Teach Me: Sinful Desires (3 page)

“I love you, damn it. Nothing about this is wrong.” She pointed a finger at the discarded invitation. “What’s wrong is you hiding your talent like some dirty little secret. Name a time you’ve done anything remotely daring like Rain?”

“That’s just it, damn it! They’re characters. Fiction. Fantasy. Sometimes things are best left between the pages of a book and not acted upon,” Destini said.

“Forget the book signing, okay. I get anonymity and all. How about something even better? How about you do something for you. Strictly selfish, completely ballsy, a last hoorah in the city before you slip into the burbs and become a teacher-bot? Something to free you… wait, just wait a second… here.” She dug deep in her wallet and removed a platinum business card with raised lettering. The sun from the café window caused it to gleam against the white tablecloth. Destini studied it.

“What is this?” Destini asked.

“My membership card for Club Ajani.”

“Naiya, what on earth are you doing going there?” Destini knew about the place because Naiya had moaned about trying to get in for over a year. Now she had a platinum card?

“I met the owner and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.” She winked then sipped her vodka.

“Why are you giving me this?”

Naiya shrugged. “I want you to go. One night. Just go and let your hair down. Do something for you. Then I can die happy.”

Destini sighed. She shook her head in disbelief.

“How can you write about a life you have never seen? Never explored?”

“The same way you can hide from a life that most people would dream of, like its some dirty little secret.” Destini said.

Naiya only smiled. “This isn’t about me. This is about you.”

There was some truth in Naiya’s words. How could she deny the natural high that came with writing the sexual liberation she claimed not to need? And why was she so afraid to partake in it?

When Destini began writing about Rain, she was just some bad girl she could throw up to different blog sites. She would often giggle at the responses over the scenes she wrote. It had become a pastime when Russell was away on one of his ‘trips’ or when the stress of molding young impressionable minds had left her numb.

“You’re considering it,” Naiya grinned, forking more salad.

“I really do have to go,” Destini said. She tried to rise. Naiya snatched her purse. She forced the VIP card down in the bag and closed it. She handed it over with a triumphant grin. “Make it Rain, girl! Make it Rain!”

Destini kissed her friend on the cheek and breezed out. Make it Rain indeed. She had no desire to release her inner freak. Whoever or whatever that would mean.

Three

He pushed her arms over her head. It was his turn to force submission.. She never even asked him his real name. Instead she called him slave. He forced his will on her a day ago and she intended to forget his aggression after the night. He was nothing to her, and somehow that turned her on. For now, he says it’s enough.

Rain flicked her tongue at him. She wanted him to go there. Prayed he would. His face came in slow, until her vision lost focus and her lids grew heavy. There was a static charge ignited by the brushing of their lips. It sent a current all the way to her throbbing core. She shivered.

“You like games… time for you to understand the danger in teasing a man like me.” His words were hot and steamy as his lips brushed across hers, his tongue slipped inside her mouth, thick yet smooth. She clenched her hands into fists, tightening his hold around her wrists. Thighs, carved of stone, forced hers apart so he could settle between them. His thickness rubbed against her, parting the lips of her vagina, revealing her sensitive clit. Her eyes rolled at the stimulation.

“Yeah, you like that? Don’t you? Admit it. Say it, Rain.”

Rain released a soft sigh of submission. She would give him nothing. The roles were reversed. It was a new game. And it was his idea. Why did she agree? Something about his eyes behind the mask made her compelled to do so. This time he had to take it. Hopefully, he’d do her with bone crushing force and prove himself to be the man he boasted of when he proposed this scene. He released her hands and his lips brushed under her chin to the small “V” at the base of her neck, over her supple skin, and even lower. Much lower. She arched into it. The dark points of her nipples arrowed north... He smelled of sex and smoky Bourbon. Rain groaned.

His lips met their target, his lust so strong he nearly bit into her tender flesh. He would take her, but where should he begin? Such supple tenderness beneath him, his animalistic desires began to cloud his judgment. One part of him didn’t want to hurt her, the other half wanted to devour her. His hesitation as he warred with himself was a mistake.

