His Taste Of Christmas (Forbidden Tastes #1)

4. Carter

Chapter four

Carter

E ven after I've walked away, her sweet lingering scent remains for at least five minutes. There's no denying that Angel O'Sullivan has matured over the past two years. Teachers claim they don’t have favourite students, but that’s bullshit. Angel was always mine. In the early years of her schooling, she was much more talkative with me. Her refreshing honesty and unique perspective on life intrigued me. I used to look forward to her creative writing tests. Her stories were captivating, even to me. I would get lost in them, and that was coming from a thirteen-year-old girl. She would create these worlds that would take you on a ride. Without fail, she was my star student every single year.

There was a significant transformation in her when she entered her last year of school. Boys tend to remain immature, but girls seem to become entirely different individuals by Year Eleven. It was a different kind of experience for Angel. Of course it was, because there's no one quite like Angel.

Rather than focusing on make-up and boys, she became silent. I'm not sure what caused it, but she started speaking less. To me, at least.

Every time I got close to her, she became restless or timid. It wasn’t like her at all. I expressed my concerns to her Head of Year, and she told me, “She has a crush on you.” Initially, I brushed it off, but gradually, I started noticing her strange behaviour. Whenever I glanced at her, she would abruptly turn her head as if she’d been looking at me. Her cheeks turned pink whenever we spoke, and she avoided me as much as she could.

Suddenly, Angel appeared in a different light. My eyes couldn’t stray from the curves that seemed to emerge overnight. Her long, slender legs were more prominent thanks to the shorter skirt she wore—an unintentional torture. Every glance my way felt electric, her mere presence igniting a storm of conflicting emotions within me. My mouth would go like a desert as she would flip her hair to one side, revealing her delicate, slender neck. She had this thing where she would run her pen up and down the side of her neck whenever she was deep in concentration, and I hated how much I wished it were my lips instead. By now, I realised I had an attraction to Angel, and I was relieved to have only six months left before she finished her exams and left school, so I started distancing myself from her.

She was sixteen, for fuck’s sake.

I was thirty-eight.

Was it legal? Yes, only just, but in every way, it was sickening; I was her teacher; she was twenty-two years younger than me.

She was my student, for crying out loud.

There were so many things wrong. Professionally, the girl always intrigued me, but my interest became all-consuming. My dreams were plagued by her night after night. I hated myself when I would wake up and be hard as a rock, and the only way to relieve myself was to fist myself to images of her. I hated the way my dick would strain my work pants when I would get just a whiff of her perfume when she walked by my desk. The way my eyes would gravitate to her lips every time she spoke, wishing I could feel how smooth they were against mine.

Her departure from school brought a sense of relief, as if I could finally breathe. Yet that feeling of relief quickly morphed into a longing. Longing to see her again, longing to speak with her. I missed her. I missed the stolen glances, her garnet-green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. I missed her so much that I was soon drowning in want and need.

I knew I couldn’t have her, so I watched her from afar for the last two years, and it helped. Something in me eased by the sight of her. Even if the only way was through her social media posts. Then she was tagged in a picture with a boy. This was the first time I had seen Angel with a boy, and I didn’t like it one bit. My obsession grew into something intense at that point. I have never felt anger and jealousy as much as I did when I saw his arm hanging over her shoulder and both of them smiling broadly at the camera. I told myself it was to be expected, but all of a sudden looking at pictures of her on socials wasn’t enough to satisfy my cravings for her. It felt like a switch flipped inside me when I saw her with a boy.

I wanted more.

I needed more.

So, I set things in motion—strategies for getting closer to her. I had a strong desire to see her in the flesh, but this newfound feeling was completely consuming, and I had an overwhelming hunger to touch and be with her all the time.

I saw on her socials that Macey had tagged her in a post saying how excited she was to go Christmas decoration shopping at Costco today. I knew this would be my moment. My thirst for her outweighed everything else. I needed to see her up close. Of course I had no idea what time they would be going there, so I parked on the street of their pub where, due to my social media stalking, I already knew she lived and I waited. I only caught a glimpse of her getting into a taxi, but even that tiny glimpse, and the knowledge that I would see her up close today, had me driving to Costco with a stomach full of butterflies.

