Chapter 19
JOHN
Idecided to pick up a few summer classes. Anything to take my mind off the mess I put myself in or the coward I’ve become. I’m keeping my head down, sticking to my rules, and honoring the commitments I made before this bewitching woman entered my life.
Before Emma, following the rules was easy. Sure, I’d bend them from time to time, but it was always for the greater good. Like breaking the speed limit to rush someone to the hospital.
But the longer she’s in my life, however, the more I find myself breaking my rules, taking bigger risks that could not only ruin my life, but the lives of others as well.
If word got out that I was involved with a student, I could lose my job.
And Mary depends on me, and not just for her housing situation.
Her friendship is important to me, and her safety is paramount.
In so many ways, Emma reminds me of Mary. They’ve both overcome abuse at the hands of a man they should have been safe with. They both came to me for help, but under much different circumstances. And they both love fiercely and want to help others. I think if they met, they’d be friends.
Walking away from Emma was necessary, but it feels like the worst mistake I’ve ever made.
I can’t come clean with her, not now, and she deserves my honesty.
She deserves someone who can take her out, treat her right—in public and in private.
And that’s not me, not right now—maybe one day, but I can’t ask her to wait.
Hell, I can’t even walk into my private room at the club without thinking about her, and she’d only been there a handful of times.
But fuck if Emma wasn’t the perfect natural submissive for me.
My good little pet. Even though I’m now only seeing couples for coaching sessions at the club, I keep expecting her to walk in my door, yet she never does.
I’m keeping myself busy so I don’t have time to think about her, but there aren’t enough clients I could take on at Pulse, not enough classes I could teach to erase her from my mind completely.
I pull up the classroom portal to double-check my roster for any last-minute additions.
Relief washes over me when I don’t see Emma’s name.
Not that I was really expecting to. I was successful in my mission to drive her away from my professor persona, determined to make her hate me so she didn’t figure out who I really was.
But we only saw each other in person a handful of times last year, most of which were in a dark club, and when we spoke, I either wore my mask with the built-in modulator, or I masked my voice.
I even carry myself differently on campus, playing the role of the buttoned-up, scholarly English professor.
I’m aware that I’m known for having difficult classes, of being tough yet fair. But nothing worth doing in life is easy, so I push my students to be the best version of themselves they can be. Just like I push my subs to know their limits.
Not everyone loves being challenged, so my reputation of being a hard-ass is earned, but despite my demeanor, my student evaluations have always been favorable.
I’m not sure what her summer plans are. It’s killing me that I can’t check in on her, but I decided to end this, and I made a rule that I’m not going to ask Alyx about her. I’m determined not to break that one like I have so many of the others.
This is going to be a long summer.
——————
Emma
This summer is about trying new things, and I’m determined to move on from the events of last school year.
When I walk into the cozy bookshop, I’m in awe of the atmosphere and selection.
There’s not a single bit of wall that isn’t covered in shelving filled with thousands of brightly colored spines and covers, and little tables dot the open space with books propped on stands and little signs denoting the tropes and blurbs. It’s a book lover’s dream.
Becka’s been begging me to come to book club all summer, and I finally had time between summer classes to make an appearance. The shop is so cute, and I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.
“Emma!” Becka squeals as she waves her hand wildly, motioning me over. When I reach her, she pulls me into a hug. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Me too. Luckily my course load is light this summer, and I’ve already read this book, so it worked out,” I say, offering her a small smile.
“Oh, you don’t really have to read the book. I mean, we do actually talk about the books, but no one’s gonna care if you haven’t read or finished it.”
I nod as she’s speaking when a book behind her catches my eye. “Is that a shirtless hockey player?” I ask in astonishment.
She looks over her shoulder and laughs. “Sleet Kitten, that’s a good one.”
“You’ve read it?”
“I have. This is actually a whole wall of hockey romances,” she says, waving her arms up and down like she’s a model on a game show.
I laugh incredulously. “Wait, this is a thing?”
“It’s one of the largest subgenres of romance, certainly the largest of the sports romances. It’s Amanda’s favorite, hockey romance. She’s the store owner, have you met her?”
I shake my head as Becka continues talking excitedly.
“She’s great, you’ll love her. And I love how she’s organized the store. This section here has all the sports romances, but this whole shelf is all hockey, and she has them organized from light at the top down to dark at the bottom.”
“Wait, there’s dark romance all about hockey?”
“Girl, those are some of my favorites. S. Massery writes some great dark stalker-y hockey romances. You want to start with Brutal Obsession,” she says, pointing to a book with a hot guy on the cover.
“You’ll also want to look at SJ Sylvis and CR Jane.
Oh, and Rina Kent is writing a series now too.
We actually read a hockey romance as a group at our last meeting, the Agitators series. ”
“I had no idea this was a thing,” I say, running my fingers along the spines as she talks. “Are there other dark books you would recommend? Like maybe some that involve BDSM?” I ask, nervously.
“I love BDSM romance. There’s this series that I love by Dakota Willink. The first book is called Heart of Stone, and it’s billionaire, sex club, with BDSM. And the FMC is a virgin.”
