Craving Mr. Kinky (The Mr. Wrong Series Book 4) Page 15

  Her tentative movements made her sexier than she already was. Little did she know how the camera was eating her up. Seven more clicks in rapid succession fired before her eyes met mine again. “Now your bra. Lower the right strap, letting it drape on your arm. I want your eyes to follow it.”

  Cassie didn’t know it, but she was a natural. The tilt of her head made her silky blond hair drape over her face, causing a curtain of intrigue. “Fucking perfect.” I moved around the room, capturing different angles. “Now the other side, then unhook it and let it drop.”

  Like a good student, Cassie followed directions. When her bra hit the top of her legs, exposing two flawless breasts with nipples so hard they could cut glass, I added, “Touch yourself. Caress your breasts like you’d want me to.”

  This time she didn’t hesitate or waver in her movements. Expecting her to be soft and gentle, my cock jerked when she aggressively tugged her nipples between her thumb and forefinger in a hard pinch. “Jesus Christ,” I hissed through gritted teeth. My finger held down the shutter button, not wanting to miss one second. But when Cassie took it upon herself to slide her right hand into her shorts, I went from instructor to witness.

  For the first time, the small square that brought images to life felt inconsequential. I abandoned my initial goal of capturing each sexy nuance that Cassie could offer. A smirk spread across those lips I craved when she looked at my tented shorts. Various retorts flew into my mind, but none made their way out of my mouth. And then she lifted her hand to lick her middle finger… game over. Fuck, I thought I had the upper hand in this little game, and with one look, one calculated move, she took control.

  She watched me place the camera down. Like a seductress, she said, “Is there a problem?”

  “Photoshoot is over.”

  She batted her lashes and said with a pout, “But I was just starting to get into it.” In the depths of her eyes, I knew that she knew she was playing with fire.

  “The only one getting into anything is me.” Leveling her with a pointed look, I stripped out of my clothes, moved onto the bed, and removed her shorts and panties with one swift tug. Once I had her naked, she tracked my path to the dresser, where I pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs. Seeing her breath accelerate caused a smug grin to spread on my face.

  “You okay with this?” I asked, holding them up and waiting for her consent.

  “More than.”

  “I knew you were a kinky girl. It’s time to kick it up a notch.” She remained silent until I had her properly restrained. And then, one by one, I ticked off all the things I said I would do to her a few minutes earlier. I sucked her swollen clit until she begged me to stop. I bit and nipped every part of her, marking her, owning her. I tormented by hand, tongue, and cock, having her come more times than she could count.

  The last thing I did was to plunge in slowly, making good on my promise to ruin her for all other men.

  Chapter 17

  Cassie

  With the school year well on its way, it was funny how quickly the days flew by when a sexy photographer demanded so many of them.

  I had spent most of my weekends with Dante… whom I couldn’t get enough of. He pushed my sexual palate to new heights. He raised the bar, created an appetite for more, and eliminated the word mundane from my vocabulary.

  It was easy to get lost in our hot relationship, but I needed to maintain some semblance of a routine during the week, or not only would my job suffer, my independence would. Of course, I was over the moon Dante wanted to spend as much time with me as he could.

  On my request, we had yet to officially come out as a couple. That meant a lot of our dates ended at his place or mine. Dante enjoyed teasing me over my naivety because he was sure we were only fooling ourselves.

  When the weekend came to an end, the same argument occurred when I insisted on sleeping in my own bed alone. The man didn’t understand that even though I only taught five-year-olds, my days started early, and my evenings ended the same way. For instance, I came in extra early to change the apples on my bulletin board to pumpkins in preparation for fall. That meant I was in bed last night by nine.

  My job meant everything to me. I wouldn’t change a thing. And as exciting as my personal life had suddenly become, I relished the familiarity of my weekday schedule.

  I was already in love with the kids in my class. Eleven little boys and ten little girls who would one day be our leaders and our voices, kids who would hopefully make a difference in the world.

