Forbidden: A Student Teacher Romance Read online

  Knowing how obsessed Gary is with Porsches, I went out of my way to find a Carrera 911 in mint condition for them to travel to the airport in. It cost me a dime, but it will be worth it when he comes outside and sees that pretty little thing sitting in the driveway. I’d given him the keys when we arrived at the reception center, but refused to tell him what sort of car I’d rented.

  As I near the Porsche, I see her sitting behind the wheel, seat wound back and eyes closed, bobbing her head in time to the music that’s blaring from the speakers as she drinks her beer. I tap gently on the window, unable to wipe the smirk off my face. She jumps, her eyes widening as they spring open. She mutters what I’m sure are a few curse words, before winding down the window.

  “Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me!” she gasps, her hand on her chest. “Do you always sneak up on unsuspecting girls who are minding their own business?”

  “Only those in the habit of stealing cars.” I smirk, leaning against the door frame. I nod at the beer she’s upturning onto the ground. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

  “Stealing?” she laughs with a snort. “Since when is it a crime to sit in an unlocked vehicle?”

  I make a face. “Yeah, sorry, but I’m pretty sure if I called the cops and told them you stole my car, they’d be charging you with attempting to steal my car.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. This window is going back up in five seconds, so either get in or go away.”

  I hesitate for half a second and then decide, what the hell. Maybe this will lead somewhere, though I’m not entirely sure this girl has her head screwed on completely right. I jog around to the passenger side, slamming the door once I’m safely in the car.

  “Shit, it’s cold out there,” I mutter, shivering.

  She laughs and gestures to her short, sleeveless dress. “You’re complaining? Dude, look at me.”

  I shrug, pretending I have no sympathy for her. “Anyone who makes a conscious decision to wear a sleeveless dress on a day like this deserves to catch a cold.”

  “You’re heartless. I love it,” she grins, her blue eyes sparkling. She taps her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio.

  I glance at the radio and frown. “Hey, how did you get that going?”

  She grins. “Will you call the cops if I tell you I hotwired it?”

  “Jesus, you’re insane,” I mutter, but I can’t help but laugh.

  “No, I just love this car,” she defends herself. “I saw it sitting here, all alone, and I couldn’t resist.”

  I look at her suspiciously, not sure if she’s being serious. “You’re a Porsche fan?”

  “Not just any Porsche. A Carrera fan. You look surprised,” she laughs. I get the feeling she surprises people often.

  “I am, I guess. You look a bit…” Words fail me as I try not to offend her. I would’ve thought this car was a bit before her time.

  “A bit what?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

  “Young?” I offer. I’m hoping to learn that she’s at least legal before this goes any further.

  She shrugs. “I’m eighteen. I grew up around cars. My father and both my brothers are mechanics and heavily into racing. This car is my jam,” she announces, thumping her hand down on the wheel again. “Ask me anything about it, and I’ll answer.”

  “Anything?” I repeat, trying to come up with the most obscure and offbeat question I can think of.

  “Hey, let’s make this interesting,” she says, a smile slowly spreading across her lips. “You ask me a question and if I answer it correctly, we take this baby out for a drive. Deal?”

  “No. No deal,” I chuckle. “No fucking way.”

  “Why not? Scared you’ll lose?” she says in such a way that it gets under my skin. I’m nothing if not competitive.

  “No, I’m just not about to ruin my best friend’s wedding—”

  “Go tell someone who cares,” she says, waving me off, a scowl on her face. “Either grow a pair, or get out and leave me in peace.”

  I grin, not ready to leave her just yet. I love how feisty she is. A question pops into my head that I know she’s not going to be able to answer. It’s a win-win; she loses, I win, and the car stays safely out of her hands. What can go wrong?

  “What year did Porsche have its first win in a 911T?”

  “Pfft,” she scoffs. “Easy. 1954.” Her eyes gleam while my own widen. I was sure that would stump her. Who willingly knows shit like that?

