Page 4 of Schooling Lucy (Off Limits #1)

L UCY

"What do you feel like for dinner, Dad? I can rustle up some Spag Bol?

" I thumbed out a text message on my phone, replying to my bestie back home.

I missed Dina a lot. I missed a lot of things about Koby Plains, too.

It was my home for eighteen years, and I never thought I would leave.

I had even planned on attending the local community college a few towns over, not wanting to be too far from my Dad.

Now...well, now the possibilities were endless.

I was settling into city living better than I expected.

I made a couple of friends and joined a book club.

I was also relieved to discover that small-town schooling didn't necessarily mean a smaller education, something I had been concerned about.

It only took me a few days to realize I was caught up. Ahead in some of the classes, actually.

"...so I was hoping you could make your usual chocolate cake. You know how much I love your cake, Pumpkin."

"Shi-shoot, Dad." I shoved my phone away. "I was texting Dina. What were you saying? You want me to make my chocolate cake?" I only made that for special occasions.

Dad straightened in his seat, his hands flexing against the steering wheel. "Dina?" His voice was hoarse. I frowned, wondering if he was coming down with something. "H-how," he cleared his throat and tried again. "How is she?"

I shrugged. "Fine. Busy with schoolwork. She has a date on Saturday. I think-"

"She's dating?" He shouted.

I reared my head as I observed my Dad and his weird behavior.

Dina and I had always been friends, but we became besties when we were ten.

She'd stayed over at my house just as often as I did at hers.

My Dad knew her well, so maybe he found it alarming that she was old enough to date.

It just reminded him that his daughter was also growing up.

Lord knows the number of lectures my Dad had given me about boys and drinking.

"Calm down, Dad. She's eighteen." I poked at his knee in jest. "Ya know, like me." My Dad only sent me a brief smile, barely moving his mouth.

"So what were you saying about-"

"Who's it with?"

"What?"

My Dad rolled his hand impatiently. "Dina. Who's her date with?"

"Oh, no," I shook my head in refusal and crossed my arms. "So you can go back and report to her mom? Hell, no. It's none of your business. You're not her father."

My Dad breathed in deeply before releasing it slowly through his nose. "No. I'm definitely not her father." His knuckles were white, clenching hard against the wheel before the tension seeped out as he turned into our street.

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my backpack on the floor. "You're being weird," I mumbled.

Once we pulled up to the house, I climbed out of the vehicle, glaring at my Dad when he slammed the door harder than necessary. He suddenly turned around and slapped his head. "I forgot to finish our conversation. Roman Drake, one of the teachers at the school, is coming over for dinner tonight."

"Wha-what? Mr. Drake, my chemistry teacher?" My mouth dropped as butterflies took flight in my stomach.

"Ah, shit," my Dad ran a hand through his dark hair. "I forgot he was your teacher. He approached me in the staff room and invited me for dinner since I was new to town. But I suggested he come here instead. That's why I set everything up so fast this week."

I licked my lips, my throat suddenly feeling dry. I attempted to act casually, but my heart was beating erratically, and my palms were sweating.

I hadn't been able to get Mr. Drake out of my head.

I only had Chemistry on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.

My body ached the last two days. The back of my neck stayed prickled, the fine hairs raised.

I could sense him near me. Which was silly; my classes were nowhere near the science block.

I also couldn't spot him during lunch breaks. Yet, I could feel him.

I shrugged, tugging my bag higher up my shoulder. "It's cool. I mean, I don't mind. I don't know him that well, anyway. So don't cancel," I quickly said, just in case he was planning to.

He smiled as he put his arm around my stiff shoulders. "Thanks, Pumpkin." He gave my head a quick kiss. "So, do you think you can make your chocolate cake? He'll be here at six-thirty. I was planning on cooking a roast chicken with veggies."

I fixed my Dad an overly bright smile. "Of course. I'll clean up and get right on it."

As I climbed the stairs, my body screamed to race up and find the perfect outfit. But I didn't want to arouse suspicion from my Dad. Instead, I leisurely took each step one at a time, humming a random tune under my breath.

La, la, la, la, la, nothing to see here. Definitely not becoming wet in my panties at the prospect of sitting across from my hot as fuck teacher, that may or may not have been flirting with me this week.

"Oh, Honey, and don't worry. You can take off after dinner. I'm sure the last thing you wanna do is hang out with a bunch of old guys."

I chortled loudly at his comment, slapping the banister. My Dad raised a brow at me in befuddlement over my strange reaction. The laughter quickly died in my throat.

Too much, Lucy.

I scrambled up the stairs before slamming my door shut and leaning against it, breathing hard.

A slow, calculating smile crossed my lips.

What was the perfect outfit to wear when you want your chem teacher - who was coming over for dinner - to lose his freakin' mind?

When the doorbell rang at six-thirty, I suddenly realized my plan was stupid. What the fuck was I thinking? Me? An eighteen-year-old virgin trying to seduce a thirty-something-year-old teacher from my school?

He was probably used to diverse, sophisticated, sexually experienced, and confident women.

A heavy rock sank in my gut as I picked at my flowy, pink shirt.

Initially, I had chosen a skimpy skirt with a low-cut top before I hurriedly took them off.

I completely forgot for a moment that I was also having dinner with my Dad.

He'd lose his shit if he saw his teenage daughter dressed like a street walker while his colleague was in the house.

It was inappropriate, I knew. And would rumble my plan. The plan, I now realized, was stupid.

