Her Teacher's Temptation Read online

  “I was upfront about that. I offered and you said yes, there was no lying involved in that,” he argued back, fingers drumming against the desk as he stared me down. I was glad he stayed sat; if he’d been towering above me, I might have actually felt a bit uneasy.

  “How old are you?” I asked instead, really not wanting this to be even worse than awkward. If he actually hated me then it would be unbearable.

  “Are you not listening to what I’m saying at all? You lied to me and now there’s a chance I could lose my job because of it. Your friend knew, didn’t she?”

  I wrung my hands together. “She did, but she wouldn’t ever say anything, I promise. And I wouldn’t, either.”

  “That doesn’t really settle my mind on the matter, to be honest. This is my first proper teaching job out of university. I need this, okay? I refuse to lose it because of some stupid mistake like this.”

  “Look,” I was beginning to get angry myself, even if there was some tension in the air that I was sure wasn’t just bitterness. Or maybe that was my imagination because seeing Ollie riled up did things to me that I really needed to control. He was my teacher now, not the guy in the club I’d have fucked again in an instant if I’d had the chance. “I’m not going to say anything. There’s no reason anyone ever has to know about this. Just put it behind you, or something.”

  His concerns were valid and I was being harsh because I was equally pissed off about the situation. It wasn’t even that I’d spent the rest of the summer wishing I could see him again, it was that now I knew I could never have him I desperately wanted to run my hands through that thick hair one more time.

  “Please just get out. You’re just my student now, okay? I don’t want to see you after class and I don’t want you to call me Ollie or anything along those lines. I’m just Mr. Wright.”

  I really, desperately wanted to argue, but I nodded instead. Grip tightened on my rucksack, I left the classroom.

  “Sure thing, Sir.”

  Chapter Two

  Work was as busy as ever. My restaurant was relatively high class and so the people dining had enough money to eat out every day if they chose to, and most of them did. They required fast and precise service that didn’t leave a lot of time for daydreaming.

  Today I’d managed both quite effectively.

  Meg had bugged me to tell her the entire conversation word for word when I’d left the classroom, then rolled her eyes and told me he was a dick and I should get over him. I could only laugh. He’d had a completely valid reaction, even if it had shot down my mood a bit.

  There had been no hiding from Meg the fact I was still insanely attracted to him and no stopping her teasing, either.

  “Table Seven,” I’d been too busy considering how my lesson would go tomorrow that I hadn’t seen who’d taken their seat there. I’d made a mental note of who tipped well over the past few months.

  Grabbing two menus from the basket at the side of me and my notepad and pen, I weaved my way through the packed tables to the corner that they'd reserved. “Hi, welcome to Napoleon's. I'm Maddie and I'll be your waitress for tonight,” I almost stumbled over my words when I recognised the ice blue eyes staring into mine. “Oh, hey Mr. Wright.” He was sat with someone who was a notoriously big tipper.

  I definitely couldn’t ever compete with her.

  His exasperation at seeing me here was evident, surely even to his date. “Hi,” was all he managed to respond.

  “Just let me know when you're ready to order,” I told him, glancing once more at the black haired beauty across from me. I knew it was bad when I’d noticed how stunning she was before having seen her with Ollie. It wasn’t just jealousy talking.

  “Will do,” his voice was clipped and I returned to the front of the restaurant to welcome guests. This was all painfully awkward.

  And I was bitter because my entire shift I’d been thinking back to the last night we’d shared together and wondering what it would feel like to be bent over my school desk.

  Scowling, and half decided that sleeping with random men wasn't something I'd be indulging in again, I turned my attention to the booking sheet in front of me. I’d served her plenty of times before, but it was the first time I’d checked to see the same she’d given. O’Brien. I wondered if she had a prettier first name.

  It was easy to forget about Mr. Wright and his date as all the tables in the restaurant filled up. I was so busy taking orders, bringing out food and collecting dishes that I didn't have time to even glance over at their table, unless it was to check whether they'd finished eating or not.

  When they had, I weaved effortlessly through the room to their private corner. “Are you finished eating? I hope everything was good for you tonight.” It was my professional script and I knew it off by heart. Not looking particularly closely at either person and choosing to stare at the obviously empty dishes seemed the most appropriate.

  “Yes, thanks. I'm just nipping to the ladies,” she excused herself, slipping out of the booth and towards the toilets.

  “How long have you worked here?” Mr. Wright inquired as I piled the dishes onto my arm expertly. I hadn’t expected him to speak.

  “A year,” I replied, reaching across him to collect his empty glass and becoming suddenly aware of how close we were – my chest was practically in his face. I pulled back as though my primal urges weren't kicking in and smiled innocently at him. If that didn’t shut him up, nothing would.

  “Ah,” and his sulky silence was back. Only, after drumming his hands on the table for a few minutes and staring out the window, he asked, “how come?”

