Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Nolan Hendrix
She was gone. I glanced back up from my laptop and the doorway was empty, her silhouette gone like it was never there.
Only the distant hum of early morning noise drifted in from the hallway.
Lena Morrow had vanished like a fucking mirage.
But her scent still lingered—something warm, soft, expensive.
Feminine . The kind of scent that sinks under your skin and sticks.
I sat back in my chair and exhaled slowly.
That woman…
That woman was dangerous.
She was 31 years old, just four years younger than me.
Yes, I knew that ‘cause I read her daughter’s parent file and did my damn homework.
She looked like fucking temptation sculpted in flesh.
Light skin kissed with that soft golden undertone that made her glow like summer.
Cat-like eyes, sharp and low, eyes that made a man feel seen and stripped bare in one breath.
Her hair was long, dark, thick as hell, falling over her shoulders in wild waves that had me gripping air just to stop my damn hand from reaching.
I wanted to fist it, pull her head back and watch those lips part as she moaned my name.
Her lips were full, plush, always a little shiny like she’d just licked them.
It made me think of how they’d feel wrapped around my dick, soft and messy.
Her cheekbones were sharp enough to cut through any weak man’s resolve, and her neck…
God. That neck was made for my mouth. For my teeth. For my fucking hands.
But what fucked me up most was that ass.
Round, thick, walking poetry. Every step she took was a rhythm I wanted to fuck to.
That bounce in her hips had me biting the inside of my cheek, pretending like I wasn’t imagining how they’d feel locked in my hands while I drove myself deep inside her.
Her curves were a whole religion. And I was the sinner ready to pray at the altar of her body.
Everything about her made my dick twitch and my mind go dark. She wasn’t just sexy, she was dangerous. The kind of woman that makes a man ruin his whole fucking life with a smile and still say thank you.
The first day I’d noticed her, I didn’t talk to her. Didn’t need to. Some faces stay in your head whether you want them to or not—especially when they come back to haunt you while you’re trying to fuck somebody else.
That night, a woman was underneath me, begging for more.
But all I saw was Miss Morrow. Her eyes.
Her mouth wrapped around my hard dick. Her soft voice moaning my name.
I had to shut my damn eyes just to avoid calling out the wrong name.
The woman I wasn’t fucking but couldn’t stop thinking about while deep in another pussy.
Then yesterday, when I was trying to clear my head, focus on field trip logistics, chase her outta my system, she sent that message.
At first, I thought it was a mistake. But then I read it again.
And again .
That scene she wrote hadn’t just caught me off guard. It’d hit me like a fist to the chest and gone straight to my fucking dick. The way she’d written it was raw. Dirty. No filter. And once I knew she was an erotic romance author? Fuck. My mind started racing.
I was gonna own her.
Yeah, I knew what the rules said. I knew I wasn’t supposed to even think about a parent like this. But rules were for when you hadn’t already felt her breath on your skin and tasted her name on your tongue. And anyway, I knew that when the time came, I was gonna fuck them rules.
I did not plan to make a move at that moment. Not until she stood in front of me. Flushed. Nervous. Beautiful. And said Mr. Nolan .
All my instincts fired at once. Told me to take her. Fuck her slow to the rhythm of every damn word she’d written. To turn her fantasies into flashbacks.
I wanted her to think about my dick every time she wrote a dirty line. My hands on her body. My fingers in her pussy. My mouth on her clit. I wanted her to write about the way I would make her beg.
I typed out the final numbers for the field trip—thirty-one students, four volunteers—and hit send. Done.
Then I leaned back in my chair and smiled.
This woman had no idea what she just started.
But I did.
And it was gonna be legendary.
Friday
The kids were already on the bus, climbing over seats like they’d never seen a damn window before. Parents were wrapping up, handing off lunch bags and final kisses. Everyone was good to go.
Except Marisa.
I let her wait a minute. She stood at the bottom of the steps, her backpack hugged tight to her shoulders, eyes scanning like someone was missing.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked.
“She dropped me at the entrance and went back home. She couldn’t come. She said she was working this morning,” said the little girl, voice small.
I nodded once and told her to climb onto the bus. Then I pulled out my phone, walked a few steps away, and called her mom.
She answered fast. “Hello?”
“The bus is ready to leave,” I said. “We’re missing one volunteer.”
She paused. “Right. About that... I actually didn’t understand the school message. It said I was a volunteer, but I never signed up for the trip.”
“I know,” I said. “I signed you up.”
The silence was heavy – sharp.
“You did what ?”
“I put your name on the list.”
“Mr. Nolan, what gave you the right to?—”
“It’s Professor Hendrix for you, gorgeous,” I said, dropping my voice, calm and slow.
“Professor? Aren’t you just an elementary school teacher?” she asked, disbelief dripping from her tone, just like everyone else when I tell them what I used to do.
“Do I need to show you my PhD and the records from the classes I taught at the university, Miss Morrow?” I asked, already knowing her mouth was gonna go quiet.
“Uh…”
“If my academic background really intrigues you, I’d be happy to lay out all my credentials—right when my dick’s buried deep inside that sweet pussy.”
I could hear her breath catch, like she was scandalized — but I’d caught her off guard, so no words came out.
“Like I said, Miss Morrow… for you, it’s Professor Hendrix. And that’s exactly what you’ll be calling me when your legs are shaking and your voice is breaking on your own damn words.”
She sucked in a breath, just the way I imagined she would.
“How can you say?—”
“Now listen carefully,” I cut her off. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to bring your fine ass here, or the trip’s canceled. For everyone.”
“You’re not serious.”
I didn’t answer. I just turned toward the open bus door and spoke loud enough for the front seats to hear.
“If our last chaperone doesn’t show up in fifteen minutes, the trip’s off.”
Gasps. Groans.
“That’s not fair!”
“But we’ve been waiting all week!”
“I told my grandma I’d see a T-Rex!”
I brought the phone back to my ear.
“Are you out of your mind?” she snapped.
“I told you,” I said, smiling, “fifteen minutes.”
A beat. Then another.
“Bring me that fat ass and that pussy, Miss Morrow. Don’t make me come pick you up myself, ’cause I will pull this damn bus up to your doorstep and have every kid on board begging to go.
You know I ain’t playing. Now, if you understood the assignment, I wanna hear you say ‘ Yes, Professor Hendrix. ’”
“You’re insane! I’m not saying that shit.”
I didn’t respond. I let her groan and grumble, fight it in her head, until she came to terms with what she couldn’t avoid.
I waited a beat then went into action.
“Bus will stop first at our…”
“Yes, Professor Hendrix,” she said cutting me off with a quiet, husky voice.
She took a slow, shaky breath—desperate and fuckin' turned on.
“I’m coming, Professor Hendrix. Please… don’t bring that bus to my place. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”