Rain shoved him, hard. He bounded backwards, and she shot up, her eyes ablaze with anger.

“To hell with this… you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Stunned, he watched her rise from the bed. She searched for her things, cursing under her breath. She was leaving. She wasn’t a submissive. But for a brief moment he saw it in her eyes her desire to be. He couldn’t let her go. He’d worked to hard to gain her trust. And she still didn’t know his true identity. Damn it he couldn’t let it end this way. He was her junkie, and he needed this fix. “Rain…wait, damn it. Get back here. Now.”

She ignored him. Her long, black-polished fingernails struggled with the back clasp of her bra. Charged by something he couldn’t name, he leapt from the bed, grabbing her by the long dreadlocks that cascaded to the middle of her back. Rain hissed but made no move to resist. As he turned her back to the bed, the bra slipped from her shoulders, then down her arms and dropped away. With hands full of her dark thick locks, he spoke through gritted teeth into her ear.

“I know what to do with it, darling, and I plan to show you,” he said.

He pushed his foot between her legs, kicked her feet apart, and shoved her face-first into the bed. She laughed, and it enraged and excited him. Soon she’d be singing a different tune. His hand palmed her wet, sticky vagina, finding her ready. He wanted to bury his tongue in her snatch, and feast. But first, her submission had to be complete. Licking his palm, he wet his cock with one hand and grabbed her hip with another. It was as if she knew his intention and did nothing to shy away from it. Instead, she rolled her hips, tempting him in slow circular motions. She tossed her thick locks, and teased him with a challenging stare over her shoulder.

He slapped the side of her ass hard, the sting radiating warmth through his palm. She groaned. “No, Rain, the pussy is mine. So is… aw yea… this!” He thrust and forced a startled cry to escape her as he plunged deep into her. The tightness nearly dropped him to his knees. Rain, too, buckled.

Shooting his hips forward, he went balls deep and Rain held firm. Too many torturous nights with her and she never granted him the pleasure. Maybe he should confess. Reveal who he really is. Though every muscle in her body tensed, her weakness for him was evident in the way she now groaned with pleasure. Her back dipped. He pressed down on the back of her head, once again forcing her face into the mattress, stifling her cries of pleasure and torture as he pounded mercilessly into her ass. Eventually, she dropped under the force and he went with her. She accepted him working in and out until muscles she rarely used stretched and obeyed. His cock, jerked, it sent contractions through his pelvis. He nearly exploded twice.

He heard her whimpers, her pleas, her grunts, and felt her thrashing, but he beat into her ass with such a fierce need that his mouth watered. He spared her no relief. Spared himself none. His balls were soothed by the sweet feel of her slippery, clenching channel. Damn, she was coming. Her wet heat turned him inside out into a wild man.

And when he feared he’d gone too far, he forced himself to ease back, stroking her pussy in a more controlled rhythm. She mewed like a good little kitten and rode the deepest wave of pleasure with him…

It was time to tell her who he really was.

The bell blast of a ringing phone shattered her concentration.

“Naiya, this better be good,” Destini snatched up the phone and hissed into the receiver.

“Naiya? You two still friends? Never understood that one,” a smooth, deep voice chuckled through the line.

“Russell?”

“I saw you today, Flower Girl.”

Destini removed her glasses, slowly. Her heart sank, and her throat went dry. She was sure he hadn’t seen her. She was positive her little duck and dodge mission between oleanders and birds of paradise went unnoticed. Now she shuddered with silent humiliation. “I uhm, I was in a hurry.”

Laughter, soft but teasing, filled the receiver and burned the outer shell of her ear.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To see you,” he said in a deeper voice.

“No.”

“Why? Someone there in my place?” he asked.

“No,” she said too quickly. She slapped her forehead with her open palm, she sighed. “I don’t want to see you because I’m not interested.”

“Mmm… what are you doing?” he asked.

“That’s none of your––”

“Writing? Tucking those little wicked desires safely into that computer? I’ve been on your blogs. Read some of your latest.”

“How did you––”

“I always knew about your writing, Destini; we lived together, remember?”

