15. Daphne
“So you’re going to make me ask?” Xana stares at me, a piece of lettuce dangling from her fork. “How was the Bahamas?”
I shrug nonchalantly. “It was fun, good. Lots of sun and sand. How was the lake?”
“Seriously? That’s all you’re going to give me?”
“I don’t know what else you expect me to say.”
“Oh, I dunno, maybe elaborate on what it was like to fly on a private jet, stay on a private yacht, and lunch at The Four Fucking Seasons?”
I laugh at how dramatic she’s being. “Well, yeah, that was unparalleled. Makes me sad that I can’t vacation like that all the time. Nothing like when we went to Panama City Beach in college with eight other girls and split a single hotel room and lived off ramen and liquor for four days.” I gag just thinking about it.
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Tell me about the lake.” I smile.
“It was good. Ryan’s parents were hilarious. His dad brought a ukulele and got tipsy and sang. Totally embarrassed Ryan but made me laugh. Now, will you please tell me if anything more happened between you two? I’m not going to let it go.”
I’m not trying to be coy. I really debated on if I even wanted to talk about it since I have no idea what it even is.
“Okay, fine, but don’t freak out.” She lets out a high-pitched squeak of excitement. “I mean it. We might have kissed again and did a little more.”
“A little more or a lot more?”
“A lot more.”
“Oh my God.” Her mouth falls open. “Tell me everything. How was it?”
“It was good, like goooood. Toe-curling, fireworks, I-finally-understand-what-the-big-deal-is good.” I feel a little awkward sharing this, for as close as we are, I’ve never been open about my sex life, maybe because it wasn’t as exciting as I wanted it to be in the past and I was ashamed. I felt guilty for wanting a more exciting sex life with Carson.
“Did you?”
“Yeah, so many times.” We both burst into laughter.
“So what’s this mean for you guys? Are you like a thing now?”
I shake my head, swallowing a bite of my pasta salad. “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe? But there’s no label or anything and I’m not going to ask him for one. I’m pretty sure it’s just a fling.”
“Yeah, but do you want be… flung?”
“Yeah, why not? You told me I needed to get back out there and have fun, not worry about a relationship and all that, so that’s what I’m doing.” I smile, shoving another bite of food into my mouth.
I want more with Weston, who wouldn’t? It felt good to be able to open up and talk to him about my past, but I am a little worried about how things turned so quickly with that conversation. He apologized that night and I accepted it, but we didn’t discuss it further. As much as he might not want to accept it or even agree, I do understand the pain of losing your other half and the fear that comes with moving on. Maybe he hasn’t moved on; maybe I haven’t either. Maybe we’re just losing ourselves in each other instead of facing that reality.
“Well, if that’s all it is and that’s all you want, then get it, girl, but if you want more and he can’t offer that, I’d say get out before the feelings get too deep. Otherwise, I hope he flings you to the fucking moon and back.”
* * *
“You look good bent over a desk.”
I whip my head around to look over my shoulder, Weston standing in my classroom looking drop-dead drool-worthy and sexy. He’s wearing my favorite combo on him, black pants with a black Oxford, two buttons undone, his sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms.
“What are you doing here?” I smile. “Your mom already picked up Daisy.” I’m finishing up my day after all my students have left, reaching across my desk for my purse.
“You know what would make it even better?” He approaches me, his hands sliding over my ass to grab my waist. “If your panties were around your ankles.” He presses himself against me.
“Not in my classroom, Mr. Vaughn.” I spin around and push against his chest unsuccessfully.
“Mmm, you know what that does to me when you call me that, Miss Flowers.” His hands reach up to tilt my head as his lips caress mine.
“People can see, you know,” I say against his lips, but it doesn’t stop him.
“Just shut the fuck up and let me kiss you.” He growls the words into my mouth, his tongue snaking inside to lay claim. I feel his length harden against me, pulling a small moan from my throat.
“If Mr. Fein sees, I would get fired,” I say, finally putting some space between us.
“You really think he’d fire you if it was me kissing you?” He flashes an arrogant grin. “Come on now, baby, you know that man would let you get away with anything if it involved me.”
“True or not, I don’t want to push the limits and find out.”
“Oh, by the way, don’t think I forgot about your payment for the Bahamas trip.”