  “How the hell did you know that?” I grumble, shaking my head in amazement. This girl is incredible.

  “I told you, this car is my jam,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Now, are you driving, or am I?”

  Chapter Two

  Darcy

  He steps out of the car and for a moment I think he’s leaving, but then he walks around to the driver’s side and opens the door, motioning for me to get out. His scowl grows wider and so does my smirk.

  “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive this, so get out.”

  I climb out of the car and watch as he gets in, slamming the door shut. I silently cheer, because I didn’t expect him to go along with this. Before he can change his mind, I’m at the passenger door and sliding into the seat, clicking my seatbelt into place.

  My heart’s racing as I tuck my hands under me. I’m not sure what I’m more excited about. The fact that I’m about to go for a drive in the car of my dreams, or the guy sitting next to me is right out of my fantasies.

  I steal a glance at him. He’s so cute, and so much older than me, but that’s how I like them, right? That’s the whole reason we’ve ended up moving halfway across the country, and I’m attending the wedding of a cousin I barely know instead of being trusted to stay at home, alone.

  He pushes his hand through his dark hair, muttering something under his breath. I chuckle, because I still have no idea how I got him to agree to this. I bet I could have some fun with this guy, and forget how disappointing my life is now.

  “I don’t know how I agreed to this,” he mumbles, as if reading my mind. He glances at me. “You’re a bad influence,” he accuses.

  “Me?” I baulk. “You’re obviously older than me. Aren’t you supposed to be better at making decisions or something?”

  “Yeah, so maybe that’s true,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes. He sighs and runs his hand through his short, dark hair again. “Okay. One quick drive up the coast, and then we’re back before Gary notices I’m gone and murders me.”

  “Gary?” I laugh, “Don’t you mean Casey, or should I say bridezilla? I’m sure I’m not the only one who saw her go postal at the waiter because her soup was cold.”

  “Yeah,” I cringe, feeling for the poor guy. “I think we all saw that.”

  “So, how do you know Gary?” I ask. “You said you’re friends?”

  “Yeah, we’ve been friends since our school days. I’ve pretty much known the guy my whole life.”

  I smile, I can already tell how loyal he is to his friends, and there’s nothing more attractive to me than loyalty in a guy. Especially after my track record. Having someone I could rely on would be a nice change. I shudder, forcing myself not to think about that right now, because it’s only going to make me angry and very, very upset.

  “Casey’s my cousin.” I make a face. “She’s actually like my third cousin. In fact, I barely know her, but my parents insisted on dragging me halfway across the state because they were afraid to leave me home by myself.”

  “I’d believe that. I wouldn’t want to leave you alone either,” he chuckles and flashes me a grin. “By the way, did you say you were eight or eighteen?” he adds. I glare at him, letting him know he’s hit a nerve.

  Sometimes I feel as though my parents treat me like I’m eight. I get why they worry, but the past is the past and it should stay that way. I learned from what happened last year, and I just wish they’d trust that I’m mature enough to not make the same mistake again.


  But maybe they’re right. Maybe I haven’t earned their trust back. There’s probably more I can do—like less talking back and more respecting their wishes—to prove to them I’ve matured.

  “So,” he says, attempting to diffuse the awkward silence that’s developing between us. “What do you do? If you’re eighteen, I’m guessing you’re in college?” I nod, deciding he doesn’t need to know I’m still in high school. I’m not lying about my age, so what’s the big deal, right? “What are you studying?”

  “English?” I reply like it’s a question, saying the first thing that pops into my head. It’s so cliché because everyone seems to study English. But I figure if he asks me questions about it, there’s a good chance I can bluff my way through. It was either say English or Mechanics, and I’m sure that’s not a college major.

  “Nice,” he nods. “Any idea what you want to do after you finish?”

  “I’m undecided,” I say honestly.

  Part of me just wants to fuck college off altogether and follow in my father’s footsteps working at the garage, but my mom has serious issues with that. It’s bad enough my brothers did it, but me? A girl? God, no.

