"What am I going to do with you?" He asks gently.
I look at him as he says it, I didn't think he'd be capable of sounding so angelic and completely irresistible. I couldn't wait to be in the woods with him, even if I'm just there to clean. The open space will only make it easier to get him alone.
I feel an urge to connect our lips but the way his gaze flickers over my lips makes me frozen to the spot. The girls back home would have laughed if they saw me like this, under the complete control of him. Not that it's something to be embarrassed about, they'd just recall all the times I told them that no man would ever make me feel this way. I was terribly wrong.
His hands are wrapped around my wrists down by my waist in a gentle grip. He gives me a gentle squeeze and a small smile before he pulls away from me.
"Tease." I mutter under my breath.
If he heard me, he doesn't indicate it. "Come here."
I obligate as I near him, he sits in his comfy looking chair. "Write 'I will follow the rules, Sir' on the board fifty times." He demands, handing me an erasable marker.
"Fifty?" I question in disbelief.
"It's either that or fifty spanks. Your choice." He tells me with a shrug of his shoulders. He turns over to his work and begins scribbling something down in his planner.
Fifty spanks? I could barely take thirty, plus the embarrassment would make it worse. I groan with anger as I begin writing the sentence down.
I consider walking over and placing my lips on his neck but decide against it for now. By the time I wrote the sentence ten times the sentence looks weird, the word Sir doesn't even seem like a word anymore. Nonetheless, I continue writing.
"Sir, my arm hurts." I whine as I look at him with a slight pout. His gaze flickers to me and then he turns to the board.
"You've written it twenty-three times, how could you be tired?" He questions. I probably shouldn't have numbered the sentences, it looks way more than twenty-three.
"I just am."
He doesn't seem to appreciate my tone. "Just write 'Sorry, Sir' instead."
I groan but begin writing anyways.
I feel weak because of how attracted I am to him, what started all of this anyways? Who made the first move? I think back to my first day and how he had me bent over the table but that isn't what started it. That was just a punishment, he wasn't making a move on me. I remember kissing him in his class, sure I was the one to connect our lips but he allowed it. I was trying to leave and he kept me back. Why did he kiss me back?
As I get lost in my thoughts, I dropped the marker. Mr. Howell heard the clatter of the marker on the floor and looks at me. I quickly retrieve it and pause, studying him,
"Sir, can I ask you a question?"
He looks at me with a bit confusion but nods anyways. "Why did you kiss me if you were just going to push me away?"
Silence.
He doesn't answer me he only sighs. I step a bit closer to him and wait for an answer but it's clear he doesn't have one.
"Just finish writing the sentences." He dismisses me quickly.
"No, you have to answer me." I protest. He closes his eyes briefly, exhaling.
"You are dismissed." He points to the door.
"You can't just-" I argue with him but he silences me.
"I don't know the answer, Omera. Just...go." He looks so frustrated as he looks at my features. I don't want to cause him stress right now but I vow to come back for an answer later.
"Whatever." I scoff as I leave the classroom.
