Tempting Teacher (The Pierce Family)

I need tonight.

I need to be the person to introduce her to this.

I take her hand, gather her coat, lead her out of the lobby to the elevator bank. The finance bros standing in the space shoot me a way to go, dude look.

For a second, I think of Raul's crooked smile. He fit into this world. He knew how to work with these kinds of men.

When he told me our start-up would be epic, I laughed, but he was right. He made the two of us a fortune.

He was like Opal. Light and sunshine.

Or so I thought.

Given current events—

Fuck. I'm not here to dwell on past mistakes.

I'm here to get out of my fucking head. To push the clouds aside the only way I know how.

Opal is sunshine, and I won't be her storm cloud. That's all I need to know.

This is a fair deal—I introduce her to a world of play in exchange for one night soaking up her rays—then I say goodbye. That's the only way to protect her.

No ugly memories, no awful labels, no fear of the future.

Only a gorgeous brunette coming on my hands, face, cock.

What better way to celebrate?

Or commiserate?

Or honor?

Whatever the fuck it's supposed to be.

The shiny doors slide open.

The finance bros step inside. Shoot us a you coming look.

I press my palm into Opal's lower back. Lead her into the elevator.

She looks to the men in suits with recognition, but she doesn't say anything.

The car stops on the fourth floor. One of the finance bros winks on his way out the door. He trades a laugh with his friend, something about a woman they want to share.

The doors slide together at a painfully slow rate.

Opal lets out a heavy sigh.

"Someone you know?" I ask.

"Only the type," she says. "My brother is in finance."

"Are you close?"

"We are. I'm closer to my oldest brother."

"How many do you have?"

"Four." She hesitates. "Three."

She lost a brother. I want to know more, to know everything about her, but she's not here to discuss ugly things. And tonight isn't about my depraved desires.

It's about hers.

"What's he like?" I ask. "Your oldest brother?"

"Like you," she says.

"Kinky?"

"No." Her cheeks flush. "At least, I don't think so. God, is he? He's always busy with his girlfriend. Like a high school student with his first love. But I guess that's fitting, since they met in high school. Shit. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

She is and it's adorable. "Don't apologize."

"He's quiet and serious sometimes and funny sometimes. Protective."

Like me.

"And he commands the room the same way too. People fall in line. Something about him."

That isn't me, not the way she means, not as an executive. But here—

It is me here.

"Not that I'm thinking about my brother. Only that, well, they're all around your age, and they wear suits. But you don't look like them. So it's not weird. We all have blue eyes. And we're all white. Not that I'm curious about your ethnicity. Only it's not—"

"My mother is Japanese."

"I wasn't asking. It was more—"

"I know. You're nervous. It's normal."

Her cheeks flush.

My blood rushes south. She's adorable. And responsive.

I need to toy with her.

To find every spot that makes her purr.

But I need to be careful too. She's new to this. I need to be gentle with her. Not give in to my desire to fuck her hard and fast immediately.

I will fuck her hard and fast—

When I'm sure she's ready.

The elevator doors slide open. I press my palm into her lower back and lead her into the hallway, around the corner, all the way to the door.

I pull the key out of my pocket and press it into her palm. "After you."

She nods and slips the card into the electronic lock. Click-click. The light flashes green. The space opens.

She takes a deep breath and steps inside.

I hang her coat on a hook on the wall. "Do you want a drink?"

"No thank you." She flicks the light switch. Her big, blue eyes go wide as the room illuminates. She studies the space with interest. The narrow hallway, the leather armchair, the desk in the corner.

The skyline in the wide window.

Usually, New Yorkers annoy me, but there's something about Opal's sincere love of the view. I want to watch her stare. I watch to see her in her space. Her room, her apartment, her city.

I give her a moment to move into the main room and take in the space. I wait until she's in front of the couch.

Then I start. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

I make her wait. I silently count to ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Twenty-five.

Thirty.

Forty.

Fifty.

It's too quick—I should go to a hundred—but I'm impatient.

And she's already wound tight with anticipation.

This is it. The start. One night with the gorgeous brunette. One night of sunshine, then I release her.

I stare into her beautiful blue eyes, and I begin. "Take off your dress."