  “My mum quit work when she had my sister, so it's easier for both of us if I have my own income. I only work three days. And I'm very punctual with my essays, honest.” I couldn’t stop the teasing tone to my voice. It was just natural around someone as attractive as him. “Do you want the dessert menu?”

  He nodded. “Yes, thanks.”

  I didn't bother to comment again before whisking away the empty plates which were balanced precariously on my arms. Retrieving the dessert menus and returning to the table, I was annoyed to see Mr. Wright's date leaning over the table and giving him a soft peck on the lips. That ruled out first date, anyway.

  I decided to just peg the woman as his girlfriend for all intents and purposes, no matter how much the thought irritated me. My scowl deepened as I realised how much it irritated me that it irritated me.

  Barely managing a neutral expression as I gave them their menus, I prayed that Mr. Wright didn't notice any change in my demeanour. I didn't want him making any pathetic conclusions about me. I'd just had a strange day and that was all and the fact he was angry with me didn’t help. It was all just a big mess.

  Returning to the front of the restaurant in less than high spirits, I kept my eyes everywhere apart from Mr. Wright's booth. I wasn't allowed to stand and think for long, because a rough hand had dragged me back a few feet into the alcove near the toilets.

  For a moment I really panicked, opening my mouth to scream and attempting to get the foreign hands off me. A chubby hand was slapped across my mouth and I was forced to meet irritatingly similar brown eyes. “Dad?” Trying to wrench my hand free from his unfriendly grip was futile. “When did you get back?”

  “Your mother had another child?” He argued with my mum almost all of the time they were together – not that it was very often considering he lived in Dubai – but this was something else entirely. He was practically shaking with rage, towering over me with his stocky build. I was always loathed to recognise my features in his face. “When? With who?”

  “A year ago,” I answered, grimacing at the realisation I'd have small bruises on my forearm tomorrow. “And I don't know with who,” I admitted honestly. “She didn't tell anyone. Not even me.”

  “I don't believe you.” If we’d been somewhere private, he’d have been screaming at the top of his lungs, but he had the sense to keep his voice in a menacing whisper. “Of course sh
e’s told you.”

  “I don't know, okay?” I replied, angry that he had the nerve to show up here demanding such stupid things. It was two years since I'd last seen him and this wasn't exactly the reunion I'd been expecting. My father worked abroad and never made an effort to come and see me. He'd made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with my mother and I. I'd seen him six times my entire life. The fact he was asking me this question was ridiculous. “Why do you even care?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and I realised my mistake when his fingers tightened around my arm.

  I'd never known my father was a violent man, but there was no reason I should. I never missed my dad, I didn’t know him well enough for that, but this was the first time I’d ever wished he would just piss off again. “That whore.”

  “Maddie?” Ollie’s voice cut through the tense scene and my stomach clenched. I willed my father not to do something stupid. “You all right?” When I dared to look at him, he was glaring at the offending hand my dad had wrapped around my wrist.

  “Erm, yeah, it's fine, this is my dad,” I explained reluctantly. Our relationship probably spoke for itself considering our position.

  My dad eyed Ollie up and down before spitting out “and who’s this?”

  “My teacher,” I grimaced at the word and watched Mr. Wright's face hopelessly. He was looking more and more like he wanted to rip my father's arm off me. “Look, I don't know the answer to your stupid question, okay? Go and ask her yourself. I don't know.”

  “Well then find out,” he ordered me, ignoring Ollie's presence completely. “I'm not leaving until I know.”

  I scowled. “Oh, please. Of course you are. You'll probably be back on a plane as soon as your tantrum is over.”

  I was empowered by Mr. Wright's presence and tried to remove my arm, though my dad only gripped it tighter. “Don't you dare speak to me like that you-”

  “Just get off her,” Mr. Wright interrupted, his voice stern and suddenly a few notes deeper than I remembered. It was already gorgeous considering his posh Southern accent. I remembered lying in bed, naked, whilst he stroked my stomach and listening to that gorgeous voice with great fondness. “And go home. Have some self-respect.”

  My dad's grip only tightened further before he met my eyes with a stormy expression and released me completely, leaving the building without turning back around.

  I’d no doubt see him again sometime soon.

  “You okay?” Mr. Wright was frowning so hard his forehead gained several wrinkles.

  I offered him a weak smile, touching my wrist gingerly and hoping the bruise wouldn't be too obvious tomorrow. “Yeah, thanks for that, though. He'll probably be over it tomorrow, I'm not even sure why he's so annoyed. He's the one who left her,” I was muttering by the end and I knew that Mr. Wright was watching me carefully as I surveyed what bit of the restaurant I could from around the corner. “Sorry, did you actually need the toilet? I need to go and do my job anyway.” I realised that I was probably holding him up and he was still mad at me. There was no point in drawing out the conversation.

  He was only my teacher, after all.

  “No, I saw him drag you round here and when you didn't come back, I thought I'd see what was wrong. Is he always like that?” The concern in his voice touched me ever so slightly and I found myself giving him a small smile.

