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three
Zane
I stiffenwithin my jeans when I see her the next morning. Christ, but she dresses more like a sexy secretary than an elementary school teacher. I never had such a hot little piece for a teacher in grade school, anyway.
My eyes sweep her from head to toe, taking in the navy pencil skirt and sky blue button-up she's wearing. The color of her top perfectly matches her eyes. It enhances them, making them appear even lighter behind those tortoiseshell frames that only bring out the hint of gold in her hair.
Next, I scan her shapely calves, my eyes falling down to rest on the sensible navy pumps she's wearing. They're classic and close-toed with a nice heel but nothing too outrageous. How I'd love to caress her calves, those legs thrown over my shoulder, those shoes on her feet as I drive deep within her, making her mine.
Mine. She should be mine.
That familiar ache of longing lodges deep in my chest, and I take in a shaky breath as I begin to follow along behind her—at a distance of course.
This is our weekday morning ritual. I meet her like this and walk her to school. She doesn't live far from the institution she works at, but there's no way in hell I’m taking any chances with her safety. I shadow her every step of the way to make sure no one messes with her.
I'd burn this whole city to the ground if someone hurt her. I'm not being dramatic either. I'm motherfucking serious. One hair on her head gets harmed, and I'd blow this whole place up.
So, really I'm doing a human service by following her and making sure she's okay.
Once she's safely inside the building, I retreat to a more secluded location in the park near the school. I lounge on my usual bench with my legs stretched out in front of me and pull up my feeds inside the school.
Yeah, I know it's illegal to bug a school, but ask me if I give a fuck.
I only bugged her classroom. I can tap into the cameras already in the hallways and common areas, but the school doesn't have any cameras in the teachers' individual classrooms, and I can't very well leave Anne alone all that time.
I can't stop the smile that pulls at the corners of my lips as I watch her teaching her students. She smiles at them kindly, and there's a light in her eyes as she pays each student individual attention.
It's obvious from the adoring way they look up at her that they worship her. And I can't say I really blame them. I worship her too.
She takes them through math, English, and social studies, and then the bell rings for lunch.
I watch her walk over to her little personal fridge where she keeps some premade salads and fruit. It pleases me to no end that she mostly chooses to stay in her room and eat her lunch alone rather than join the other teachers in the teacher's lounge.
I grab an apple out of my own pocket and take a bite out of it, sharing this lunchtime with her.
My hand tightens on the fruit when a knock sounds on her door. I frown, pissed off that someone is interrupting our time together.
She walks over to the door to see who it is, and I drop my apple, my vision blurring red for a moment, when I see the pompous fucker on the other side of the door.
"Ron," she greets him in surprise.
"Hello, Anne," he purrs as he leans in her doorway.
My lip curls up into a sneer.
"Can I help you?" she asks in confusion. She makes no move to step back and allow him entry into her classroom, and I mentally cheer her. Good girl.
"Actually, you can," he practically croons down at her. It couldn't be more obvious what the fucker really wants. He was just hired last week, and I've had my eye on him. Something about the way he looked at my Annie the first time he saw her told me he was going to be a problem.
"I packed way too much lunch and wondered if you'd like to share it with me."
Anne looks surprised, but then she smiles at him. My anger flares up at her smiling at any man. I'm partially mollified when she shakes her head, though. "I'm sorry, Ron, but I've already got lunch." She motions over to her desk where her half-eaten salad sits.
I glance back at the fucker smugly. There. Take that. She's clearly not interested.
To my mortification, he pushes off her doorway and pushes his way into the room, brushing his body against hers before she has a chance to fully step back and give him entry.
"That's okay," he says, "Mind if I just keep you company then?"