He never said anything before and had never inquired about her writing. Not once. Pretty much ignored it. Not only did he know but he read her stories.
Shit! Shit!
She loathed and loved him still. She hated herself for it.

“Destini, we never––”

“Look. I don’t have time for this. It’s over. I told you not to call, and I meant it,” she said firmly, with her spine straight and her backbone intact.

“Let’s face it. Things with us aren’t over. But I’ll give you the space you asked for. Oh yeah, and I’d like to meet
Rain
someday. I have a strong idea of who her mystery man is.”

The line clicked off. She had no chance for a come back. Well she did, but as usual she didn’t take it. Now the moment was gone, and she’d twist over the phone call for the rest of the week with all the things she should have said to the bastard.

“Damn it!” She threw the phone to the side.

Face it, Destini, you know more than you ever let on with Russell. Rain didn’t come from thin air, baby. That pencil-cock-mean-jerk never deserved you. The question, Destini, is who does? And when do you plan on finding him?

“I’m going crazy,” she mumbled. She slammed the lid to the laptop shut. She tossed it aside and pushed up from her seat on the sofa. Every light in her place was off except for the candles she lit in the fireplace. In the darkness, she hugged herself. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the shelves, not a picture frame off center, no clutter, and no excess. Everything in order. Her life
was
in order, like the rules that she strictly obeyed as the good obedient daughter, sister, friend, ex-lover. And none of it was real.

It was hard to get Russell out of her mind. His cool arrogance, his lack of care for her feelings, should have freed her long ago. After all, she was a good girlfriend; she did as she thought he wished.

Now Russell was calling, Naiya was meddling, and soon her mother and father would be adding pressure for her to marry and be the good wife. They would want her to become a broodmare to a faithful husband.

Destini shook off the chill and headed through her place to her bedroom. She closed her hand over the cool enamel of the doorknob and pulled it open. It was sudden, the chill that moved through her. The cool emptiness of her bed was the source. Silent loneliness awaited her. There was no one to share her desires or passions. She forced herself to look away. Her chest burned with the urge to cry. She would not. Not a tear. She had nothing to cry over. This was what she wanted. There was nothing wrong with her life.

Still, you want more, don’t you? Who can survive only in her head, in her fantasies alone? Not you, Destini. There’s someone out there who will understand you. You just have to make the first move.

Destini’s gaze shifted toward the closet. She stared at the shadowed definition of her conservative skirts and slacks, each one with a matching jacket and muted-colored blouses or sweaters. When she went inside her ‘boring closet’ and flipped on the light, she took a long hard look at her life. At
herself
. She could see her students nodding obediently as she reminded them of their studies. She felt the pleasure of teaching, of stretching their minds to learn more. She felt and knew that she was doing something important.

Running her fingers over the threads of a skirt, her hand stopped. After the breakup with Russell, she and Naiya went on a shopping spree. Her friend forced her to buy a party dress. She pulled out the sinful black thing and held it out. Of course she’d never worn it. It wasn’t her.

But Rain would.

Four

“Ms. Sanders?”

Destini turned from the blackboard, stirring up a cloud of yellow chalk dust that dissipated in the air around her. The school principal stood at the door, hands in his pockets and his blazer parted to reveal the crisp white starched shirt stretched over his broad chest. How long had he been standing there, she wondered?

He was watching her again.

“Yes, Mr. Carson? What can I do for you?” she asked. She placed the eraser down and dusted off her hands. A thin yellow mist of chalk swirled, tickled her nose hairs. She suppressed the immediate urge to sneeze. Waving it away, she gave him another polite smile. Her gaze never left his as he entered her classroom.

He was classically handsome in a suit cut from too-expensive fabric on an educator’s salary. Bryrce Carson was thirty-four and six-foot-two of sheer male. His hair was thick. The deepest shade of black. And he had the clearest green eyes under long lashes she’d ever seen on a man. He appeared as immaculate as the school under his jurisdiction. Not a chair out of place, not a stray book to be found. She admired his orderly nature, his discipline. Every teacher, student, aide, or janitorial staff member knew that Principal Carson expected high performance and they adhered accordingly.