bright yellow chair. My knees knocked together. My thighs spilled over the seat. It was like sitting in a dollhouse.
Front and center on Jack’s desk was a card addressed To my Daddy . On the cover was a blobby coloring of me—the giant of course—and him sporting the same wild black hair with a big red clown smile.
I picked up the card and opened it:
Besd things bout my famlee.
I read the paragraph inside, Jack’s misspelled words scrawled in huge looping letters, through a blur of sudden tears I blinked away. He named his favorite stuffed animals first. Then he wrote about how he liked making pancakes with Momma. The final sentence was about me, how I kept him safe, checking under the bed and in the closet at night before I tucked him in.
“He’s a good kid.” I cleared my throat and put the card in my pocket.
“Yes, he is.” JB smiled. “He’s wonderful to have in class. Helpful, bright, he does get distracted and socializes a bit too much sometimes, but they all do.”
I laughed. “Socializes? That a polite way to say he’s a motor mouth?”
Her sparkly laughter joined mine.
Jesus. I could see why Jack loved her. Funny and sweet and smart. And damn, she was so beautiful.
Feeling the need to explain the situation, I said, “We’re not together, his mom and me. Not married. We were never like that. I mean we love each other, more like friends now. Weren’t ever in love . . .”
“You don’t have to tell me anything, Hunter.”
“Considering what we got up to the other night, I think I do.” I scowled.
“And I think we should focus on Jack.”
Sighing, I sprawled in my chair, as much as I could anyway. “He loves your class. Can’t stop talking about you.” I knew the feeling. “He’s fitting in okay, isn’t he?”
“He’s fantastic. You and his mom must be doing a good job with him. He’s right on track with the learning curve. He follows rules well. He’s smart. Loquacious.” JB slid onto her desk again, giving me an incredible view of her stocking-clad legs, again .
“Lo-qua . . . huh?” I stuttered.
“Do you need a lesson, Mr. Angelo?”
I dragged my gaze from her legs to her face where a wicked smile gleamed.
“You can’t blame me for not concentrating when you’re sitting there looking like a sexy naughty teacher fantasy.”
“Oh.” Her red lips ovaled.
I still want my blowjob.
“Do you have one of those?” she asked.
“Huh?” Jesus Christ. I sounded like I needed to go back to school.
She swung her coltish legs and crossed them at the ankles. “Do you have a naughty teacher fantasy?”
“I do now.” My voice dropped to a deeper timbre.
She moved behind her desk and sat in the chair, hiding her legs from view. “Is this better?”
“No.” Because I could be under that desk right now, my face between her thighs, no one the wiser.
She drew her hair up and pinned it back in place with a shaky laugh. All I thought about doing was taking it down again and burying my face in the silky strands.
“Let’s get back to Jack, shall we?” she asked.
Probably a better idea than whipping out my cock and jacking off in front of her. I nodded.
For the remaining fifteen minutes, we played concerned dad and dedicated teacher.
Hot, hot teacher.
“Any questions?” JB asked at the end of our meeting.
I had a few. None of them were suitable for an elementary school classroom.
At the threshold of her room, I braced an arm against the door, looming over her. “I don’t think we should do that again.”
“The conference thing?”
I looked around to make sure we were alone before I said, “The fucking thing.”
“I see.”
I cupped her chin in my hand. “No, you don’t. I’m no good but I’m doing my best, which is hard enough on any given day. You’re my son’s teacher. He likes you a lot. Hell, I like you a lot.” I released her and shook my head at the floor. “I got way too much baggage, and you look like you’re fresh out of
Front and center on Jack’s desk was a card addressed To my Daddy . On the cover was a blobby coloring of me—the giant of course—and him sporting the same wild black hair with a big red clown smile.
I picked up the card and opened it:
Besd things bout my famlee.
I read the paragraph inside, Jack’s misspelled words scrawled in huge looping letters, through a blur of sudden tears I blinked away. He named his favorite stuffed animals first. Then he wrote about how he liked making pancakes with Momma. The final sentence was about me, how I kept him safe, checking under the bed and in the closet at night before I tucked him in.
“He’s a good kid.” I cleared my throat and put the card in my pocket.
“Yes, he is.” JB smiled. “He’s wonderful to have in class. Helpful, bright, he does get distracted and socializes a bit too much sometimes, but they all do.”
I laughed. “Socializes? That a polite way to say he’s a motor mouth?”
Her sparkly laughter joined mine.
Jesus. I could see why Jack loved her. Funny and sweet and smart. And damn, she was so beautiful.
Feeling the need to explain the situation, I said, “We’re not together, his mom and me. Not married. We were never like that. I mean we love each other, more like friends now. Weren’t ever in love . . .”
“You don’t have to tell me anything, Hunter.”
“Considering what we got up to the other night, I think I do.” I scowled.
“And I think we should focus on Jack.”
Sighing, I sprawled in my chair, as much as I could anyway. “He loves your class. Can’t stop talking about you.” I knew the feeling. “He’s fitting in okay, isn’t he?”
“He’s fantastic. You and his mom must be doing a good job with him. He’s right on track with the learning curve. He follows rules well. He’s smart. Loquacious.” JB slid onto her desk again, giving me an incredible view of her stocking-clad legs, again .
“Lo-qua . . . huh?” I stuttered.
“Do you need a lesson, Mr. Angelo?”
I dragged my gaze from her legs to her face where a wicked smile gleamed.
“You can’t blame me for not concentrating when you’re sitting there looking like a sexy naughty teacher fantasy.”
“Oh.” Her red lips ovaled.
I still want my blowjob.
“Do you have one of those?” she asked.
“Huh?” Jesus Christ. I sounded like I needed to go back to school.
She swung her coltish legs and crossed them at the ankles. “Do you have a naughty teacher fantasy?”
“I do now.” My voice dropped to a deeper timbre.
She moved behind her desk and sat in the chair, hiding her legs from view. “Is this better?”
“No.” Because I could be under that desk right now, my face between her thighs, no one the wiser.
She drew her hair up and pinned it back in place with a shaky laugh. All I thought about doing was taking it down again and burying my face in the silky strands.
“Let’s get back to Jack, shall we?” she asked.
Probably a better idea than whipping out my cock and jacking off in front of her. I nodded.
For the remaining fifteen minutes, we played concerned dad and dedicated teacher.
Hot, hot teacher.
“Any questions?” JB asked at the end of our meeting.
I had a few. None of them were suitable for an elementary school classroom.
At the threshold of her room, I braced an arm against the door, looming over her. “I don’t think we should do that again.”
“The conference thing?”
I looked around to make sure we were alone before I said, “The fucking thing.”
“I see.”
I cupped her chin in my hand. “No, you don’t. I’m no good but I’m doing my best, which is hard enough on any given day. You’re my son’s teacher. He likes you a lot. Hell, I like you a lot.” I released her and shook my head at the floor. “I got way too much baggage, and you look like you’re fresh out of
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