3. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Reed
A life in the darkness wasn’t one that I chose but rather something I was forced into. Whether it is my choice or not, it doesn’t matter anymore because, in the darkness, I found purpose. I found the truth. I found myself. The people I hunted never touched me here. Never this town. My hometown. My safe place. Until I regained and lost the most important person to me. Now, I’m on the hunt for the people who thought they could take what wasn’t theirs and touch someone who didn’t belong to them but belonged to me.
My plan was formed.
With one single phone call.
One single sentence.
They attend Sunny Creek University.
Now, in the light of day, I’m a professor at the university, but at night, I’m the hunter stalking the shadows, ready to rip their souls from their bodies. That is a promise. A vow. One I made to an empty casket, and I plan on keeping. No matter what. This should have been an open and closed vendetta, but the ring of people was much larger than anticipated. I’m almost at the head of the beast. I’m so close I can practically smell his fear. His weakness. His blood. I’m so focused on this need to avenge Tara that I can’t lose sight of it now.
But that’s all about to change because of her. It’s the first day of the fall semester. Everything has gone according to plan. I spent the whole summer putting my plan into action. Making friends with the right teachers and becoming a ‘friend’ to the students. The girls fall all over themselves to get my attention, and the guys hate that they want to be me. I don’t care, not in the slightest. I just need them to keep talking around me. Gossiping, especially the girls, because they are the ones who have the information I need. But I don’t let the way they look, or the looks they give me, deter me from my end game. I can’t afford to.
My whole world shifts on its axis while I’m standing out in the hallway, waiting to go into my classroom, reading another text from Gabe. The air around me shifts. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I look around for danger because that is the only thing that makes my body feel like this. Like I’m standing in the pouring rain, holding onto an electric fence that is turned all the way up.
That’s when I see her coming down the hall toward me. Straight toward me. I have plenty of time to move out of the way before she collides with me, but I simply choose not to. Why? Like, I have a fucking clue. I can’t blame it on something as simple as her eyes because I can’t see them. Because they are glued to some paper in her hand. But there is something about this girl that holds my attention. She holds captive not only my attention but the air in my lungs, blood in my body, and every thought in my head.
I let my eyes devour her. Unbeknownst to her. Starting with her hair, which is blonde almost to the point of being white and thick by the size of the ponytail it is pulled into. Down to a thin, definitely loved, Guns-n-Roses t-shirt that hugs her chest. A chest that looks like more than a handful, and I have big hands. She has a belly, one that she isn’t currently trying to hide in a loose shirt or by sucking in. Then, I continue down to an equally worn pair of dark wash jeans—that encase thick thighs that will feel amazing clamped around my head—to a beat-up pair of Chuck Taylors.
It is like God crafted her from my dreams and plopped her down right in front of me. The perfect woman for me. My dick turns to a steel rod within seconds as I watch her, and I haven’t even seen her face. A small, sinister smile forms on my face when her body touches mine.
“Fuck,” I say as my arms shoot out, circling her waist, hands splayed out on her back, acting like the gentleman I am not.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” she rushes out.
Finally, her eyes lift from what I can now see is a map of the school, and fuck me, all the air in my lungs gets sucked out by the sight of them. Her body might be turning me on, leaving me speechless, but her angelic face leaves me breathless. Her eyes fascinate me, pulling me in and threatening to pull out every secret I have in my body. I have never seen a pair of eyes so beautiful before; they are the color of metal. Her round, pale cheeks start to turn an attractive shade of red as she notices for the first time what she has run into. Me.
“I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she says breathlessly.
I pull myself back, bringing her back to her feet, and unfortunately, remove my hands from her body. But not without running them across her side, feeling the intake of breath in the form of her stomach sucking in. Her body feels like heaven, soft, warm, and something to hold onto when I’m sinking balls deep in her sweet cunt from behind.
I clear my throat, straighten my black shirt and adjust my cock discreetly. “No harm done.” The map she was intently studying has fallen to the floor, but she doesn’t notice it because her eyes are stuck to mine. Without breaking eye contact, I bend down and pick up the map. “What class are you looking for?”
At the mention of a class, she finally pulls her eyes off me and looks down. Her hands go to the front of her shirt, pulling at the material as if she just now noticed how tight it is. “Um…”
Reaching out, I pull her hands away. “Stop. Don’t want to stretch the material of such a perfect shirt.” Her gray eyes widen, and the pink color on her cheeks darken.
“Perfect?” She cocks her head to the side and looks down. “Oh, the band. I get it. I’ve never listened–”
“No. The band is good, but I was talking about how it hugs your beautiful body.” She narrows her eyes and stares at me like she is searching for a lie or something hurtful in my words, but she won’t find anything of the sort. Don’t get me wrong, I can be an asshole, but that’s not what I’m doing right now.
“O… okay.”
“So, class?” I ask, raising the map.
“Oh, right. College writing with Professor Black,” she answers and tries to take the map out of my hands. But I pull it back at the last second, folding it in quarters and sticking it into my back pocket. “Hey, I need that,” she says, stepping forward.
“Not anymore.” I point to the door to our right. “Room one-oh-four.” I don’t wait for her to say anything. Instead, I grab her hand, open the door, and pull her into the room. The feel of her small hand in mine sends something fluttering in my stomach but I force myself to not think too much about what that means. The room is a hive of talking and laughing as most of the desks are filled with students. I lower my head, trying to look like another student, because I don’t want this game to end. I feel her hand tremble lightly and give a little squeeze that I hope helps. “So, where do you want to sit?”
I look over my shoulder to see her eyes sweep the room, taking in the empty seats. “Depends. Do you know anything about the teacher?”
