Page 26 of Apparently, I’m Trouble

I had to admit, the man looked like he’d fuck me into his mattress and leave me limping afterward.

After over a year of being in an exclusive relationship with my vibrator, the thought of getting my clit licked by an actual tongue held more appeal than I wanted to admit.

And now my panties were getting all wet and tight just thinking about his head between my legs.

But he was the father of one of my students. And he was awful to me. Didn’t either of those facts count for anything?

Judging by the gentle throb pulsing in my lower half, apparently not. I sat on my heel and rocked against it to dull the ache.

Ugh. How did I get here? In this headspace where I was a breath away from gripping my trusty purple penis mold? I couldn’t believe I wanted to shove it into myself while fantasizing about Theo plowing me into the porch he’d made. Not ideal.

I sighed and unlocked my phone. Could I talk to Lilly about this?

Before, I was so sure that I’d never sleep with Theo. Now, I was genuinely afraid that somehow, the universe was forcing me into doing exactly that.

If I told her, how would she react?

A special brand of Lilly-related tunnel vision pressed itself into me, and all I could see was my best friend holding her stomach, fighting off a burst of chronic-anxiety-induced puking.

All because I’d told her I’d waltzed into a horny novel and had no choice but to lie there as Theo Hudson worked his big, thick, juicy cock in and out of me.

Nope. That wasn’t a conversation I could have.

“I can’t call her,” I muttered.

But I could check the handbook. Just for some clarity.

I dragged my laptop to rest on my folded knees, feeling my pulse slow as I clicked on the South Bronx Classical Teacher Handbook.

Words like duty of care and social media standards blurred past as I looked for something–anything–that would help me figure out how to handle this.

Finally, I paused on Section 11.3: Teacher-Parent Relations.

While all parents should be treated with professional distance and respect… a teacher can maintain her license and the relationship… biased grading with the student in question…

Okay, so this made sense.

Before one of our more experienced teachers retired, she’d been seeing a single father who had decided to send his son to our school.

To avoid biased grading, we managed some scheduling magic to make sure she didn’t teach her potential stepson, and in the end, it was fine. No license was lost, no one pointed any fingers, and I assumed the student wasn’t scarred for life.

It turned out okay in the end.

I blinked, then muttered, “Why am I even looking this up? I’m not going to sleep with him.”

I was being ridiculous.

So he’d tried to convince me to fake-kiss him. It wasn’t like he’d made an actual move on me. He was upset because he didn’t want his daughter kissing Miles in front of the entire school, and honestly, I felt the same.

But it was Gem’s play, not mine. I didn’t get the final say.

I shook my head and pushed my laptop to one side, deciding to channel all this energy into something productive. I settled into my cushions and dragged my tote bag full of assessments close.

Diving deep into my students’ written work would definitely pull my thoughts away from climbing Theo like a tree.

I pulled out a handful and twisted my lips to the side as I eyed Kira’s name on her typed-out essay.

What were the odds that I’d pick hers first?