Tully (Dangerous Doms 7)

“Tully!”

“Say it.”

She squirms and wriggles as I hold her to me, smelling faintly of roses.

“Tully,” she whispers.

“Say it.”

She closes her eyes and sighs, her lips twitching. “I’m yours. Now let go of me before someone sees!”

I send her to her desk with a teasing smack. She grumbles and mumbles to herself, but looks secretly pleased, her lips turned up and a little flush to her cheeks.

If I’m to sit in on these classes and re-learn the ins and outs of World Fucking History, I’ll enjoy myself in the process. In this case, that means mentally stripping her and imagining how gorgeous she’d look strewn across her desk as I fucked her.

The bell rings, and she waits primly in the door, every fucking schoolboy’s fantasy come true. Though she dresses modestly, I know every curve and valley beneath those clothes. I know what makes teacher blush.

The boys are less rowdy than usual as they tumble into the classroom, and I suppose it has something to do with rumors that I’ve come to pay the school a visit. The men of the Clan are revered at St. Albert’s. Every one of the boys that go here do so with the goal of being in this position one day.

I watch as McKenna smiles at the boys as they enter the room. Some give me furtive glances, while others smile shyly. I don’t smile, I don’t wave, but sit at the back of the class with my arms crossed over my chest. I’m not here to fuck around. I’m here to protect McKenna.

Class begins, and I’m quickly enamored with her. She hands out papers and speaks with confidence, easily talking about the impact of World War II to everyday people and the rise of Hitler.

“Who can offer their answers for last night’s homework assignment?”

One boy in the back raises his hand, and she calls on him. I watch as she smiles and nods, then turns back to the board and writes down notes for the boys to take. One lad a few rows up pokes the back of his mate, who turns around, glares, then catches my eye and blanches.

“Shut up,” he hisses, turning back around. Good. None of them better misbehave in her class.

McKenna turns back around and continues a lively class discussion, and I watch as she commands the class. I love watching her teach. Her eyes are alight as she moves up and down the aisles, her passion shining clean through.

Who knew that was hot? I can’t wait to get my hands on her. There’s something about the way she speaks, the way she handles these topics with ease, that shows me she’s bloody brilliant.

And she’s mine.

All mine.

The class goes on without a hitch, until the last five minutes. McKenna turns back to the board, and I’m distracted by sudden movement outside the window. It catches the attention of a few boys near the windows as well. I watch, not moving, as McKenna turns back around and faces the class.

What the bloody hell was that?

I look again, and this time, I get to my feet. Now I’ve got McKenna’s attention and the rest of the class’, as I head to the window. All I can see now are the bushes outside the window and the paved pathway that takes the students to the eating hall. McKenna’s voice wavers, and when I look at her she tips her head to the side.

I give one gentle shake of my head, and she resumes teaching. The boys are distracted, though, as I’m standing in the back of the class. I catch a few furtive glances, but thankfully a quick scowl makes them divert their attention back to the front of the room.

There’s a sudden boom outside the window.

Fuck!

Smoke billows into the air, and I spring into action. In seconds, I’ve got McKenna pinned to the floor beneath me as I shout to the students. “Hit the ground! Cover!”

There’s a sudden scramble as chairs and desks squeak out of the way and books and bags hit the floor. She’s fully pinned beneath me.

“Tully! What is it?” McKenna says. “Let me up! I need to make sure my students are safe!”

But my goal is to protect her.

We’re breathing heavily, and I’m listening when a second explosion comes on the heel of the first. I can hear the sound of classroom doors opening and closing, and we try to get our bearings. Goddammit, I have to get to my feet and see what’s going on.

“Stay here,” I growl, pointing beneath her desk. “You take cover under the bloody desk, and I’ll make sure your students are fine.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but she finally actually bloody listens to me for once. She nods.

I get to my feet, gun drawn, and make my way to the window. I see nothing, but teachers are pouring out of the building. Jesus, we need to go over fucking safety protocols for times like this. I see billows of smoke but that’s it. Literally nothing else. No assailants, no weapons. What the bloody hell was that?