“Why can’t I be here?”

“Because you fucking can’t! I don’t want you here.”

Jesus, what a fucking joke. I felt as though I was about to get struck by lightning over that huge lie. I had just caught this girl masturbating in her car, and all I could think about was watching her do it again, but this time in my bed.

“If I wasn’t your student—”

“You are my student, Addison. You’re my student, and I’m your teacher. This will never happen.”

“But if I wasn’t?”

“Go home.”

Just like that, I witnessed her nerves disappear before she demanded, “Answer me!”

I felt the headache throbbing behind my eyes and was disgusted by the fact it was keeping time with the blood pumping through my erect cock.

“You’re hard.”

As soon as her soft observation hit my ears, I told her again, “Go. Home.”

“Why are you so worried? No one is here, and I like it.”

“I’m not worried. I’m appalled. Appalled that someone as bright as you are feels like she has to throw herself at people to get attention. Not only boys, but someone my age.”

“How old are you? I’d guess thirty.”

“Again, these are all things that are none of your business, Addison. You know that. This behavior of yours needs to stop, or I’ll be forced to contact your parents.”

She laughed then, a sound so sweet and carefree that I wondered what exactly was going through her head. One minute she was the bright, promising schoolgirl and the next, a bold, reckless imitation of herself who seemed to constantly be pushing boundaries and searching for something…more.

“And what would you tell them? Hello, Mrs. Lancaster, I’m calling to let you know that your daughter has been turning up at my house and masturbating in her car. Oh, and can you please keep her away from me because she gives me a hard-on?”

I felt my anger course through me and was annoyed that it heightened my already misplaced arousal. I stepped closer, and she backed up hitting the car. The spark that lit her eyes provoked me even further, so I leaned down over her and did something I’d never done before. I threatened a woman. Worse, I threatened a girl.

“You’re trying my patience, Addison. You need to leave me alone. Get in the fucking car, and go home. Or you won’t like what happens next.”

Her eyes fell to my mouth and then came back up to meet mine, but instead of fear, which I’d hoped to instill, all I could sense was excitement.

Excitement and lust. The same emotions that were feeding my own.

“And if I stay?”

Before I could stop myself, I snatched a handful of her sports jacket in one of my fists and hauled her in close. Close enough that I could feel her breath against my lips.

“This is very dangerous, Addison. I’m not another one of your little boys that can be led around by their cock. Now. Leave.”

I released her and marched back to my house not even waiting to see if she followed my order.

* * *

Oh shit, I thought as I remained where he’d left me, pressed up against my car door. My legs were barely supporting me as my entire body trembled. My pussy was throbbing so hard I could literally feel each perverted pulse.

One, two, three.

I cupped myself, tightening my thighs around my fingers. Christ. He was so fucking intense.

Exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed.

I replayed his words and bit my bottom lip before removing my hand and walking around to the driver’s side.

When I passed by his house, I spotted him through his front window. I zeroed in on him and saw the frustration from seconds earlier still evident on his face.

I continued my secret perusal and witnessed something I knew he wouldn’t have wanted me to. Him—unbuckling and unzipping his jeans.

I didn’t care what Mr. McKendrick said; his body was calling for me, and I couldn’t help but respond.

* * *

Present…

“Addison? Addison. It’s time for your meds.”

The woman standing in the light blue scrubs is analyzing me as I sit on the old, broken-down couch in the common room.

“Addison?”

I wonder what she thinks of me—Slut? Skank? Whore?

It’s ironic. Before coming here, I wouldn’t have cared what she thought because I would’ve known I was perfect.

Not anymore.

According to them, I’m broken and in need of healing—less than perfect.

“Your meds. Here.” She passes me a small plastic cup with my pills. I take it from her as the TV switches stories.

Tick, tick, tock.

I’ve been waiting all afternoon for the news to come on just to see if it will be mentioned. Usually, I’m ushered out by now. Either sent back to my room or to see Doc, but someone must have forgotten because I’m still sitting here and it’s…

Tick, tick, tock.