Seeing and speaking to her just now has made me feel erratic, like I want to go and claim her in front of everyone in this store and tell them she’s mine and always has been. Fuck what is wrong with me? I press my thumbs into my eyes to close them, but she is still all I see.

Her scent reached me before I could even face her. The scent of her school perfume has stayed the same; a scent I’ve only ever smelt on her. The sight of her made me lose my breath. My lungs burned as I stared at her. The fact she bumped into me feels like a sign this was the right move following her here today, a sign to say this was meant to be. I had to regain myself quickly before Macey noticed. Fortunately, Angel appeared equally stunned and simply stared at me without saying a word, her eyes drinking in my presence as if encountering me for the first time. In all honesty, seeing Angel today feels like the first time. Her pictures online don’t do her justice. Her hips have filled out, which was clear in the tight leggings she was wearing. I noticed more than one man eye her from behind, which made me want to grab her and hide her from the world. Her large eyes followed my every move, overshadowed by lengthy black lashes that intensified their glistening green hue. Her wavy dark brown hair cascaded down her front, drawing attention to her perky tits that I instantly desired, imagining what they would look like in the flesh. My mind is consumed by the image of how fucking beautiful she would look bent over a desk with her hair tangled around my fist, as I thrust into her, hearing her bliss-filled cries. Fuck . My dick stirs at the thought. I knew if I got too close, this is what would happen. I zone back into what I’m meant to be doing and realise I have passed everything I need.

I knew my mum would be needing some more snacks for Christmas Day, so I told her I would get it while here today. Just like always, she asked the whole family to come over for Christmas. Eighteen of us. I love Christmas, but I have a big family, so you have no choice. When I was a kid, my house resembled Santa's Grotto.

I’m at the checkout, queuing, and I can see Angel at another till with Macey. I can’t take my eyes off her sexy as fuck figure. Where did that peachy arse come from? I have never seen her look so sexy before. I'm relieved that she hasn't noticed me, so I can keep watching her. I’ve convinced myself that I will go back to watching her from afar, but I know I won't be able to. My thirst for her is the strongest it’s ever been and smelling her again has made it impossible to stay away. It’s like her smell is imprinted on me now.

Two years ago, I was meant to forget about Angel O’Sullivan; she was my sixteen-year-old student.

Now?

She is an eighteen-year-old woman I have a serious obsession with that just keeps growing.

My eyes don’t stray from her as she eye-rolls Macey for something I can’t hear, while swirling a candy cane in her mouth, which makes me ponder what other things she could be doing with those plump lips.

I inwardly sigh with annoyance. How am I going to get her out of my head? As if she knows I’m watching, taunting and teasingly, she moves the candy cane in and out of her mouth. My sick and twisted mind imagines replacing it with my dick as she sucks me down, wondering how deeply she could take me.

My jeans become uncomfortably tight as my now hard cock presses against them. I shut my eyes and clench my teeth with more force than ever before. She's like a living fantasy come true. Fuck my life. I strain to open my eyes and when I do, everything freezes around me. Angel's gaze locks with mine as she lazily moves the candy cane in and out of her mouth, then she pulls it free, her mouth forming a small O.

“Sir?” I'm snapped out of my Angel-trance by a gentle voice. With a slight frown, a woman motions towards the now empty checkout. The cashier looks displeased, likely wondering why I'm causing a holdup. I quickly load my items onto the conveyor belt, wondering if anyone clocked who I was staring at. I really want to see her face again, but I have to go. I glance behind me as the cashier scans my items much faster than usual, likely annoyed, but Angel is not there, and the overwhelming disappointment serves as confirmation.

I need to breathe her in, to feel her presence consume me. The thought of her scent, her touch. It's driving me mad. I can't escape it. I can't escape her.

I need to smell her again.

I need to see her again.