I laugh lightly, pulling her to the four desks in the empty front row. “Yeah, a little. I’ve heard that he can be a stickler for rules. Kind of a hard ass for people who misbehave in class. But he never calls on the people who sit in the front row.” I sit down and point to the empty seats to my left and right. “That’s why no one ever sits in the front row. They want him to call on them so they can show off.”
She looks at the desk, her head cocked to the side before she lowers herself beside me and pulls out the textbook and a notebook. I take a peek in her bag and see a small plastic frog. I can’t help myself. I reach over and pick it up.
“I thought I got them all out,” she says, blushing again. She reaches for the toy, but I hold it out of her reach.
“Good luck charm?” I set the frog on the desk in front of me. Batting her hand away every time she reaches for it.
“Sort of,” she says, giving up on trying to take it back, and starts looking for something else in her bag. “Shit, of course, I would forget a pen.”
“What’s your name?” I keep my body facing forward so none of the students behind us can see my face. I don’t dress like the other teachers here and I really don’t want someone to end this game before I’m ready for it to be over.
“Ali Thornton, what’s yours?”
“Reed,” I say as someone sitting in the back row starts speaking loudly.
“Dude, where the fuck is this guy? It’s not like him to be late. Maybe the arrogant ass fucking left. It’s five past eight. I heard that the school made a rule that if the teachers aren’t here ten minutes after class is supposed to start, we can leave.” I don’t have to turn around to know who is speaking. A couple of people laugh but I ignore him and focus on Ali.
Her eyes bounce between the other students and me. The urge to slaughter everyone so her attention is solely on me hits out of nowhere and my hands start to twitch. “Is that true?”
I sigh and pick up the frog before saying, “Yeah, it is.” Reaching over, I tuck a piece of hair falling out of her ponytail behind her ear. My fingers itch to touch her more and they start to tingle. “It’s been great, Ali. But it looks like our time is up.” Standing up, I put the frog in my pocket and head to the front of the class. I pick up the black marker, uncap it, and start to write on the board.
“Alright. Settle down everyone. Dean, you don’t want to have to repeat this class again next semester, do you?” Silence falls over the room. I don’t need to turn around to know that Dean is giving me a go-to-hell look. He’s pissed that I failed his ass during the summer. I feel their eyes on me, but the only one I pay attention to is coming from the front row. “If you aren’t here for College Writing one, you are in the wrong class,” I say. After writing my name on the board, I turn around. My eyes instantly find Ali’s, and I’m surprised to see that they are filled with anger. I widen my stance to hide exactly what that look does to me.
“Now, I assume you all took the time to review the syllabus before arriving today. So tell me,” my eyes bounce from student to student before finally landing on her. “Ms. Thornton, how many papers will you be required to write this semester?”
“Stupid girl, that’s why no one sits in the front row,” Dean says in what I assume he thought was a whisper. But the dense jock doesn’t know how to fucking whisper or respect women, from what I’ve been hearing. Ali splutters, her mouth opening and closing. Her face is as red as a tomato. If I laid my hand on her cheeks, I’m confident I would find them hot.
White hot fire races up my spine, leaving a trail of chills in its wake. Ali’s blush deepens and her eyes drop to her lap. “Leave,” I say through clenched teeth. Ali looks up, tears swimming in her eyes, and grabs her books. I quickly move around my desk and step up next to her. I place my hand on her book and push it back down on the desk.
“Not you, Ms. Thornton. I was speaking to Mr. Donavan. Dean, get your shit and leave my fucking classroom,” I say. He mumbles something but obeys my command. Once the door is shut behind him, I pull the frog and a pen from my pocket, sitting them on Ali’s desk. “Now. Ali, how many papers?”
“Four,” she whispers.
“Correct. Now let’s turn to chapter one and get started.” I spend the next fifty minutes lecturing all while trying not to stare at her. It’s the hardest thing I’ve done. She never looks up at me, and I don’t call on her again. Not going to lie. Her ignoring me only makes me want to invade her mind, body and soul more.
“Alright, guys, our time is up. I want a one-page paper on my desk by the next class period. I don’t care what it’s on. This is not for a grade but simply an exercise to see what you know about writing. And when I say one page, I mean handwritten front and back of a college ruled paper.” The noise level rises as everyone starts to talk and gather their stuff, heading toward the door. “Ms. Thornton, can I have a minute of your time?” I ask right as she is standing in front of my desk.
Ali freezes but steps out of the line so the others can go on. Once we are alone, I expect her to continue staring at the floor, but she shocks me by spinning on her heels and slamming her palms against my desk. “How fucking dare you pull something like that! What was that, a test? Single a student out and make them look like a fool.” Her chest is rapidly inflating and deflating making it very hard to pull my gaze away from it.
Oh, my little one is angry. God, she is a breath of fresh air.
I smirk at her and pull off the reading glasses I have to use but hate wearing all the time. “Not even close. But if that’s what you want to go with, sure,” I say, loving the fire in her eyes and the red tint on her cheek. Reaching down, I adjust my erection and bite the inside of my lip to stifle the groan.
“God, you were right. You are an asshole,” she says, crossing her arms.
“Now, is that any way to talk to a teacher?” I ask with a grin on my face.
Her anger quickly fades, replaced by worry. “No,” she whispers, “it’s not.” I laugh profoundly and darkly. “Look, I have to get to my next class.”
Another chuckle falls from my lips. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out her map, stand, and tuck it into her jeans pocket. I don’t give into the urge to grab a handful of her perky ass. “I know,” I say, tucking that strand of hair back behind her ear. Leaning forward, I let my lips brush her ear. “I’ll be seeing you.”