“That sounds…” Oddly familiar. I’m unsure how to finish my thought worried that Becka will realize how on the nose that recommendation is, but luckily, she keeps going, mentioning more books as she flits between shelves motioning for me to follow her.
“What else do you like to read? I’m sure I could recommend dozens of books in that subgenre,” she says with an eager smile.
“Is it weird that we’re talking about this? I mean, I work for you.” I shift on my feet as I look around the store noticing a woman moving chairs into a circle.
“Emma, you watch my daughter so I can fuck my husband. This is totally fine.” She flicks her wrist in a circle, and I laugh, recalling our first conversation when she shared way too much with me about the sexual rut she and her husband were in and how they needed time away to reconnect.
“Reading romance helped save my marriage. It opened us up to new kinks, new positions, new ways to roleplay. I will never shy away from singing its praises. But if it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to talk about it. ”
“It’s not that,” I say nervously. “I’m just not as experienced in all this.”
“Reading romance?” I shake my head vigorously. “Oh. Oh! Gotcha. Are we talking the virgin trope?”
I look at her, puzzled.
She smiles, placing a hand on my arm. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Your secret’s safe with me. And I can totally give you some recs for that trope if you’re interested.”
“That would be… great. I really hope this doesn’t make things weird between us.”
“Girl, everyone has sex. Oof. Insert foot in mouth. Maybe not everyone, but you know what I mean. It’s a normal part of life if you choose to do it.
I’m definitely not judging you for your choices, and if you ever need someone to talk to about this stuff, I’ve always wanted a little sister.
I’m the youngest, and let’s just say my older sister isn’t the best.”
“Thanks.”
She gestures to the circle of chairs, and we grab our spots as others fill in. “So how are summer classes going?”
“Good. Luckily all my professors are laid-back. Nothing like that A-hole I dealt with last year.”
“Ooh, tell me more about that. I feel like you’re just giving me breadcrumbs,” she says with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
“Like Hansel and Gretel?” I laugh at her turn of phrase.
“Exactly! I had to explain it to Bridget a couple times before she picked up what I was putting down. That one does not like puzzles.”
“I could see that. She seems very straightforward.”
“Oh, she is. But before she met your brother, she used to regale me with tales of all her hookups. We’d meet for coffee and she’d fill me in on all her wild nights.”
“If any of them involve my brother, you can skip ahead.”
She lets out a full-body laugh. “No worries, not going to share about that. Anyway, she’d give me highlights without filling in all the details.
‘He was tall, average dick, and had two moves, three out of ten,’” she says doing a spot-on impression of my brother’s girlfriend.
“I was like, ‘girl, I am an old married woman who isn’t getting enough action and is living vicariously through you, Imma need more than that!’”
“Seems on brand for her. Straight to the point.”
“Straight to the dick!” Becka throws her head back in laughter, and I can’t help but join her. “So tell me all about the A-hole. Wait, that sounds dirtier than I meant it.”
“Ugh, I’m so glad I’m done with his classes.
He’s just so frustrating. Always pushing me.
Calling on me more than anyone else in class and asking me really difficult questions, so I either look like a total know-it-all or an idiot if I don’t know the answer.
And one time someone teased me for getting his obscure question right, and he got all alpha and threw the guy out of class. ”
Becka raises an eyebrow.
I shake my head. “Nope. I know what that face is, and I can tell you with certainty that he did not like me. He was hot and cold and wildly inconsistent. One minute he was picking apart my papers with ridiculous precision, and the following semester he pushed me so hard emotionally in a scene that I nearly had a panic attack in class, recovering a traumatic memory I’d buried from my childhood.
And shortly after that, the guy I’d been seeing broke up with me and I cried to Bridget about it and she introduced us and here we are. ”
“That rabbit trail was incredible. I was totally with you for the whole ride.”
I laugh at the way she views my verbal diarrhea. There’s something about her that feels safe yet wild, like a fun aunt who sneaks you drinks but then holds your hair back when you get sick later.
“What did this hot-and-cold professor look like? I bet he wasn’t bad on the eyes.” She wiggles her eyebrows up and down rapidly.
I let out a deep breath, deciding that if I’m going to share all this with anyone, Becka feels like the best person to do so with.
“Ugh, he’s probably the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.
Tall, at least six feet. Dark brown hair, and facial hair he can’t decide if he wants to grow into a full beard or shave every day, so it looks like a permanent scruff I want to run my fingers through.
His shoulders are broad, but the way his waist tapers, you just know he has those V lines.
He’s always in these perfect tailored suits that hug his behind.
And the way he carries himself? He’s older, and I imagine he knows exactly what he’s doing in the bedroom which is really appealing because I have no experience there. ”
“Ooh, I love a tall, dark, and scruffy man so much I married one.” She has a dreamy look on her face.
“Yeah, but then he opens his stupidly attractive mouth and ruins everything. That’s why I call him Professor A-hole.”
Becka laughs. “To his face?”
“Oh, biscuits, no!”
Amanda calls the book club to order, and we spend the next hour talking about a small-town baseball romance and baseball pants. The group is fun and feral, and I love their energy. It’s a welcome distraction from the heartache I feel about Daddy Dom.