“Payment? Feels a little awkward taking money after the things we did on that trip.” I blush and he steps toward me again.
“Mmm, or maybe it’s a new kink unlocked”—his hand comes up to cup my breast—“roleplaying that I get to pay you for services rendered.”
“Very funny.” I laugh, readjusting my blouse just as a woman’s voice interrupts us.
“Weston? I thought that was you.”
A look of almost panic flashes across his eyes before he slowly turns around to face her. “Hello, Natalie.”
Natalie?I step around him to take in the tall, willowy blonde with bright-blue eyes and a perfectly full cherry pout standing in the doorway of my classroom. Her overly perky breasts almost fall out of her top, her mile-long legs adorned with expensive-looking heels.
“Where’s Daisy?”
“My mother picked her up already. I was just speaking with her teacher, Miss Flowers.”
“Daphne, pleasure to meet you.” I smile, jutting my hand out toward her.
“Natalie Penner, pleasure,” she says in a throaty voice. “My ex already picked up the boys but as usual, he screwed up and forgot Mason’s backpack so I had to grab it after work.” She holds it up. “Speaking of work, darling”—she reaches out and grabs Weston’s arm—“I wanted to discuss some concerns that Nile has regarding the deal. Let’s grab dinner this week and discuss. I want to go into these negotiations with a clear outline of expectations for both of us.”
“Sure, call my admin and she’ll get you put on my calendar,” he says, stepping back out of her grasp.
“Your admin?” She looks almost offended, then quickly replaces her expression with another sultry smile. “Nonsense, darling. I’ll text you.” She gives him a flirty wave before spinning on her heel and walking out of my classroom.
“So that’s Natalie?” I give him a questioning look.
“What?” He grabs for my waist again. “What’s that look for?”
“Seems like you guys have some serious stuff to discuss.” I hold up my hands in front of my chest, making him laugh.
“Come to dinner with me tonight.”
“I can’t.” I rest my hands against his chest. “I have a happy hour with some of my coworkers.”
He looks down at me, pausing. “Will Preston be there?”
“Yes, probably.” He releases me, stepping back. “Is that a problem?”
“Where are you going? Will you be out late?”
“O’Malley’s over on Racine and I don’t know. I guess it depends if I’m having a good time or not. Everything okay?”
His eyes darken and he rubs his hand against the scruff on his jaw like he’s contemplating what to say. He steps closer to me. “Have fun tonight.” He plants a brief kiss on my lips and walks out.
“Hey.” Preston’s voice snaps me out of my fog. “You’re coming tonight, right?” He’s leaning halfway through the door.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.” I smile.
“Good.” He slaps the doorway, winking at me. “See you later.”
“See ya,” I call after him, turning my attention back to cleaning up my desk before heading home to change.
I pull my hair back into a high ponytail, slicking on some red gloss and adding a small black wing of eyeliner. My hips sway as I sing to Taylor Swift blaring over my phone speaker. Maybe it’s the way Weston Vaughn looks at me or maybe it’s knowing that a man like him wants me, but I’m feeling empowered tonight. I sort through my closet, finding a black fitted turtleneck dress with long sleeves. I pull it on, shimmying it over my hips before looking at myself in the mirror.
“Not too bad.” The dress is tight, hugging my curves and hitting me about mid-thigh. It’s definitely a lot different than my typical school dress. I’ve had it shoved in my closet for a while. I never had a reason to wear it because I never went out anywhere. Sometimes Xana and I have a glass of wine here or there, but I didn’t have coworkers who wanted to have happy hours and I was far too lost in my grief to join them even if they did.
I grab my thigh-high black suede boots to pull the outfit together. They’re flat so they bring an edgy, casual look to the outfit. I sling my purse over my arm and make my way to the train to head to the bar.
“You look like you got a tan.” Bridgette, the third-grade teacher, looks at my exposed thigh.
“Oh yeah, I went to the Bahamas recently.”
“Ugh.” She sips on her espresso martini. “I’m jealous. Last time I went on vacation was with my boyfriend and his parents to Lake Geneva in Wisconsin. Can you say boring?”
“Lake Geneva is beautiful though.” I smile, trying not to sound like I was bragging about the Bahamas.
“Did you say you were in the Bahamas?” Preston steps up behind me, standing between Bridgette and me, his hand resting on the back of my stool.
