21. The Invitation
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE INVITATION
Malakai
I’m tidying up my office when there’s a knock at the door. Internally groaning, I walk over to the door and pull it open, not expecting to see Rod Dumplant’s suntanned face and too white teeth. It’s past six, and I assumed I was the last person here for the day.
“Rod,” I say, not immediately letting him into the office. “How can I help you?”
“No hot dates tonight, Ravage?” he asks, smirking as he gestures for me to let him in.
I don’t need hot dates because I just ate the best pussy of my life, but of course I can’t say that.
The memory of Sophie spread out before me on the pool deck threatens to give me another erection—and I almost gag at the thought of getting aroused in Rod’s presence.
“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” I tell him, gritting my jaw as he sits down in one of my chairs, unprompted. Sure, take a seat…
“Aw, that’s too bad. When I was your age—before I met Melanie, of course—I had dates every weekend. You’re young. You should be out on the town.”
My teeth ache from grinding them so hard. “Yes, well, my job keeps me busy. Did you have something to discuss, or is my dating life an agenda item at our next board meeting?” I ask, not bothering to mask my annoyance.
Rod huffs a laugh. “Apologies, Malakai. It just pains me that a good, Christian man like yourself isn’t married with kids yet.” I sit down behind my desk and rest one leg over the opposite ankle, leaning back and narrowing my eyes, waiting for him to continue. “Anyway, I’m just here to discuss Bradleigh Evans.”
No surprise there.
Leaning forward, I pin him with a hard stare. “No offense, Rod , but don’t you have better things to worry about?”
His smile falls off his face, and suddenly his expression is what I can only describe as ugly.
“I do, actually. Which is why I want to move forward with moving her to another school. This issue has already taken up enough of my time, and I want her gone.”
My nostrils flare, but otherwise I keep my composure. As much as I want to tell him to fuck off, that won’t help her or any of our other marginalized students.
Because he certainly won’t stop with Bradleigh.
I have to get my point across now, because as much as I hate it, he is on the board. Unfortunately, his opinion matters. If I lose my cool on him, it will only give him ammunition to pursue his campaign of hate against my other students.
If a society is too tolerant of intolerance, it will eventually be dominated by intolerance, which will therefore undermine the principle of tolerance itself.
“Bradleigh is staying at Saint Helena. I have a meeting with Victoria Evans next week. End of discussion.”
Rod starts to open his mouth to retort, but I cut him off, my tone sharp and unyielding.
“Let me make one thing abundantly clear, Rod. Saint Helena stands for inclusivity, dignity, and respect for all students. If you cannot uphold those values, you are welcome to step aside from your position on the board. I will not tolerate any actions, overt or covert, that seek to marginalize or harm any student under my care. Not Bradleigh. Not anyone. Not ever. Do I make myself clear?”
The silence between us is thick, but I hold his gaze until he nods curtly. The message has been delivered.
“You’ve made yourself more than clear, Ravage, and it’s given me a lot of insight into what you stand for,” Rod says, eyes narrowing just enough to suggest he knows more than he lets on. “Let’s hope the board appreciates your forward thinking as much as you think they do.”
Just then, my phone chimes. I glance down, brow furrowing when I see that it’s a text from Julian. Picking it up, I give Rod a hard look before opening the message.
Everything inside of me grows hot, and I nearly drop my phone when a picture of Sophie on the ground comes through. Rubbing my mouth, I take in the way Julian posed her to show off her spread legs—and his cum visibly dripping out of it. The caption makes me hard instantly.
Julian
I did taste you. Thanks for the appetizer.
Fuck.
My.
Life.
Locking my phone, I set it down and look back at Rod, who is watching me curiously.
“Everything okay?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Everything’s fine, Rod.” I gesture at the door. “If you don’t mind, I have some work to do before leaving for the day.”
Rod stands slowly, straightening his too big suit and giving me a pointed look. “This isn’t over, Ravage.”
I meet his gaze with an unwavering calm that I know will infuriate him more than any retort.
“You’re right, Rod. It isn’t over, because as long as I’m headmaster, there will always be someone here to stand between your hatred and my students. Good evening.”
He glares at me as he turns and walks out without another word.
As soon as my door closes, I release a long sigh and run my hands over my face. I’m exhausted, and all of this bullshit with Rod is messing with me. I know people like him exist everywhere, but it makes me angry that people like Bradleigh—and now myself—can’t just live our lives. Because if I know one thing, it’s that if Rod finds out about my situation with Julian and Sophie—whatever it is that we’re doing—he’ll paint it in a negative light, and technically, I could lose my job because of it.
That thought suddenly strikes me.
He’s on the board, and he’s only one member, but I was voted in. It would be very easy for a majority to vote me out. And while Chase owns the majority of shares for Saint Helena, he could be outnumbered if parents complain.
If our funding is threatened, it could get very messy, very quickly.
I have to make sure Rod never finds out about the Ashfords.
Speaking of Sophie and Julian…
Leaning back in my chair, I pick my phone up and slowly unlock it. I zoom in like a pervert, smirking when I see her displeased expression. My guess is this picture and subsequent caption were both Julian’s idea.
But is it a summons? Or simply another provocation?
I quickly respond to find out.
Is this an invitation, or just you showing off?
While I wait for him to respond, I continue cleaning up my office space. I find that if I spend my Friday evenings tidying my life up, I go into the weekend with a clearer mind. And if the last week has been any indication, I’ll need a clear head for whatever this is with Julian and Sophie.
My heart is still pounding from the picture, and I have to adjust my cock a few times as I go. I try not to ruminate on what it could mean that he texted me, about the possibilities behind it.
Is this really something they want? Are they both open to this… to me?
I glance at my phone, half expecting an immediate reply considering the subject matter, but it stays silent. That’s the worst part—waiting, wondering if I just overstepped, if I’m reading into this all wrong. Because at the end of the day, I’m here, and they’re together. Besides, maybe Julian is testing me. I wouldn’t put it past him to fuck with me, waiting to see if I’ll cross some imaginary line so he can shut this whole thing down.
What is it that he said? How does it feel to be used? Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?
Or… maybe he wants me to cross it.
For a second, I consider that this could truly work between us, and the notion has my blood heating all over again. The memory of Sophie on the edge of the pool is still vivid in my mind. The way she pushed back, her sounds, her touch, the way she responded when she finally gave in to me… it was everything I’ve ever wanted in a submissive, and everything I never knew I needed.
And Julian, his eyes on us last weekend, and the possibilities of what that could mean going forward…
My phone buzzes.
I snatch it up like a drowning man grabbing a life raft. Julian’s text is short, casual, like he didn’t just flip my world on its head.
Julian
Why don’t you come over and find out?
My breath catches. An invitation. At least, I think it is. But for what? Talking? More? I feel like a teenager again, trying to read between the lines of what he’s saying—and trying not to get my hopes up, either.
I type back before I lose my nerve, staring at the screen as my thumb hovers over the send button. My pulse pounds in my ears, and my whole body is alight with possibilities.
One fucking text from Julian, and the ground beneath me feels unsteady.
I wonder if he knows how little it takes to unravel me.
Be there in twenty.
The second the message sends, I’m already moving, grabbing my keys and shoes. I pause by the small mirror by the door, tugging at my tie and loosening it. Attempting to appear calm. Running a hand through my hair, I take a deep breath.
It’s useless.
Julian will see straight through me.
My chest is tight, and my hands are shaking, but for once, it’s not fear. It’s anticipation. Whatever this is, whatever they want, I’m walking straight into it.