitary car in the lot.

I know that car.

It’s Addison’s.

Alarm has me tossing my crap in the truck and then striding her way. She’s looking down at her phone as the air conditioner blasts her in the face. Her blonde hair dances around her face.

I drum my fingers on her windshield, startling her. Her frown almost immediately melts into a bright grin that does things to me. I feel it right in the center of my chest. A sucker punch.