The Principal's Office (20 page)

On Saturday night, he drove past Rachel’s house. It was dark. If she was out, she hadn’t even left the front porch light on; he’d have to give her a lecture on safety issues. He wasn’t about to give up, though, and parked several houses down due to her hypersensitivity about anyone guessing they had a relationship. The street was full of cars; his wouldn’t be noticed.

The lawn sloped up sharply from the road, the house on the rise of a hill, the main floor a level higher than the garage. From the driveway, he climbed the path, wide concrete steps bordered by overgrown bushes that had lost their shape. He was hidden from the street as the walkway turned and the steps narrowed, becoming steeper as they led to the porch. A large juniper obscured the view of the front porch from the road. It needed trimming,
too. Another safety issue. Anyone could be hiding up here, ready to jump her when she went for the front door. He glanced at the lighted dial of his watch. He wondered where she’d gone and how long she’d be, but he’d wait as long as necessary.

In only a few minutes, headlights flashed across the front lawn, then the bushes. She was home, yet nothing happened for long moments. Finally the minivan’s door slammed, and soft-soled shoes scuffed the concrete path.

She was exceptionally sexy in the tight jeans he liked and a fitted top beneath a short-waisted sweater. Rummaging in her purse for her keys, she didn’t notice him in the shadow of the juniper. Finally pulling the key ring out, she opened the screen, holding it with her foot as she unlocked the front door.

She still hadn’t seen him. She was completely vulnerable to anyone hiding on the porch. Didn’t she even sense the danger around her?

His heart began to race; a plan formed, so quickly he didn’t have time to analyze the judiciousness of it. He saw only how perfect the opportunity was to make the fantasy they’d shared become reality. And an object lesson in personal safety.

He waited until she’d shoved open the door, then followed her, pushing her into the house and kicking the door shut behind him. He heard the screen slam.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Don’t turn. And I won’t hurt you.”

“DON’T MOVE. DON’T TURN
.”

Rachel froze, her heart stopped, her skin chilled. She hadn’t even heard him behind her, but now he was in her house.

“And I won’t hurt you.”

She caught her breath. Oh God. That voice. She should have
been terrified. She should have turned and slapped him for scaring the crap out of her.

Instead, she held her purse out to the side. “You can have my money. Just leave me alone.”

Her pulse beat loudly in her eardrums, yet she could hear him breathe, make out the rustle of his clothing as he reached for the bag.

He took it, dropped it. “Money’s not what I want.”

She swallowed. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He stepped up close behind her, touching her with nothing but his body heat. “This won’t hurt. You’re going to like it.”

She knew it was him, but she let it be real, let her heart pound with fright. “What are you going to do?” Even her voice trembled.

She still had her arm out, as if she were to afraid to put it down once he’d taken her purse. He reached under her sweater, trailed his fingers up her torso to the underside of her breast.

“I’m just going to touch you,” he murmured. His breath was sweet with a mint, warm against her cheek.

“My husband will be home soon.”

“Don’t lie,” he said. “I’ve been watching you. Your
ex
,” he emphasized, “doesn’t live here anymore.” He pinched her nipple hard, perhaps in punishment for the lie.

She felt her knees go weak with desire. “Please, just take the money and go.”

He moved up flush against her, his cock hard along the base of her spine. “I’ll take the money later. First, we’re going to play a little game.”

Her breath hitched as she inhaled. “What game?”

“It’s like strip poker, except we don’t use cards, and you always lose and have to take off another piece of clothing for me.”

“Please,” she whimpered, but her panties were damp.

“First your shoes.”

“I—”

He put his hand over her mouth. “Just do it.”

She wriggled and wobbled, toeing off both tennis shoes.

“Now the sweater.” His mouth at her ear, he licked her.

She shivered, trapped the sensual moan inside, and instead sniffed as if she were terrified. Then she pulled the sweater down her arms. He grabbed it before she was done, yanked it off and threw it to the entry floor.

“The T-shirt,” he ordered.

She pulled it over her head, and the chill of the house did nothing to cool her flesh.

“Look at that pretty bra,” he murmured, reaching across her to trace the lace over the swell of her breast. Beneath the cup, her nipple pearled.