  “What’s your passion?” he asks.

  “Like that’s important,” I scoff with a shit-eating grin on my face. “Passion doesn’t pay the bills.” It’s a phrase I heard my mom say a thousand times before.

  “But you don’t want to be locked into something you hate, just because it brings in money.”

  “Hey, I agree with you. I’m just not sure my parents would feel the same way,” I say, holding up my hands. “I’ve had this very same argument with them like a thousand times already.”

  He shrugs. “It’s your life, not theirs. Do what makes you happy.” He chuckles, “God, I sound like a fucking greeting card. I think this wedding business is finally getting to me.”

  I giggle and settle back into my seat as we take off down the road in the direction of the coast. It’s dark, so I can’t see the beach as it creeps up beside us, but as I roll down the window, all I can smell is that beachy breeze. I breathe in, a giddy smile on my face.

  “Are you alright?” he asks me with a laugh.

  “Sorry,” I grin, embarrassed, “I don’t get to the beach very often.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “We were living in Chicago until last week.” I really don’t want to elaborate on why we left. My eyes light up when I see a sign for parking. “Pull in up there,” I say excitedly, nearly jumping out of my seat.

  He brakes hard and pulls into the small parking lot. It’s empty—as you’d expect for this time of night, and as I climb out of the car I hear the waves crashing gently against the rocks in the distance.

  Without waiting for him, I take off toward the beach. When I hit the sand, I kick my heels off and let my toes sink into the damp softness below me. It feels amazing. Maybe living close to the beach won’t be so bad after all. I can see myself coming out here a lot.

  “What are you doing?” he laughs, coming up behind me.

  I turn around, just able to make his face out against the soft moonlight. My heart pounds as I reach behind my back and slowly lower my zipper. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I can’t resist the chance to go skinny-dipping. Realization dawns on his face and he stares at me, horrified.

  “No. No fucking way. I’m not letting you do this,” he growls.

  He puts his arms around me and attempts to tug my zipper up while I try to shrug him off me. Laughing, we struggle until I do the only thing I can think of to distract him. I press my lips against his. It works. He stops, and after a moment of hesitation, his hands cup my face as his mouth presses against mine.

  I wrap my arms around his waist, and without anything holding my dress in place, it slips onto the sand. I kick it aside. He hasn’t even noticed that I’m standing there in only my underwear. Biting my lip, I pull away and raise my eyebrows, a devilish smile forming on my lips.

  “Coming in?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I strut backward, into the water. It laps at my ankles as he stares at me, desire in his eyes. The way he’s looking at me sends a shiver down my spine.

  I turn around and sprint into the freezing cold water, gasping as I dive under the waves. My heart races as I surface, gasping for air.

  “Holy shit, that’s cold,” I laugh, my teeth chattering.

  Then he’s in front of me, staring into my eyes. He wraps his arms around me, his smooth, defined chest naked and against mine.

  “Stay close to me for extra warmth,” he murmurs softly into my ear. I sigh as I feel his lips touch my skin, and he slowly kisses his way down my neck. He’s right; the two of us together, the cold is almost bearable. “Have you got this stupid idea out of your system yet?” he asks, gently chastising me. I laugh and nod, because I don’t trust myself to speak. “Can we get going then?”

  “Soon,” I whisper.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him toward me as I plant my lips on his. He kisses me back, and, as he does, I can feel the erection in his wet boxer shorts growing. I gently grind my thigh against his cock, enjoying the control I have over him right now. He lets out a groan.

  I pull away slightly, just enough so I can study his expression as I slowly dip my hand inside his boxer shorts. I wrap my fingers around his cock and slowly work them up and down in a soft and gentle rhythm. He groans, his expression pained, like he’s torn between stopping me and begging me to continue.

