Page 8 of Sinful Lessons


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“Something needs to be done about his harassing students. It’s not right.”

Adrianna arches a brow. “Do you think that an academy for a bunch of criminals cares what is right or wrong?”

“Touché,” I say.

Coach approaches us. “Enough chit chat. Get to work ladies, or I’ll have you in detention after class with me.” His eyes objectively dart down the length of Adrianna and then back to her eyes. “Perhaps that’s exactly what you want, Miss. Vasquez.” He winks.

Adrianna glares at him and gets into position in front of me. “You flip me.”

I’ve never been good at combat. Adrianna is amazing and sporty and is always the head of the class, even in front of the guys. Elias is a close second, though.

I get into the stance that Coach had adopted in front of her and then lunge forward, grabbing Adrianna’s shoulder and trying to use my weight to flip her to the floor. It goes about as well as I’d expect as I end up tumbling to the floor with her.

Both of us burst into laughter. “You are useless at this,” she says.

“I know.” I get back up and offer her my hand, which she takes. “I wish combat training wasn’t compulsory.”

“So do I this year. I’ve always loved it, but not now.” She glares over at Coach, who is making the rounds. “Coach is making me hate it.”

“It sucks. How can you get him to stop?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Beats me. It seems like the more I refuse him, the more determined he gets.” Her brow furrows. “As if he’s never been rejected before or something.”

“Maybe he hasn’t been rejected. I mean, look at him.” There’s no denying that Coach Daniels is hot as hell. With dark hair and dark eyes and a body to die for, covered in tattoos.

She sighs. “Looks aren’t everything.”

“What did I tell you both about chatting?” Coach barks behind me, making me jump.

I swallow hard and get into my stance. “Why don’t you flip me this time?”

Adrianna nods and lunges forward, effortlessly flipping me onto my back.

“Good work, Adrianna,” Coach says, moving on.

Adrianna helps me to my feet. “You think he’s so hot? Why don’t you try to get in his pants so he forgets about mine?”

I laugh at that. “He’s hot, but I don’t want to have sex with him.” And the reason is that I’m utterly obsessed with another professor entirely. If it were Nitkin, I’d be first in line, and probably the only one.

She turns her nose up. “Then stop telling me he’s hot. I don’t want anyone’s sloppy seconds. He’s had too many students in the time we’ve attended SA. It makes me sick.”

“True.” I stretch out my shoulder, which aches from the pressure Adrianna put on it.

“Quiet, both of you. I won’t ask you to keep your mouth shut again,” Coach barks behind us.

Even though everyone chats during combat training, the coach is singling us out, which makes me snap. I turn around and glare at him, rage slamming into me for some inexplicable reason, mainly because this asshole was just harassing Adrianna as if he has the right to and then tells us to shut up. “Maybe I’ll keep my mouth shut when you stop sexually harassing my friend and trying to get her to suck your cock.” The words escape my mouth before I can really think about it.

Adrianna’s eyes widen and she stares at me in disbelief.

Coach, who is always the most easygoing of the faculty staff, looks utterly furious as he walks toward me. “That’s it, Morrone. Go to Nitkin now. I won’t stand for you talking to me like that.”

I swallow hard at the mention of Professor Nitkin. “Sir, I’m sorry, I—”

“Now, Morrone. No getting out of it.”

I glance at Adrianna, who gives me an apologetic look, even though it’s not her fault. Yes, I was sticking up for her, but it’s about time someone did. And then, I turn and head out of the gym toward Nitkin’s office, my heart thundering in my chest.

Deep down, I think I wanted this to happen. This is the way to find out if my reactions in ninth grade to his punishment were a onetime thing or whether deep down I’m a masochist.

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