His Prize Pupil

I’m not sure how long we lay there, my thighs slung over his shoulders, our labored breaths filling the room. Maybe two minutes has passed when Gavin eases my legs back down, letting them fall to the bed on either side of his hips. He lifts his eyes to mine and they’re full of disbelief, full of something deeper than affection.

Something closer to obsession, though I’ve never seen it up close.

My fingertips tremble in the presence of it. My heart misses a beat.

My little girl. Mine.

“I going to need a lot longer than a fucking hour with you, Alana,” he says, his voice rife with intensity. “A lot longer. Do you understand me?” He leans down and traces my nipple with the tip of his tongue and it buds, as if on command. “We’re going to have a discussion, you and me. If I can manage to keep my cock out of you for five minutes.”

Hypnotized in the face of such possession, all I can do is nod. “Okay.”

Gavin sits up, his reluctance obvious. He stands and pulls his pants up. Pants that never made it down past his knees, situating his still semi-hard erection back into his briefs. “I’m going to pay for another few hours. Do not move from this bed.”

I sit up, still disoriented from my climax. “Why don’t we just go somewhere else to talk?”

Gavin raises an eyebrow. “Where? A coffee shop?” His gaze falls to my leaking sex. “So help me God, Alana, I’ll end up fucking you over the display case.”

Gulp. “Oh.”

His amusement makes my own lips jump, but the twinkle in his eyes quickly turns to concern. He comes toward the bed, reaching out to cup my cheek. “Are you okay?” His thumb brushes the bow of my lips. “I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve hurt you.”

Something tightens in my chest. “It was perfect,” I whisper.

A line moves in his cheek. “Utterly.” His hand drops and he backs away. “Don’t. Move.”

When she door closes behind him a moment later, I throw myself back into the pillow and gape at the ceiling. Oh my God. What just happened? I think…I think I might have serious feelings for this man I’ve only known for an hour. This man who took my virginity.

At the reminder, I toss back the covers to find a bright spot of red blood on the white sheet, the size of a rose petal. My hands fly up to cover my smiling mouth. What does Gavin want to talk to me about? Does he want to be my boyfriend? I don’t even know his last name.

No, all I know about him is his secret.

A trickle of desire warms me and I get up to clean myself off. As soon as my feet touch the ground, there’s a knock on the door. Assuming it’s Gavin and he accidentally locked the door, I go to open it a crack, finding Ripley instead.

Her face is streaked with black mascara tears and she’s clutching the blue robe around her trembling body. “I have to go,” she whispers brokenly. “I have to get out of here. Now.”

Concern obliterates any of my lingering desire. “Oh my God, Rip. What happened?”

“I’ll tell you later, just…please drive me home.” She casts a nervous glance down the hallway. “Now?”

Best friend code dictates I don’t hesitate. Ripley is not the pleading type, so I know this is serious. “Of course.” I jump into action, gathering my robe off the floor and belting it around my waist. When I exit into the hallway, I expect us to detour to the changing room so we can grab our clothes, but Ripley is already heading toward the emergency exit. “Wait,” I call in a stage whisper. “I need my car keys.”

She dangles them over her shoulder without slowing down.

For a brief few seconds, I hesitate on the threshold of the emergency exit door leading to the parking lot. I look back at the dim brothel and beg Gavin to appear, so I can explain. So I can give him my phone number. But he doesn’t—and I run out of time, concern for my best friend pulling me into the crisp, fall air.

You’ll find a way to get his information.

And I try. I really do. Unfortunately, Estelle won’t cough up any of his details due to client confidentiality, and my searches online have little to go on. A week later, when the payment has been transferred into my bank account and I leave for art school, I’ve lost all hope of ever seeing Gavin again, though memories of his touch continue to wake me up in the middle of the night, sweat coating my body, his name on my lips.

If it wasn’t for the money, I would think it was all a dream.

Little do I know that on the first day of classes, that theory will be thoroughly shattered.