Sinful

When she doesn’t come back after class, I make a point to stop at the infirmary to check on her. There are two senior boys in the middle of the infirmary when I get there. Olivia is in-between them, kissing one, letting the other grope her from behind. Lacey is nowhere to be seen. Nor the nurse, for that matter.

“What’s going on here?

The boys turn their heads to look at me. There’s a flash of scorn on their arrogant faces. Neither one makes a move to cover up or step away from the girl. Taking in the scene, my brow furrows. Am I really seeing this? Fuck a duck. Yes, I am. I suck in a breath, quickly evaluating that this is some kind of orgy that I’ve just stumbled into, and I need to put a stop to it, fast.

“Here to join the party?” the dark-haired guy drawls, standing behind the girl with a hand possessively on her waist, eyeing me up and down. That look from him only makes my blood boil more.

“What’s your name?” I snap, but I already know who they are. I remember them from the test match on the cricket green and from the never-ending gossip circulating in the school.

The dark-haired one is Zane Holland.Tall, dark, and handsome, Zane, the only son of Pieter and Laurel Holland, film stars and local celebrities who preside like royalty over half the county. I should have known it was him. There are rumors…about his inability to understand no means no.

Zane actually scoffs. “Who gives a fuck who we are.”

“If you’re not joining in, piss off. We’re busy,” the other one drawls.

They all find that incredibly funny, even Olivia, to my disappointment. I don’t.

“This isn’t funny. Where is Lacey?”

Zane laughs, his crazy eyes peering at me.

Zane Holland, am I right?” I give the dark-haired guy a glare. “And you must be Blackwood?” I demand of the blond.

“Maybe, maybe not,” says the blond as he turns toward me. I narrow my eyes at the adonis, corded with muscle on every part of him. Of course, it’s Carter Blackwood. His handsome face is all over the student newsletter. Ace rugby player and much-admired jock from one of the founding families of the town. But this close, he’s unreal. A greek monster in the flesh. He’s bursting out of his shirt; he’s so ripped.

“You are Carter Blackwood,” I repeat, like an idiot.

He doesn’t answer, a grin plastered firmly on his face as he cocks his head. Then he reaches down and fondles himself right in front of me. Fuck. I forgot. He’s half-naked. His trousers are undone and halfway down his meaty thighs. I dare not look directly at it, even though his shirttails are saving me from the indecency. My body, however, has other ideas and flushes my face bright fucking red while Carter just stands there, staring, grinning…

Yanking his cock.

Erection pointed right at me.

“You revolting little prick,” I hear myself say.

Carter laughs and carries on. I do my best to appear haughty, keeping my lips in a thin line, my eyes on his insolent face.

“This fucking bitch…she just called you revolting, mate,” Holland exclaims.

I jerk my gaze back to the dark-haired boy. “You do know, I’m a teacher at this school?” I ask him. “And I’m already reporting you both to the headmaster. So I suggest you get dressed and leave now, or I’ll—”

Zane fake yawns. “Really? You don’t look like one of the old goats.” He raises both brows, eyeing me up and down. “You look like one of my Da’s secretaries with her skirt up to her ass, begging for a quick shag over the photocopier.”

My breath quickens. I’m wearing a pencil skirt and blouse with heels. An outfit I felt was professional this morning now feels too feminine and revealing. I resist the urge to pull my skirt down a few inches. “Report to the head, now.”

Holland sighs, mouth curling up into a sardonic smile as he rolls his eyes and looks at his friend. “Fucking new teachers. Always trying to throw their weight around.”

“Fucking desperate for it, if you ask me,” Carter snorts, still making a motion with his hand that I know if I look down, I’ll see him rubbing the length of him. The little shit tacks on a sly wink when he catches me looking.

Olivia is the only one who looks uncertain. “Come on, let’s go. The bitch is ruining my high.”

“Where is Lacey,” I say to her.

“Who the fuck knows,” she slurs. I don’t miss her gaze flicking to one of the closed doors at the far end of the clinic. The nurse’s office.

My body is moving of its own accord, books and files forgotten as I shove them on a nearby chair. The door isn’t locked, but I can see someone inside through the frosted glass.

I push open the door. The scene that greets me is not what I expected.