  Some may think being a kindergarten teacher consisted of coloring in the lines and recess, but even though those things did exist, I did my best to include life lessons with everything we did. I had created a professional show-and-tell of sorts a few years back. Twice a month, one of the parents would come in to explain their job to the kids. It always made the kids’ day, taking them away from schoolwork for an hour or so, yet teaching them so much more than they learned in books.

  Today, Lianna’s dad, the firefighter, was our Career Champion. Firefighters were always a hit with kids. They’d get red hats and ask about driving in the big trucks and sliding down poles. It couldn’t have been planned better since rain was coming down in sheets, which prohibited enjoying the playground during recess.

  I grabbed my purse and bagged lunch from the bottom drawer of my desk before leading the kids to the cafeteria. Sounds of chatter and laughter, which warranted any and all lunch moderators to take a pain reliever before entering the room, filtered down the hallway. Thankful that I wasn’t one of them today, I waved to my class and went to the teachers’ lounge to relax for the next forty-five minutes.

  Bland yellow walls, plain wooden tables, and worn carpet didn’t boast of relaxation, but the serene quiet normally did. Except today, a few teacher’s aides were clamoring about a man they’d seen in the office.

  I’ve never seen anyone that looked like him before.

  Do you think he’s a new teacher? I wonder if he needs help setting up his classroom.

  I hope he’s single.

  I hope he isn’t a parent.

  Rather than eavesdrop or inquire about who they were talking about, I decided to sit by myself and enjoy my meal in peace. No sooner had I unfolded the brown paper bag when a page came over the loudspeaker. “Miss Brooks, please report to the office. Miss Brooks, please report to the office.”

  Shit. Now what? I tossed my chicken salad sandwich back into my bag and headed toward the office. A laugh I knew well filtered through the glass partition, and when I looked in, it was confirmed.

  Dante sexily leaned against the counter, speaking to Marjorie, the receptionist. Naturally, whatever he said caused the woman to blush. A pale-blue T-shirt molded over his physique, and darker circles from the raindrops made the color as deep a blue as the jeans he wore. In addition, the damp sexy waves of his ebony hair meant the man was too cool for an umbrella.

  I pulled open the door, his eyes landing on mine. A broad smile grew across his handsome face when he said, “Hello, Cassandra.” My heart thumped against the center of my ribcage at the way my name rolled off his tongue, and with it came reminders of all the filthy things he did to me.

  “Dante.” When all the women in the office stared at me, I felt obligated to return a smile while pretending my thoughts were G-rated. Tugging Dante by the arm until we were in the vestibule, I leaned in and whispered, “What are you doing here?” Unfazed by my discomfort, he bent down and kissed my lips. “Dante, I’m at school.”

  “Afraid you’re going to get detention?” His eyes focused on my mouth, and I instantly felt desire sparking to life in my lower half.

  “No, fired.”

  “For talking in the hall? It’s not like I dragged you into a storage closet to see what you have on under that short skirt. Speaking of, you look beautiful. I love when you wear skirts. It gives me easy access.” He wiggled his eyebrows, causing a deep blush to creep up from my breasts to my cheeks.

  It took about five seconds
for my brain to snap out of the fantasy his words conjured up in my mind. “Stop that,” I scolded, and the bastard chuckled. This man made me stupid whenever he spoke to me like that. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

  “I brought you lunch. I remembered last week you told me this was your lunch hour.” With a grin, he lifted a wax-coated paper bag from a place called Pasquale’s. “Did I get the time wrong?”

  “No, it’s perfect timing.” Suddenly, the name registered. “I love that place.” The moment I said that, the rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place. “Wait, that’s your uncle’s restaurant. I’ve been there with your brother. The food is amazing, and your uncle is adorable.”

  “Yes, good looks run in our family.” A huge flash preceded the clap of thunder that rattled the windows. “I was hoping to eat at one of the picnic tables, but seeing the weather isn’t cooperating, is there a place we can have lunch inside?”

