Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Lena Morrow
I sprinted through the parking lot like my life depended on it.
It kind of did. Fifteen minutes. That’s what he gave me.
I didn’t even have time to think. I threw on the first dress I could grab, a floral one I usually saved for grocery runs or lazy Sunday’s.
No bra. No makeup. Just me, sweaty, breathless, and ready to curse out a damn school teacher.
The bus came into view and I spotted the kids already inside, some with their faces pressed to the windows. Mr. Nolan stood at the steps, arms crossed. Calm. Dangerous .
Fuck!
I could feel sweat causing the dress to stick to my lower back, my thighs, and between my breasts. I probably looked wild, half-melted, chest rising like I’d run a marathon. Which I basically had.
I stopped just a few feet from him, hands on my knees, trying to breathe.
He didn’t move. Just looked me up and down like I was the only thing worth watching this morning. His eyes dragged over me slowly—over my hair, my collarbone, the way my dress clung to my body.
Then he checked his watch.
“You’re one minute late,” he said, jaw tight.
I blinked up at him, still panting. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
He didn’t answer. Just stared for a second. Then tilted his head toward the bus. “Get on.”
I stepped forward, ready to climb the steps and get this shit over with.
But his hand shot out and caught my arm.
He leaned in, real close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“You have no idea how much one minute late is gonna cost you.”
My breath hitched.
“What?” I whispered, heart stuttering.
He locked his eyes on mine, and the heat in that stare was pure fire—slow, focused, and filthy. There was no smirk, no mercy, just that deep, deliberate look like he was already undressing my mind, inch by inch, until there was nothing left but the way my body reacted to him.
“Get on the bus, Miss Morrow,” he said. “Your little field trip into one of your dirty-ass novels is about to start. And trust me... it’s gonna be filthier than anything you’ve ever dared to write.”
My pussy clenched. Just like that. I was soaking straight through my panties. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
My fingers tightened on the rail as I climbed up, pulse wild, thighs pressed together like that could save me.
It couldn’t.
Not from him.
I climbed the bus, heat still rushing through my chest. My breath hadn’t fully come back, and my thighs were already sticking from the sweat clinging beneath my dress. I scanned the rows quickly and spotted Marisa near the middle. Her smile lit up the second she saw me.
“Mom!”
I leaned down, kissed her forehead, and wrapped her up in a tight hug. My body was still buzzing, but I tried to keep my voice steady.
“I thought you weren’t coming!” she grinned.
“Change of plans,” I managed to say, smiling like I wasn’t being emotionally kidnapped by her damn teacher.
I straightened, nodded to the other parents, and slid into a seat next to one of the volunteers – a soft-spoken mom who was already busy handing out snacks to the kids around her. I sat quietly, wiped a bit of sweat from my forehead, and tried to collect myself.
Then Mr. Nolan climbed on and just like that, the energy shifted.
The kids who’d been yelling seconds ago started whispering.
Some sat up straighter. Others shut their mouths like they already knew better.
Mr Nolan walked the aisle slowly, checking bags, counting heads, crouching to speak to one of the smaller boys who looked nervous.
His voice was gentle but firm. Everything about his presence screamed authority—and the crazy part?
The kids respected him. Listened to him.
I watched from the side of my eye, pretending not to be impressed. But damn, he was good. Like, too good. He was the kind of man who knew how to handle chaos without raising his voice. The kind who said one thing, once , and meant it.
When he finished, he gave the driver a short nod and turned to walk toward the back.
My stomach dropped instantly.
Every step he took closer made my chest feel tighter. I stared out the window, gripping my seat, praying he would pass. That maybe, just maybe, he’d let me be.
He didn’t.
He stopped right next to me.
I looked up slowly, and he was already staring, eyes locked on mine like I owed him something.
“Stand up and come sit in the back,” he said.
My throat went dry. “Why?”
His voice alone sent heat crawling up the inside of my thighs. I hated that he knew it.
He leaned in, his lips brushing close to my ear, and the warmth of his breath against my skin made my spine go stiff.
“I don’t like to repeat myself,” he said, low and controlled.
“But I’ma say this so you understand. I’m putting my fingers inside that warm pussy for the whole ride.
You can either stay right here, a few chairs from your daughter, and moan my name where everybody might hear.
.. or you bring your ass to the back and sit the fuck down so I can finger-fuck you without causing a scene. Your choice.”
I froze.
My breath caught in my throat, and I could already feel the heat pooling between my legs. I wasn’t sure if I heard him right or if my brain just couldn’t process it.
I looked up into his eyes, searching for any sign that he was bluffing.
He wasn’t.
That stare was steady. Heavy. Like he already had me. And honestly? Maybe he did.
My pussy clenched hard, so full and aching it hurt. I felt the wetness hit my panties all at once, and I couldn’t believe how fast it took. How fast he got me there.
I stood without a word and down the aisle like I wasn’t burning inside, like every step wasn’t a surrender. I could feel him behind me, so close his chest nearly brushed my back, and every inch of me felt exposed. Open.
I slid into the last seat by the window, turning toward the glass like maybe I could breathe again.
But I couldn’t.
Not with him sitting down beside me, not with the heat of his thigh pressed into mine like he had every right to be that close.
I tried to pretend he wasn’t there, but then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “you smell so fucking good.”
Then his hand rested on my leg. Firm and sure. Claiming . The touch of his skin on mine sent an electric shock through me, igniting every nerve ending along my thigh, heat pooling low in my belly, and trapping a gasp in my chest as my breath hitched and my pulse thundered against my temples.
I turned to him, breath shallow, eyes wide.
He looked right at me, calm as ever, voice smooth like velvet soaked in sin.
“In any of those dirty novels you write, Miss Morrow, has your main character ever cum in a bus full of kids and a few parents?” he asked, eyes still locked on mine.
I shook my head slowly, unable to form a single word.
“Then you’re about to write a new fucking story. And you better call it Yes, Professor Hendrix ... because you’re about to obey . Right here, when my fingers slide into that pussy. You understand?”
I nodded, breath catching. My chest rose and fell so fast I thought I’d pass out. I didn’t know how I gave in so easily, but I did.
He waited.
Then asked, “what are the magic words?”
I hesitated for half a second, then whispered, “ Yes, Professor Hendrix. ”
And fuck.
I was dripping.
Sitting on a bus full of people, and I was soaked like I’d been begging for this all along.