I waited in the kitchen, sitting nervously at the table.

I alternated between twisting my fingers on my lap and drumming them on the table.

I heard voices at the door. The sound of my Dad greeting Mr. Drake and then a deep, husky laugh.

A few indiscernible words were spoken before they got increasingly louder.

"Oh, she's in here. She made her signature chocolate cake for dessert. You'll love it."

My eyes raised as the doorway filled with two bodies. They were even in height and standing side by side. But there was only one frame I was interested in. Only one person whose eyes drew me in like a magnet.

His dark eyes assessed me, flaring slightly as they dragged down my body.

Well, the part of my body that wasn't covered by the table.

His nose flared, and I knew, I just knew that his gaze had landed on my breasts.

I could feel my nipples pebble, and I shifted my thighs under the table, clenching my pussy against the moving friction.

I saw his chest breathe in deeply at my subtle movement. His throat worked, and his hands flexed beside him.

"Uh..." My Dad rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. "Lucy reminded me today that you're her teacher. Sorry if this is a little awkward."

Fuck. I had gotten so caught up in eye-fucking my fucking teacher that I forgot my Dad was literally standing beside him. Luckily he had mistaken our prolonged silence for something else.

Mr. Drake moved his heated stare from my breasts and raked them slowly up to search my face. He seemed in no hurry to placate my Dad with his notion that we were embarrassed. "Do you feel awkward, Lucy?" He drawled.

I licked my lips and gave him a small smile. "No," I softly said. I rose on shaky legs. "It's nice to see you, Mr Drake. I'm enjoying your class."

That, I was honest about. His voice was mesmerizing, yes.

And he was sexy as fuck; especially when he started to passionately explain hydrogen bonding or kinetic-molecular theory.

He had a way of explaining his lectures by not dumbing them down but also teaching in layman's terms. He was strict with no-nonsense, but he was also patient, especially with those who weren't quite getting it.

"I'm enjoying having you, Lucy," he drawled.

Again, how he phrased it sounded dirty, just like when he asked me if I was his good girl.

I wiped my hands on my jeans and moved around the table to greet him. I held out my hand for a shake, attempting to appear grown-up.

His eyes dropped down to my hand before cascading slowly down the rest of my body. My groin heated with need; his eyes felt like a gentle caress, a slow kiss against my skin.

His big hand engulfed mine. Tingles shot up my arm, and my breathing labored.

Instead of shaking my hand, he squeezed it gently for a lingering moment.

He slid his hand, unhurriedly, from mine as if he was savoring my touch for as long as possible before just our tips brushed each other, then gradually separated.

"Dinner's almost ready," my Dad said. "Did you want to -"

"Bathroom," Mr. Drake hastily interrupted. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, may I use the bathroom? To wash up."

"Oh, yeah, of course. Use the one upstairs. We still have a lot of boxes in the downstairs bathroom."

Mr. Drake nodded at my Dad in thanks. He glanced at me again before leaving the room and heading upstairs.

"See." Dad clasped me on the shoulders, giving me an affectionate squeeze. "It's not so bad."

My damp panties said otherwise.

I needed to keep busy, to stop myself from rushing up to my room and masturbating with my hairbrush to dirty thoughts of my teacher. I just had to get through this dinner; then I could escape and stuff my fingers up my cunt to the sound of his voice carrying up the stairs.

Needing a distraction, I went to check the timer on my phone to see how long I had until the cake was ready.

My phone wasn't where I thought it was before I realized I had left it upstairs.

I had taken a call from Dina and hurried off to my room for privacy when my Dad stood there, glaring at the phone. He was definitely being weird lately.

I quietly and quickly sneaked into my room, not wanting Mr. Drake to hear me. I needed a little breather from him, time to collect my thoughts. To try and get over this uncomfortable crush.

I retrieved my phone and softly closed the door behind me.

It was then that I heard it.

A low male grunt came from the bathroom. My heart skipped a beat as I peeked down the hall, listening out for my Dad. But all I heard, in between the silence, was the sound of harsh breathing.

I tiptoed closer to the bathroom door. At first glance, it appeared closed. But now that the distance was eating up between my small steps, I could see a tiny gap.

I could also hear the unmistakable sound of flesh smacking.

No. It couldn't be .

Could it?

I opened the door wider, thankful it didn't creak. Although, I'm not sure the bent over, grunting male would notice if it did.

Because Mr. Drake was too busy beating off his cock to notice that his eighteen-year-old student was standing, opened-mouthed, at the ajar door.

Liquid heat seeped through my panties as I took in the sight of my first masturbating man. And what a man it was.

His hand grasped the white marble, his dark head bent, and his mouth was pulled back in a grimace.

His large hand surrounded his long, thick penis, pumping it up and down in a flurry of movements.

Soon, he threw his head back with a choked grunt, his hand moving to grasp the mirror before him.

"Lucy! Fuck, Lucy, take my come."

My mouth opened in a silent gasp, and my eyes widened in shock.

Did he -

Did he just say what I think he did?

As if I had spoken those words out loud, I heard him grunt my name again as he spilled his come into the very sink I brushed my teeth at.

I could hear the wetness of his release and saw the ropes of white come jut out of the mushroomed tip. His hand movements finally slowed as his come trickled out to nothing.

The finishing movements snapped me out of my stupor, and I hurriedly pulled away from the door.

With my heart in my throat, I scurried down the stairs. Away from my masturbating teacher.