  “My classroom. Let me get you signed in, and then we can head back.” The ogling commenced as Dante signed in and left his license with the office, and there was no doubt in my mind the ladies would be searching his name on social media as soon as we walked out.

  “Miss Brooks,” Marjorie said, stopping us before we left. “You just received a call from Mr. Maurice, Lianna’s father. He apologizes, but due to the storm he needs to stay at the firehouse.”

  “Ugh. Okay, thank you.”

  Dante opened the door for me. “Who’s Maurice?”

  “It’s Mr. Maurice, and he’s a student’s father who was going to talk to my class today about being a firefighter. It’s sort of a career show-and-tell that I like to have for them. But because the rain isn’t letting up, I’ll have twenty-one restless and disappointed five-year-olds who won’t even be able to go outside to fill the time.”

  “What if I came back and spoke to the kids? I’ll bring a camera and let them take pictures. Then I’ll have them printed, and you can give them their shots as a keepsake.”

  “Really? You would do that? Aren’t you busy?”

  “No, I’ll make it work. Just let me know what time to be here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Cassandra.”

  Once we were sharing my desk as a table, Dante and I enjoyed our meal. “This was a very nice surprise. Thank you for bringing me lunch. Ravioli was much better than what I had planned on,” I said, tossing my empty container in the trash.

  “My goal is to please you.”

  Please me. The man could no doubt achieve that. “I’ll have to remember that,” I teased.

  He reached for my hand under the desk and moved it to his thigh. “That goes both ways, Cassandra.”

  At that moment, a bell dinged, indicating lunch was just about over… thank God. Having Dante in my classroom wasn’t good for my blood pressure. “On that note, I need to get my class.” I stood and asked, “Can you find your way to the office?”

  “Yes,” he answered, coming to stand before me. “What time should I be back?”

  “Can you be here a few minutes before two?”

  “I sure can.”

  “Oh, and can you leave out the part where you photograph naked supermodels?”

  He pretended to ponder my request. “It could be a hit with the boys.” I shoved his chest and he grabbed my wrists. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he pulled me to him for a passionate kiss. Before I could protest, he broke the connection, winked, and walked away. “Bye, beautiful.”

  “Guess what today is?” I stood at my desk, meeting each pair of widened eyes. Hands flew up, and I called on Jody to answer.

  “Friday.”

  My giggle was automatic, forgetting five-year-olds took words literally. “Yes, it is Friday… but it’s also Career Champion Day.” Shouts and clapping erupted on cue. “Okay, everyone… settle down.” I couldn’t blame them for their excitement, which was the main reason I kept my news to myself until the last possible minute. I also always left strict instructions with the parents not to tell their children if they were scheduled to come to school. That lesson I learned the hard way. “In just a few minutes, we are going to have a photographer visiting us. Do you all know what a photographer does?”

  Again, hands shot up and waved in the air, trying to catch my attention. “William.”

  “They take pictures of babies.”

  “That’s right, but they also take pictures of adults, and places to visit, and even of animals and other things.” The sound of a firm knock had all their heads flipping in that direction. “Okay, kids. Remember, best behavior,” I said, as butterflies took flight in my stomach. With my back to my class, I allowed my genuine smile to spread once I opened the door for Dante. “Hi.”

  “Hey, beautiful,” he whispered. Giggling and chatter behind me forced my attention back to the class.

  “Boys and girls, this is Mr. Benedetto. Can you all say hello?” A chorus of Hi, Mr. Benedetto had Dante grinning as we made our way to the front of the classroom.

  “Hey, everyone. I’m so glad to be here.” His eyes landed on Andrew, who had his arm raised so high he needed his other hand to hold it up. “Yes, buddy?”

  “Whose dad are you?” I rolled my lips over my teeth when Dante’s eyes cut in my direction. Rather than save him, I took my chair, crossed my legs, and waited for what he would say. “Well… no one’s. I’m here as a special visitor of Miss Brooks.”

