What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [31]
She found herself in a large schoolroom. She could even smell old books, aging wooden desks, and the scent of chalk. Moving farther into the space, she glanced down at the teacher’s desk to find props that made it feel all the more real: a teacher’s gradebook, a pencil holder, a couple of history textbooks, and a wooden bin filled with tests, marked with red ink. When she noticed the one on top bore the name Jenna and had received an F, written in angry red strokes, she fought to conceal a smile. She was beginning to understand her role here.
Except that it still surprised her to walk around the front of the desk in her sexy heels, clicking loudly on the tile floor with each step, and see a nameplate that read: FATHER POWERS. “Oh,” she murmured, discovering his role as well.
“Do you know why I made you stay after school today, Jenna?”
At the sound of the deep, sexy voice, she looked up with a start to see Brent had entered the room through another door in the back, wearing the black suit and collar of a priest. And—oh God—if it was possible, he looked even hotter than he had last night, a mere glimpse of him making the mound beneath her short skirt flutter. But maybe it was just because she hadn’t seen him since then—maybe she’d forgotten exactly how good-looking he was.
“Answer me!” he snapped. “Do you?”
“Um . . . no.” Lord, she was flustered. She’d never been much of an actress and hadn’t had a chance to think about this aspect of things.
He proceeded up an aisle between rows of desks until he stood only a few feet away, after which he gave her a once-over that told her he liked what he saw. When their eyes met again, her breasts seemed to swell within the tight cups of her bra. “You’re consistently late for class,” he said without breaking the gaze, “you fail all your tests, and you try to tease and distract me with your body. You’re a very naughty girl, Jenna.”
Again, she felt the response between her thighs, even if she didn’t quite understand why.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked, eyebrows raised. And wow, he was good in his role, since she actually felt a little intimidated by his brusque manner—nothing like the man she’d met last night.
“Um . . . I’ll try to do better?” she managed.
“Not good enough, Jenna. I’m going to have to teach you a lesson—you’re going to learn who’s in charge here once and for all. You need to be punished.”
Punished. She swallowed, not sure what he meant. “How?” she whispered.
He never took his eyes off hers. “Bend over my desk,” he said. Then he stepped past her and used one arm to sweep half the desktop’s contents to the floor in a loud clatter that made her flinch—which she felt in her panties as much as everywhere else.
God. Despite her arousal, well . . . this changed things. It was a far cry from the romantic sex she’d hoped for. And maybe the schoolgirl outfit had made her anticipate something . . . well, at least playful—but they’d just left playful behind. “Seriously?” she asked.
He looked positively outraged by the question, his expression actually making her take a step back as her heart pounded against her ribs. “When I give you an instruction, you do it. Do you understand? Now, bend over!”
Jenna sucked in her breath and slowly moved to where he stood. Biting her lip, she leaned over the big desk until the upper half of her body rested on it. She turned her head sideways, toward him, to try to see what was coming, not at all sure she was ready for it.
“Lift your skirt up over your ass,” he demanded.
In response, even in her subdued position, lust continued to flow through her veins. After all, she’d wanted to show him—all through her preparations, she’d wanted him to see her. And despite the weirdness of being bossed around this way, as she reached behind her to flip up the tiny skirt, revealing the strip of lace there, her arms felt heavy, warm.
Upon seeing her bottom, he let out a low sound of approval that ran all through her.
But when he