Then he finger-walked down her bare belly to her belt buckle and pulled it free. His fingers rested a moment at her waistband. “Unzip the jeans.”

She sniffed again, whimpered, and moved slightly away from him as if she were getting ready to unzip and peel off her pants. He let her. In the next instant, she elbowed him hard in the ribs.

He hadn’t said the game couldn’t work against him.

Grunting, he stumbled back, and Rachel took off. If she could get to her bedroom, she could lock the door and grab the phone on the nightstand.

“Bitch,” he growled, and he wasn’t as far behind her as she’d thought.

She made it to her room, slammed the door.

His foot was in the way.

He sent her flying as he shoved it open. She landed on her ass by the foot of the bed. Rolling, she crawled toward the nightstand and the phone, but then he was on her, pinning her to the carpet.

“That wasn’t nice. I was going to be gentle, but now you’ve pissed me off.”

He grabbed her beneath the armpits, hauled her up, and tossed her across the bed as if she weighed nothing. In a flash, he flattened her against the mattress, then yanked her arms over her head and imprisoned her wrists in one big hand.

It was dark, his face in shadow, but she could smell him, that unique scent that was him and only him. Her body reacted, heating, liquefying.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said, low and lethal. “You can’t stop me. All you can do is take it and make it easier on yourself by not fighting me.” He insinuated a hand between their bellies and yanked on her zipper.

“Never,” she said between clenched teeth.

She bucked and rolled against him, trying to throw him off. It didn’t do a thing. One-handed, he tugged on her jeans, first one side, then the other, until they were over her hips, her panties coming off with them. Pulling up and off her, still holding her wrists, he shimmied the jeans down her thighs until they were loose and he could push them down the rest of the way with his foot. One sock stayed on, the other came off. She wore only her bra now as he flopped back down on her.

“Now, isn’t that better?” he whispered. Nuzzling her neck, he nipped her, then said, “You smell sweet. I’m going to make you feel so good.” Then he pushed his leg between hers, parting her thighs.

“No.” She struggled, kicked at his calves with her heels. It didn’t faze him one bit.

His hand touched her pussy, then his finger slipped between the folds. “Christ, look at that. You’re wet. I knew you wanted this.”

“Get off me,” she said, but God, how she wanted to arch into his touch, rub herself against him.

He pinned her to the bed with his upper body, raising his hips just enough to keep his finger on her clit, circling it, rubbing in
all her moisture, driving her mad. “Feel how hard that little clit is. You want this. You want to come.”

He held her legs immobile with his own, and she tossed her head on the bed because it was the only part of her body she could move. “Stop it, stop it,” she chanted at him.

He reared back, shoving a hand in his pocket. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

She could see his face, the taut lines, his eyes blazing. He’d have to put the condom on. He’d have to let her go. Yet still holding her wrists together, the foil packet in his teeth, he unzipped his jeans, pushed them down, and took out his cock.

The sight stole her breath. He was hard, the vein pulsing, his balls tight, the crown almost purple in the dim light from the outside streetlamps falling through the bedroom window. She wanted that cock. Her mouth watered for it. She wanted to beg. But there was the game to be played.

Though he was straddling her, he had to release her hands to tear open the condom and roll it on. Just as he was concentrating on the task, she bucked her hips and pushed. It was enough to pitch him to the side, and she was free. Up and running, she made it through the bedroom door.

He threw himself on her in the hall, slamming her face-first to the carpet. She lost her breath, and in the next moment, she felt him spread her legs, coming down between them.

“So this is how you want it,” he snarled. “Like a bitch under me.”

She thrust up, trying to throw him off. “Get away from me.”

But he put an arm beneath her, hauled her up to her hands and knees, then he was there, his cock hard, right at her pussy. His arm still tight across her belly, his shirt pressed to her back, his breath at her ear, he entered her fast and hard.

It was so good, she screamed with the pleasure of him inside after so many long days without him.

He covered her mouth with his hand. “Don’t make a sound, bitch, just take my cock.”

She fought not to match his rhythm, not to rock back into him, not to moan. Instead she whimpered and cried and begged him to stop.