Time.

I see the anchorman appear, and a few seconds later, his picture flashes across the screen.

Oh God. It feels like forever since I’ve seen that face.

I drop the pills and slide off the couch to crawl toward the TV. I kneel and place my fingers on the screen. Trying to touch, trying to reach him. Tears are sliding down my cheeks as the man on the TV continues talking about the “missing teacher.”

When I’m dragged from the room, all I can hear is, “As of tonight, there’s still no word on his whereabouts.”

Tick, tick, tock.

Chapter Five

Past…

Unlike most sports, Miss Shrieve scheduled our hurdle practices in the mornings. That way, we avoided the heat, and more likely, the boys.

The morning after being spotted at Mr. McKendrick’s house, I made my way across the field to where the other girls were starting to arrive. They all waved as I stopped and dropped my bag onto the ground. Pulling an elastic band from my pocket, I tipped my head back and tied up my hair as Jessica began talking.

“So, I thought you’d want to know, Sam text me last night. He said Brandon was super pissed that you didn’t show yesterday.”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I faced Jessica and shrugged. “So? He’s just pissed he didn’t get laid.”

“Addy!”

“What? It’s the truth. Don’t act like you’ve never done it, Jess.”

With an irritating giggle, she replied, “I’m not.”

“Ah-huh,” was my nonchalant response, not really caring either way what she had or hadn’t done. I was too busy thinking about the conversation with my history teacher from the afternoon before. This is very dangerous, Addison.

What was very dangerous?

I should have asked him, but I knew, just like he did, and that’s why he’d sent me away.

“Good morning, ladies!” Miss Shrieve’s voice called out as she jogged over to us. Her blond ponytail swished back and forth as she bounced along the grass.

“I hope you are all warmed up and ready to practice for the big meet tomorrow.”

As I bent down to touch my toes, the other girls around me chorused out, “Yes!”

“Good, good! I’m so excited for you all. Addy? How are you feeling this morning?”

I straightened instantly and aimed a guilty look her way. For a moment, I had the insane notion she was referring to something else entirely.

“Legs feeling strong?”

Releasing the breath I was holding, I gave her my brightest, fakest smile. It was the least I could do. Miss Shrieve, after all, was someone who had seen me at my worst, and now, wanted to fuck my history teacher. I could tell because I wanted to as well.

“Yes. I feel very strong,” was my reply, and I wasn’t lying. Remembering the way Mr. McKendrick had been hard inside his jeans, and his eyes—those intense eyes—both of those things made me feel strong, made me feel superior.

“Good! We need you strong to fight for what’s yours.”

She was referring to beating the overall best time in hurdles, but as I agreed with her and began to remove my track pants, all I could think about was fighting for Mr. McKendrick.

* * *

This morning I’d requested the first hour of my day free. I wanted to go down and visit my father.

He’d been transferred to a hospice facility a little over a month ago, and watching him become a mere shell of the man he once was had to be one of the cruelest fates I’d witnessed.

Heart disease from years ago is where it had all started, and the road up until this point had been rife with surgeries and setbacks. I’d been given a harsh lesson as a thirty-two-year-old, and that is—live for the moment because miracles don’t exist.

Then there was the man himself, always doing what he thought was right. He had lived with this diagnosis for so long without telling me to spare me from the pain. It wasn’t until these final months, when everything was failing, that he’d reached out.

Selfish of him or kind? I still hadn’t decided.

Getting out of my pickup, I slammed the door shut before making my way through the gated fence surrounding the track.

I was still extremely uncomfortable about what happened yesterday afternoon with Addison and what I’d done after. When she had left my house, I’d been unable to get the image of her sitting in her car pleasuring herself out of my fucking head.

The way her legs had been slightly splayed under the steering wheel and how her hips had moved, giving away exactly what she’d been doing without me even needing to see. As if that hadn’t been enough, the way her mouth—that full-lipped mouth—had opened and sighed as she must have touched the very right…fuck.