  I have no idea where the courage is coming from, but suddenly I’m on my knees and taking his length in my mouth. The water drifts softly around my shoulders. He groans, his fingers finding my hair and then supporting my head. I suck harder, taking more of him in with every movement. His body tenses, spurring me on. His hands clench down on the back of my head, forcing himself deeper inside my mouth.

  “God, yes,” he gasps.

  His hips buck, his legs nearly giving way as he releases in my mouth. I swallow, using my tongue to massage the last of his orgasm out. He groans, mumbling something under his breath before pulling himself out of my mouth. I smile as he stares down at me, his expression dazed, like he can’t believe that just happened. Without warning, he lifts me into his arms and starts walking out of the water. I hold onto his neck tightly, unable to drag my eyes away from his face.

  Once we’re safely back on dry land, he sets me down and hands me his shirt, and I wrap it around myself gratefully. Could this guy be any sweeter? He stands there in the freezing cold, giving me the clothes off his back.

  I’m about to reach up and repay him with a kiss when a light is shone in my face. I jump back, shielding my eyes from the intrusive light, ready to growl at someone for their lack of manners. Just as I open my mouth, I realize it’s the cops.

  My eyes widen. I glance down, embarrassed that I’m half naked. I look up at… Shit. I don’t even know his name. How do I not know his name? I’m even more embarrassed that I haven’t asked. I gave him head, for God’s sake. How do I not know his name?

  “Officer,” he says, trying to sound as confident as one can when they’re standing in front of two cops, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. I stifle a giggle, which earns me a glare from officer number two. “Can we help you?”

  “You can start by explaining why you’re driving around in a stolen vehicle.” He glowers at my companion and the pile of clothes sitting on the sand with a look of disgust. “We’ll get to this business later.”

  “Stolen?” His confusion gives way to realization. “Oh, shit. He called the police?”

  “That’s usually what happens when someone steals your property,” officer one says, deadpan.

  “No, you’ve got it all wrong. It’s a rental car, and it’s actually in my name. I can show you the documentation.” He glances down, hesitating. “Can I, uh, get dressed?”

  “Please do, sir.”

  We both quickly dress and then walk back to the car, me still stifling my laughter whil
e my companion shoots me dirty looks. Once we’re at the car, he reaches into the glove box and produces all the relevant documentation.

  “And your driver’s license? I assume you have one of those?” He reaches into his back pocket and grabs his wallet, handing his license to the officer. “Well, Mr. Anderson, it appears you’re correct and everything is in order. So now we just have the matter of public indecency.”

  “Come on, it was a late-night swim on a deserted beach. I’d hardly call it indecent,” he says. I snort, because from where I stood, things got pretty indecent.

  “It’s enough of an offense to warrant me dragging your ass down to the station and keeping you in for twenty-four hours,” the officer retorts. Mr. Anderson opens his mouth to respond when I cut in.

  “Please, officer, it was my fault. I’ve never seen the beach before, and I couldn’t resist.” I glance at Mr. Anderson. “He didn’t even know what I was doing. He followed me in to rescue me. Could you let us off with a warning, just this once? I promise it will never happen again.” I smile sweetly, doing my best to charm him, and I can tell it’s working.

  He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Go on then. Get out of here.”

  “Thank you so much,” I say gratefully.

  We quickly climb into the car and buckle up before he changes his mind. Once we’re safely speeding out of the parking lot, I burst into laughter. He glares at me.

  “Were you trying to get us in trouble back there?” he growls. “All those ill-placed giggles and snorts…” He shakes his head.

  “Oh, calm down. It turned out fine, didn’t it?” I huff. “So, shall I just call you Mr. Anderson, or do you have a first name?” I ask.

  “Lennon,” he says, his expression softening. “I’ll get enough of Mr. Anderson in a week.”

  “What’s in a week?” I ask, curious.

  “I start my new job. I’m a teacher.” He makes a face. “Well, I will be as of next Monday.”

  “You’re a teacher?” I ask. A pit of anxiety is forming in my stomach. I know I’m being silly, but I have to ask… “Where?” I keep my tone as casual as possible.