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Under My Boss's Control

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Under His Care

Love Under Lockdown, Book 8

Jamie Knight –

Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author

Chapter 1

Stacey

Even though I had recently graduated college, it still feels weird, walking down the halls of a high school. Even though it’s not my old school, it brings back a lot of memories. I still carry my papers under my arm. I had tried to dress conservatively, seeing as I am a teacher’s assistant now, opting for slacks and a dressy blouse. I check the notes that I was given about my assignment.

I walk down the hall and look for the room I’m assigned to, checking my notes. It’s still early, so kids are running around, being silly. I smile, remembering those days well.

My notes say that I am assigned to work under the history teacher, Mr. Winston. I haven’t met him yet, so I’m nervous.

I finally find the classroom and stand nervously outside the door. I have to remind myself that I’m not a little kid anymore. I take a deep breath, open the door, and walk inside.

School hasn’t started yet, so the classroom is still empty. I look around at the familiar setting, getting caught up in nostalgia. From across the room, I hear him clear his throat.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his voice smooth. I’m startled from my thoughts and look up at him nervously. Immediately, my mind draws a blank. He raises one perfect eyebrow at me.

“Oh, right.” I clear my own throat. “I’m Stacey Mikhailov, your new teaching assistant.”

I walk forward and hold out my hand.

“Ah, yes. A pleasure to meet you. I’m Chris Winston. You may refer to me as Mr. Winston,” he says in a no-nonsense tone.

He’s clearly the serious type. He shakes my hand briefly, then turns his back on me. I want to gush so hard.

I loved feeling his hand for those few seconds. As he talks about my assignment, I try to pay attention, but all I can stare at are his chiseled features, his dark, tanned skin. I want to run my fingers through his wavy hair.

“The students can just call me Ms. Stacey if they want,” I inform him. “I know that my last name, Mikhailov, can be a mouthful.”

As I say the word “mouthful,” I blush. I know I didn’t mean it in a perverted sense, but I wonder how Chris will take it. I can’t seem to think about anything other than wanting to take his cock in my mouth and swallow a big load of his cum.

I know I shouldn’t be having these thoughts. He’s my boss, after all. And I’m a virgin. I don’t normally go around thinking about giving guys blow job. But he’s not just any guy. He is so hot!

I see him frown and realize that he has noticed me not paying attention, which I guess is a good thing, considering what I just said. I straighten up, and he continues.

“As you know, this is 12th-grade history. I run a tight ship, but we do have fun in here. There are no real troublemakers in here, so you don’t have to worry about that. Pretty much all the kids at this school are well behaved, ” he says.

I try to hide my smile as he looks at me.

“I think you’ll do just fine here. I heard that you graduated college with honors and aced every class.”

I blush in surprise at the compliment. “Yes, I did. I hope to do a good job here and learn as much as I can,” I say, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice.

He gives me a little smile, saying, “I’m sure you will.” I could practically melt into a puddle right there.

He shows me my desk, where I can put my belongings. He explains his grading techniques, and his usual schedule for assigning homework and quizzes. I try my best to pay attention; it’s difficult, because he’s so dreamy, but I really want to impress him.

Before the bell rings, he sends me on an errand to copy some worksheets for the kids who are out sick. The whole time I’m in the office using the copier, I think about him. By the time I get back to class, it has already started. I try to open the door quietly; when I walk in, he is writing on the board, but when he sees me, he stops. I walk forward and hand him the worksheets.

I try to walk to my desk, but he says, “Class, I’d like you to meet our new teaching assistant, Stacey Mikhailov. She will be with us for the rest of the semester.”

I say “Hi” to the class, and add, “You can call me Ms. Stacey”; they greet me in unison with a “Hello, Ms. Stacey.”

Mr. Winston nods at me and I go to my desk. He sets the copies I made down on his own desk before going back to writing on the board. I watch him for a little while, daydreaming about feeling his hands again.



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