  “No, but I haven't seen him for two years,” I admitted. “I've only seen him a handful of times ever. But no, I've never seen him like that. He wants to know who the father of my sister is, for some reason,” I explained, waving off the idea. “Don't ask me why. It makes no sense. He's probably just insane.”

  “Oh, well, hopefully he'll do what you said and be gone tomorrow.” His frown deepened. “Stay away from him,” he muttered, though of course it was a completely unrealistic request. If my dad wanted to see me, there was nothing stopping him. “He seems like a dick.”

  I found myself letting out a chuckle. “Yeah, you got that right. But I really have to go and work.” I apologised. “My boss is probably looking for me right now. Thanks again. I didn't want to have to put up with that any longer.”

  He grabbed my arm before I could completely abandon the conversation. “I’m sorry for being a dick earlier, it was a bit of a shock,” and a valid response, was added unsaid. “But I hope it won’t be too weird. I’m sure it’ll be normal soon enough.”

  “Yeah, I hope so,” I lied.

  Chapter Three

  My mum watched me with fidgeting hands as I finally slumped through the door, my legs aching from the amount of time I'd spent on my feet this evening.

  “He came and saw you at work, didn't he?” She asked apologetically, cradling my sleeping sister to her chest in a soothing rhythm. “I tried to warn him not to, I don't even know how he found out you worked there.”

  “He'll have asked Grandma.” The only reason my father ever came back to England was to see his mother. Surprisingly, my mother and I also retained a good relationship with her. It was expected that everything we told her, she'd tell my dad. We were the only real change in her life at the nursing home she resided in on the outskirts of the city.

  “I suppose. He didn't do anything, did he?” She gave me a once over. “He seemed incredibly angry when he called here earlier.”

  I frowned, also giving my mum a quick inspection. I doubted he would have done anything, but I honestly barely knew the man. It wouldn't have been too surprising. “No, he was just demanding to know who the father was.”

  My mum let out a ragged sigh. “Of course he did. I don't know what his problem is. He left me to take that stupid job in Dubai, I've waited this long wanting another child, what did he expect me to do? It's not like I'm in a relationship. It's not like he should even care.”

  Grimacing in acknowledgement, I moved towards the kitchen to start the kettle boiling for my dinner knowing she'd follow me. “I don't know. You know more about him than I do. But he won't stay long, anyway. He has work to do and I doubt he actually cares. He's probably just momentarily offended, or something,” I tried to wave off his erratic behaviour.

  “Hopefully. Him taking that job was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She didn't normally open up about her relationship with my dad, so I listened intently. “I don't need him sticking his nose in again. It's not like he'd even know the father if I told him.”

  I chuckled. “I know.” I dug through the cupboards, only to frown when I realised I was out of super noodles. “I thought I had one packet left. I'm not hungry enough for a proper dinner.”

  “I haven't walked the dog yet, so if you're going to the shops then you could always take him.” She hinted without an ounce of subtlety.

  I groaned. “I so can't be bothered,” I glared at my border collie, who had sprung into action at the mention of a walk. My irritation never lasted long – it was impossible to resist his sad face when he thought there was even a hint of anger in me. “Okay. I won't be long.”

  Not bothering to change out of the formal garb I wore for waitressing, I slipped my shoes back on and grabbed the dog's collar from behind the utility room door. “Come on, let's go,” I muttered, bracing myself against the biting wind and heading towards the local shop. I lived just down the road from the only convenience store in the neighbourhood, which was always a bonus.

  As I was walking down the short path of my front garden, though, I saw an unexpected figure passing the front of my house. I debated whether or not to call out to him, but from the pace he was walking, I guessed I was going to catch up anyway.

  I decided that I'd let the dog get his attention and allowed him to sniff Ollie's hand, smirking when he jumped a bit at the contact. “Hey. What are you doing around here?” I wondered if I was being nosy, but there wasn't really anything else to make conversation about. “As far as I remember, your flat's not exactly close by.”

  He chuckled. “Jemma's house is a few streets away, I'm going to fetch us some wine.” That must have
been the gorgeous woman from dinner. They were definitely in a relationship. I was surprised I hadn’t seen him around here before, hopefully that meant they hadn’t been together long.

  “Drinking on a school night?” I teased, the corner of my lips pulling upwards slightly at him. I had to make an effort not to make this more awkward than it already was.

  “I don't have any lessons to teach tomorrow morning,” he replied immediately, smug tone to his voice. He probably somehow knew I was in first thing.

  “Oh the woes of being underage.” I complained, knowing we were heading for the same place.

  “I'm sure your fake ID solves most of those problems.” He commented, not quite as accusing now.

  “It does,” I admitted. “But not when I'm at home. My mum has no idea.” There was the off chance Mr. Wright would get the urge to make an offhand comment to my mum at parents’ evening or something. I definitely didn’t need that happening.