“Yeah, over Labor Day weekend.”
“Daaaamn, I was wondering why you didn’t show up to my beach party.” I give him a confused look. “Oh, I sent out an email.”
“Oh shoot, I must have missed it. I pretty much had my phone off the entire trip. Just wanted to disconnect, ya know?”
“Totally,” he says, looking over at Bridgette.
“Oh, um, I need to talk to Jeremy about something.” She grabs her martini and slips off her stool.
“So how are you liking teaching at Crestwood?” He takes a seat on the stool next to me, placing his beer on the bartop.
“I like it a lot. Not only are the teachers amazing, but the administration is so communicative and open to feedback. My favorite part is my students though.”
“Of course. I feel like my fourth graders are a riot; they always have me laughing.”
“I bet.” I take a sip of my vodka soda, nervously tapping the side of the glass as an awkward silence settles between us.
“Hey, so I’ve been wanting to ask you?—”
“Game time!” Sean, one of our physical education teachers, appears out of nowhere behind us, slapping Preston on the back loudly. “Playing put a finger down, bitches. Let’s go!” he shouts, cupping his hand to the side of his mouth.
“I guess we’re playing putting a finger down?” I turn my stool to face the others, a look of disappointment on Preston’s face, but I’m relieved because the way that conversation was going, I’m almost positive he was about to ask me out.
“Okay, I’ll go first,” Bridgette says in her mouselike voice. “Put a finger down if”—she giggles—“you’ve had sex in your parents’ bed.”
“Ewww!” someone says dramatically as several people put a finger down.
“Put a finger down if you’ve ever been arrested,” Sean says, putting his down immediately. “Hey, I was only sixteen and it was for skinny-dipping so it was just a misdemeanor,” he shouts.
“I am not surprised.” Nate, our music teacher, laughs.
We continue with the game and it’s getting closer to my turn. “I have no idea what to say.” I look over at Preston nervously. I still have all ten of my fingers up. Clearly, I haven’t taken many risks at all. My phone dings in my bag that’s on my lap and I pull it out. There’s a message from Weston.
Weston: Put a finger down if you’ve ever had your brains fucked out in the bathroom of a bar.
My head snaps up as I quickly flip my phone over so nobody can see the message. I glance around and that’s when I see him, leaning against the doorway of the hall that leads to the restrooms.
“I have to go to the restroom,” I say, sliding off my stool and quickly walking toward the back of the bar. I round the corner, almost running into Weston’s chest.
“What are you doing here?” He doesn’t respond; he just grabs my arm and pulls me into the women’s restroom, locking the door behind us.
“I think you know why I’m here.” He reaches for his belt, undoing it as he pushes against the center of my back. “Hold on to the sink.”
“What?” I look back at him over my shoulder as he unzips his pants.
“Fuck, you look good in this little dress.” He slides his hand up my leg, beneath the dress to grab a handful of my ass. He pulls it up over my ass, smacking me hard before pulling my panties to the side. “But you need to be reminded who you belong to.”
I grip the edge of the sink as he presses himself against me. “Ahh!” The intrusion is painful.
He pulls back and slides in further, pushing me up onto my toes. He wraps my ponytail around his hand, holding it tightly as he tugs me back so I’m looking at him in the mirror. “I want you sitting there next to him with my cum dripping out of you. Tell me, baby, tell me who you belong to.” He doesn’t stop his movements; they grow harder and faster.
“Y-you.” I barely get the word out. I grip the sink harder as he slams into my body over and over.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Every time you laugh or squirm tonight and you feel me running down your thighs, soaking your panties, I want you to remember that.”
His words push me over the edge. His hand clamps over my mouth as I cry out in ecstasy, completely forgetting we’re in a public place. When he finishes, he slowly pulls out, putting my panties and dress back into place before cleaning himself off.
“You have stunning eyes.” He looks at me in the mirror, his hands resting on my waist. “And a grade A pussy.”
I laugh, then wince, the feeling of warmth slowly seeping out of me. “Oh God.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just, um, leaking already.”
“Good, now go back out there and enjoy your evening.”
“I’m going to leave a wet spot on the stool.”
He gives me that smirk, the one that makes my knees weak. “Exactly. Marking my territory.” He spins me around, smacking my ass and sending me back out to rejoin my group.