  Good answer.

  A few more random questions were asked, ones that had absolutely nothing to do with photography, until I intervened. “Mr. Benedetto, can you tell the class what your job entails?” I asked, communicating with my eyes to keep it clean.

  His full lips pulled to the side in a smirk. “Of course.” One by one, Dante pulled equipment out of his black bag, explaining each camera and its purpose. I watched with pride as he had the class captivated with stories of people and places he photographed. Every so often, he presented a large photo, maybe of a beautiful beach or a cute puppy playing in a park.

  For the next hour, the feelings I held toward Dante somehow morphed into something different. Until then, most of my emotions were passionate. But this Dante, the funny, kind, charming man who had twenty-one five-year-olds riveted, managed to have my heart melting with a newfound appreciation.

  The five-minute dismissal warning bell sounded, and my students grumbled. Never had that happened in my career.

  “You guys need to go, but if it’s okay with Miss Brooks, I’ll come back again.”

  Like I could say no after all the pleading and begging that his statement instigated. “Yes, that would be great. Thank you, Mr. Benedetto.” I stood and announced it was time to begin our end-of-day routine.

  As the kids retrieved their backpacks and lunch boxes from their labeled cubicles, Dante came closer and asked, “I hope I didn’t overstep by offering that.”

  “Not at all. I’m a bit surprised you want to come back.”

  “Why? They loved me,” he touted with a proud smile.

  “Yes, they did.” And that was an understatement. Just one hour in, they most definitely fell in love with him. Then there I was, a month after meeting him and going from dislike to what started to feel like love… if that was even possible.

  At first falling in love with Dante seemed unlikely. Mainly because men like him didn’t fit into the fairy tale. But today, he took that theory and turned it upside down, negating everything I thought he wasn’t. Today, Mr. Benedetto saved the day, and he became my knight in shining armor.

  The second bell sounded. “I need to get them to their rides.”

  “Can I wait here?”

  “Sure, I’ll be right back.”

  Like ducks in a row, my class waved to him as they filed out. We then all followed the green line painted on the floor that led to the front doors of the school. Once I made sure each of my students was with their designated transportation, I headed inside.

  I walked a bit quicker than normal to get back to where I kne
w Dante was—and also to avoid any questions from the busybodies in the office. I could only imagine what ran through their heads.

  When I walked into my room, Dante sat at my desk as if he belonged there. He flipped through the spelling sheets the kids turned in before they went to lunch. I didn’t say anything right away, amused as he picked up a red pen to do my job.

  “Playing teacher, Mr. Benedetto?” I leaned my hip against the edge of my desk. That devilish up-to-no-good expression of his spread, but he didn’t look up. After a few more checkmarks, and a star drawn at the top of one of the papers, he finally acknowledged my presence.

  “Bobby needs to work on his spelling.”

  I shook my head. “Bobby is dyslexic.”

  Dante’s face paled. “Oh, sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t correct your papers.”

  “I’m kidding. He’s not a very good speller, but he’s also four. His birthday is next week.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  I laughed with a shrug. “So, did you have fun today?”

  “I did. They’re great kids. You’re very good with them.” He got up and stood in front of me. “But now that we’re alone, all I can think of is bending you over this desk, hiking up that sexy skirt you’re wearing, and fucking you.”

  A gasp flew from my mouth. “Dante.”

  “What?”

  “First off, that would never happen. Second, that’s now an image I won’t soon forget.”

  “It wouldn’t happen here. I can get a nice wooden desk for my apartment, complete with dings and dents,” he said, closing the gap between us.

  “Ahem.” I snapped my head up to find Thomas standing in my doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  Instinctively, I tried to put space between myself and Dante, who was now standing spine straight while glaring at Thomas.

  “You’re not interrupting” came out of my mouth, high and pitchy.

  “Yes, he is,” Dante grumbled before tossing his arm around my shoulders. I looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “Just kidding.”