Tenure

31. James

31

James

I meant to cool my jets. I meant to go home, have a shower, and try not to think about the images of her blowing my goddamn mind in that bathroom that had been burned into my retinas. But by the time I’d finished my shower, I’d already decided to make the drive. I was hard again before I’d even dried myself off.

The idea of taking her out on a date makes me a bit nervous, if only because I’m ignoring an awful lot of faculty rules and possibly a couple of laws. But the reality is that if she’s a senior in high school— fuck, am I really justifying this right now?— she can’t be more than a few months away from eighteen, and it’s not like the rest of the staff aren’t all fucking their students. Not high school ones, but . . .

I’d honestly assumed she’d tell someone about us , given the whole accidental deflowering situation. I know she’s a smart girl and assumed she’d use some discretion, so I didn’t feel like it was necessary to tell her to keep quiet about it. But the fact that she’d asked me what she should say to her friend had shocked the shit out of me. I don’t think she planned to tell anyone about us at all , and I find my affection for her growing as rapidly as my respect.

I’m here

Just need 5 more mins

I want to see you now

10 mins then

KIERNAN

5 mins xo

Hurry up

Stop fucking texting me then

I grimace at my phone. She’s such a shit.

She’s really nothing like the sort of women I normally sleep with. The only thing they have in common is that they’re all smart. But most of them have been close to my age, some older, often academics, and almost always a little bit pretentious. Gerald, my lawyer and sometimes-friend, told me I should have been born French. That I’d have loved sophisticated French women. Why this teenaged bitch with a trucker mouth has me on my knees, I have no fucking idea.

At seven minutes, I throw caution to the wind and get out of the car, walking up to the front porch. Just as I raise my hand to the doorbell the front door flies open and she barrels into my chest, not looking where she’s going.

I stumble backwards a step, gripping her shoulders to steady her, and can’t help but grin.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” says another voice, a skeptical looking blonde stepping out onto the porch with us, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

Kiernan glances nervously between me and her friend before reaching for my hand, but I pause for a moment, wanting to get this right. Kind of. It’s been a while since I’ve had to charm anyone. I can’t really remember the last time I met the friends or family of anyone I was seeing.

I hold out my hand to the blonde, and her eyebrows hit the roof.

“I’m James,” I say. “You must be . . . SJ?” I glance at Kiernan for confirmation. She nods once, looking a little dazed.

SJ takes my hand, and we shake as I slide my other arm around Kiernan’s waist and drop a kiss on the top of her head.

“You smell good, baby,” I murmur.

I drop SJ’s hand as her mouth drops open. Yeah. I’m not fucking around. “It was nice to meet you,” I say, steering Kiernan gently towards the car.

She seems to be in a daze the entire time, SJ staring after us as I open the door for her and wait for her to get in before closing it and getting in the driver’s side.

“Put your seatbelt on,” I gripe as she stares dumbly out the window at her friend.

“I’ve never seen SJ speechless before,” she says. “Just . . . give me a minute, please?”

“You can have a minute after you put on your fucking seatbelt on.”

“You’re so bossy. Jesus.”

“And you’re a fucking pain in the ass. So here we are. Put. On. Your. Seatbelt.”

She sighs and drags it across her chest, clicking it into place, and I almost sigh with relief, but then she sticks. her. tongue. out. at. me.

I take a sharp right, pulling into an empty parking lot beside a park. It’s getting dark, and we’re alone, and she has the wherewithal to look fucking nervous.

I undo my seatbelt and get out of the car, walking slowly around the outside, staring at her through the windshield as I do.

I open the passenger side door and nod my head.

“Get out. Now.”

She scrambles out of the car immediately. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice a little squeaky. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be standing on my porch. Or to talk to my friend. There’s no way she was expecting it either. I thought . . . I thought this would have to be a secret thing, and I wasn’t thinking and I’m really sorry—”

I put my finger to her lips, and she stops talking.

“Too late, Kiernan.” I grip the back of her neck and spin her around, shoving her down so she’s bent at a ninety-degree angle, her forearms on her seat. I run my hand up the outside of her thigh, grabbing a fistful of the soft material of her pretty dress.

“You look beautiful tonight,” I say softly, and then I shove her dress the rest of the way up, pull back my arm, and spank her.