“Don’t lie, you love it, you little slut.”

God help her, she did. She knew it was Rand, a game, a role play, but he was also the handsome stranger breaking into her home, setting her sexually free.

“Fuck, I love your pretty little cunt. I love how it feels, how it milks me, works me. Fuck, fuck.”

The dirty words, the compliments, his body, his voice, the game, it all turned her inside out. “Yes,” she whimpered.

“You love it, tell me.” He panted between the words.

She couldn’t resist him anymore. “Yes, yes, I love it. Fuck me, fuck me harder. Please, oh yes.” She closed her eyes, went blind with the pleasure. His cock, like steel, his body pounding. She clenched her fingers in the carpet and held on, pushed back, fucked him as hard as he fucked her. “Fuck, fuck,” she cried, loving the word, loving everything about this moment.

Then her orgasm ripped through her, and she screamed for him.

THEY LAY IN A HEAP ON THE HALL CARPET. RAND WAS SPENT, LOST
in the sensations that still pulsed through his body, in the feel of her against him. He caressed her breast with one hand, stroked her hard nipple.

She sighed.

Should they talk? Should he continue the game? He went for the role play, sliding his hand over her mouth.

“I’m going to leave now. Don’t call the police. Don’t tell anyone.” Then he lowered his lips to her ear, realizing he hadn’t even kissed her. “And remember that I can show up again at any time.
I can break in here and fuck the hell of your sweet little cunt whenever I want.”

She whimpered.

“You’re a fucking hot little number. Oh yeah, I’ll be back. Now, don’t move, don’t look, not until you hear the front door close.”

He pulled back, leaving her huddled on the carpet, naked and gorgeous in nothing but her lacy bra. He stole into the bathroom, wrapped the condom in a tissue and shoved it into the waste-basket.

She lay still where he’d left her, except that now she’d curled into a ball. He hoped he hadn’t given her knees rug burn.

Christ, it had been so fucking hot. He hoped she felt the same. At the end, she’d gone wild for him; she
had
to feel the same as he had.

After closing the front door softly behind him, he took the steps two at a time until he reached the turn down to the drive. He passed her minivan, then jogged along the street to his car.

He belted in, then sat for a long moment with the urge to rush back, ring her bell, beg her to let him back in, let him sleep with her in his arms. He waited until he’d stuffed the need back down, then started the car.

They’d just played a hot little sex game. The next move was hers.

HE SHOULDN’T HAVE SHOWN UP AT HER HOUSE. IT WAS A VIOLATION
of all the rules they’d made.

That’s what made it so damn hot. Rand was a rule breaker, even as Principal Torvik set his own rules. Rand said yes when she said no. He reeled her back in when she tried to swim away.

She was still wet. Her body still hummed. She lay on the carpet reliving each sensation, every word he’d said. Finally, her skin began to cool. She hadn’t even had a chance to turn on the heater, and the groceries were still out in the minivan. In the bedroom, she pulled on a pair of soft old sweats, then padded back down the hall. She emptied the trash in the main bathroom, just in case anyone accidentally saw the evidence of what
Mom
had been doing. She found her purse and keys in the front hall. Oh yes, she’d loved that momentary fright, the one that got her going before she knew it was him. In the kitchen, she went straight to the garage door and punched the opener attached to the wall. The remote hadn’t worked again, thank God for that. She’d
intended on coming inside to open the door, then pulling the minivan into the garage to retrieve the groceries.

As she did that now, she pondered the possibilities. How could he have planned it to such perfection? Or was it coincidence that he’d been there, an opportunity he’d jumped on? Maybe he’d been coming to see her, to beg her not to cut him off completely. Or maybe he was a stalker.

She put away the groceries. She’d planned to prepare some meals tomorrow to freeze for the week ahead. She wandered into the family room, stood for a moment, then went back to the kitchen, where she’d set her purse and cell phone on the table.

No, she shouldn’t.

In the end, she couldn’t resist and punched in his number. When he answered, she started crying. “Oh my God, Rand, oh my God.”

“Baby, what’s wrong? Tell me.”