Page 55 of Becoming His

Bailey watched me, confusion on his face.

“You were late this morning? How did you get in? I should’ve driven you; I’m sorry.”

I gulped then, wondering whether I would lie to him for the first time when I decided not to acknowledge it.

“So when I got to school, I heard someone in the closet, in the language building.” My voice dropped, and he continued to listen, not moving at all. “So then Mr. Herbert came out.” For the first time, his eyes widened.

“What?”

“Yeah..and I heard noises. Before he came out.”

He raised his eyebrows as he tilted his head to the side.

“What sort of noises? For fucks sake, will you spit this out? I’m on edge.”

“It was Elena,” I whispered as he moved his head back, his mouth opening in shock.

“What?”

“Stop saying what.”

“The fuck?” He blinked as he ran his hand through his hair, worry in his eyes. Again, I felt a stab of jealousy as I wondered if he was concerned for her, despite me knowing that was entirely appropriate.

“Are you sure- that’s a serious allegation to make, babe,” he said softly, his voice low.

“He kept her after class. After History, for being late.” I informed him as he stood upright, unlocking the door swiftly and pulling me out behind him.

“Bailey!” I hissed, trying to pull my hand away from his to no avail. He headed out of the building, pulling me down beneath the windows. He held his fingers to his lips as he pointed toward the classroom window. My eyes bulged as he slid his phone out, unlocking the screen quickly before turning it to video mode.

“Bailey, oh my god, you can’t,” I begged as my eyes tore around the courtyard, terrified someone would catch us, videoing any kind of sexual activity. I’m not going to prison for being a peeping tom, for fucks sake.

Bailey grimaced as he stretched his arms as high as they would, the camera aimed in the window. I didn’t dare breathe as his eyes met mine before glancing back up to the window. He must’ve videoed for two to three minutes, my hands gripping his arm, my nails digging into his flesh.

“Ouch, can you get your nails out of my arm? Save it for the bedroom,” he muttered as he pulled the phone back to him, his fingers swiping at the screen until he found what he wanted, pulling the screen closer, peering at it intently.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Twenty-Six

Proof

We sat in his car, my lungs threatening to explode as I tried to catch my breath; I put my head back against the headrest.

He swore as he turned to look at me, not an ounce of sweat on him, his breathing regular as I gaped at him.

“Are you even human? I’m dying.” I gasped as he snorted, shaking his head.

“Babe, I have to run faster than that about three times a day, for a lot longer than that,” he smirked, and my eyes fell on his phone.

“Can I see it?”

He casually held it out between his forefinger and thumb and sighed.

“I can’t fucking believe it. I thought maybe you had it wrong.”

He shook his head and stared out the window as I pressed play on the video. It was shaky, but suddenly I saw Elena sitting on the teacher’s desk, her legs wrapped around Mr. Herbert as he kissed her deeply. There was no mistaking that they were involved sexually as she began to loosen his belt, her fingers expertly opening the zipper on his jeans with her other hand.

“She’s an expert,” I muttered as Bailey stroked my face.