Defy (Sinners of Saint 0.5)

Monday was the best day of my entire career. Everything ran smoothly, and when I reached the last class with Jaime and his friends, they all behaved.

Everyone…other than Jaime.

He was messing with his phone, as usual. Since he wasn’t looking at me, I let it slide. I wanted to teach this class without feeling my nipples puckering under his scorching gaze.

My phone on my desk flashed. I resisted the urge to check it, focusing on Millie, who was standing up, reading a poem she’d written. She was good. A creative spirit, with an artistic flare that poured through every cell in her body. Did she want to write? Maybe paint? Her textbooks and hands were always decorated with doodles, her nose always buried in a book. With the right guidance and nurturing, she could do great things.

I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wasn’t the person to bring them out of her. I lacked motivation, compassion, and authority, the three qualities that made a great teacher.

As I stared at her, I realized that even Vicious was quiet when she spoke. She had the kind of quirky charm a girl couldn’t fake. Everyone’s eyes were on her, which allowed me to sneak a peek at my phone. In the words of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman: Big mistake. Big. Huge.

Jaime:

I missed you this weekend. Thought your ungrateful ass would text me a thank you for saving you from the wrath of Vicious. Alas, I was wrong.

Wow. Did he have any idea how much trouble he could get us into if someone saw this text? Students and teachers had each other’s numbers for professional purposes only. I ignored him and continued nodding at Millie, smiling tightly. Ping, another text came.

Jaime:

It’s cute how you pretend to listen to Millie when I know your just waiting for the clock to hit 3 so I can bend you over that desk and fuck you so hard the windows will rattle.

Of course, I didn’t grace that message with an actual answer. Although, I was itching to correct “your” with “you’re.” The Lit teacher in me hated when people misspelled shit. Apparently, even during sexting.

My cheeks darkened, and I played with my anchor necklace, brushing it against my lower lip. I coughed, clearing my throat, and said, “Louder, Millie.”

She looked around, anxious as I was, and reluctantly raised her voice with the next line. Her poem was pretty fascinating, actually. About life and death and the way the cherry blossom tree symbolizes both. Everybody was quiet and alert. Dean Cole had his elbows on his desk, leaning forward, drinking her words like they were oxygen. And Vicious? He looked at her like she was his.

But there was no point. The only thing my ears were tuned into was what I secretly hoped to hear—the sound of my phone vibrating against the table as another message came through.

Jaime:

Your nipples are so tight I could cut fucking diamonds with them, baby. It’s a turn on when everyone can see what I do to you. In half an hour, I’m going to shove my hand into your pencil skirt and my fingers into that pussy. Digging into Ms. G’s G-spot and hitting it again and again until you pass out from your orgasms.

I circled the table and leaned back against it facing the class, hoping they couldn’t see the blush that was a daily challenge since the start of our affair. Jesus! Affair? That was a bit much. It wasn’t an affair. I was fucking my student, and my future, all at the same time. Nonetheless, I couldn’t stop. I scanned the classroom full of students, and his face was the only one that stood out in the sea of bland teenagers. I barely registered the other faces, lost in the fog of lust.

Another vibration. This time I waited a few seconds before I glanced his way and found him smirking at his phone. Asshole.

Jaime:

Then I’ll take my hand out, let you lick my fingers one by one, suck on them hard, and beg for me to take you. But I won’t. You’ll have to go down on me first, and I’ll make you choke on my cock until you can’t breathe. How would you like that, Mel?

I was sweating. Sucking in short breaths. Millie finished reading her poem. She was still standing, expecting my feedback. All eyes were on me. She’d done a wonderful job from what I could decipher in my lust-induced haze, but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth. I was truly afraid that I’d blurt out something about Jaime and his dick. It really was too fucking beautiful not to be celebrated by our fine nation.

“Millie,” I started, clearing my throat when I realized my voice cracked. I heard Jaime softly chuckle in the back of the room. I was going to kill him when the class was dismissed. Her big, blue Bambi eyes followed my every movement as I spoke. “I thought it was brilliant. Your poem had a rhythm like heartbeats. It was…enchanting,” I managed, my smile almost apologetic.