5

Still tongue-tied and at a loss with the turn of events, Principal Churchill brooked no room for protests as she continued, her demeanor morphing from the soft-spoken lady of two seconds to her usually authoritative, demeaning persona. “This little tiff is not to leave the walls of this room under any circumstances. Do you understand, Mr Cartwright?” She thrusted the cheque at me, face taut with annoyance. “If you have any objections to all I've said, you can tell me. Or rather, tell us. You're too silent for Christssake. You're a man, not a dumb.”

What in fuck's sake does the witch expect me to say? What does she want from me? Here she was, practically begging me to save her son's reputation and yet, she was still gutsy enough to force me to it by paying me off like I'm some goon who'd gotten his hands dirty for her. It was most ridiculous!

Her hate for me was so stifling, it made me mad! Was it my fault, that, I wasn't born into a wealthy, well-to-do family? Was it my fault that we weren't vastly known in little Todos Santos because we didn't originally belong there, and that we were poorer than peasants? Was it my fault I was an underprivileged outsider, contaminated and mortal with wretched parents?

“I appreciate the levity with which you handled this,” I finally found my voice, not sparing a glance at Ryan or minding his possessive hand clamped down hard around my thighs. In any case, if it was meant as any consolation, the last person I needed it from was him, being a Churchill. “Thanks, ma'am.”

She let out a heavy breath and recoiled from the cheque which had fallen on the table, in front of me. Despite my reservations and her ill-mannerisms, I picked the cheque up and flattened it. A fifteen-thousand dollar cheque. Way more than necessary. Bribe.

It wasn't todayay corruption began, but a long way back. It made me a lot less remorseful doing all those dirty things with her son in the parking lot yesterday.

Ryan was doing this for something. Hell, he was baiting me. I wondered if it was related to his request to me yesterday.

While, I was blackmailing his mother. Sorta. Kinda. Zilch.

My nonna always warned me of money's sly ways. How evil was deeply rooted in that mere paper and how it made people twisted. I used to think she was just making a fuss out of nothing. Money was always needed and that's why people do the things they do. Now, I was starting to think she was oh-so right.

And goodness knew we needed that money, in any case to save ourselves from a homelessness situation and get Dad his normal drug prescriptions. The responsibilities of the family all fell on me and at this point, I didn't mind stooping to any new low to get some cash.

I stood up sharply, though with tired muscles from sitting in one place for long, and smothered my tie, jutting out my chin. I wasn't about to let her think she'd won me over by just a few thousand bucks hence why I fixed her a fierce, analytical stare, noting her hesitancy. With each new day, my respect for this woman diminished, and to think it was all her fault.

“So, we're all good, heh?” She tugged at her ear as she held my gaze, seemingly holding back her breath. “You're not gonna file any case against him?”

“No,” I said curtly, walking out of her office with a solid $15,000. I was tons richer.

And what's new? I drove straight home and settled the pesky landlord who looked aghast at how much advance I was offering. I paid the rent for the next year and even bought him a drink. See that thing about money changing people, Nonna was right. I witnessed the transformation firsthand that day with the landlord all because I was generous enough to part ways with a few hundred bucks apart from the rent. Dad was the only one who asked me where I got the money from and I had to lie to him. How do you tell your father that you technically blackmailed his employer through her son who wanted a lot more than meets the eye?

— — — — —

To my consternation and utter delight, I found out while stalking his F******k account the next day after school had long dismissed that Ryan Churchill had celebrated his nineteen-year-old birthday in a grand style four days prior to the parking lot incident, which left me with no clue whatsoever. I couldn't place thought to the Genesis of this whole new infatuation he had with me, having never met him before then. Could he be working for someone close, my gay high school sweetheart perhaps? But Chance was married and happy with Royce, and I heard from a reliable source that the two men were expecting a pair of twins from surrogacy in the near future. Yay for them.

And even if Chance wasn't married and Ryan was working for him, why would Chance want anything more to do with me? We weren't exactly dating back at high school either. More like a fuckbuddy relationship that had existed between us.

And what's more,his timeline was a cutting reminder that he was oh-so younger than me by three years. Now, I don't know about anyone else but age mattered a lot to me in relationships. I hated being the elder. It made things just so uncomfortable for me as a younger partner was frowned upon by society, and in gay relationships, the elder was condemned and branded a devil. Not that I cared a hoot what anybody else thought but I liked my partners safely a year or two older than me. It made me feel secure and things more fun.

Moreover, due to raging hormones, young partners were notorious for having multiple sexual partners, and with the rave of sexually transmitted diseases, I had to keep my pants up and stick to the safer part of the lot. With ladies. Being bisexual was a bliss.

But it felt wrong to my body, denying it the thing it most wanted to have a feel of Ryan's youthful cock and know if a Churchill could be all that perfect even in bed. Ryan had nothing to lose if he decided he wanted to fuck me. In any case, he'd always have dear Mummy Dearest to throw money about to keep his record stainless while I rot behind bars cause she was sure as hell telling everyone that I forced her darling son to sleep with me. We didn't make any sense, Ryan being all set and polished for NHL and me battling to keep my father's job with no solid future ahead.

I was too selfish to let him go. Besides, having her son fuck me, the imperfect little wimp whom she detested and saw as wretched would really be a glorious payback now, wouldn't it?

I was still deep in thought to not notice the tall silhouette slowly making it's way over. I only looked up when the figure scooted a chair back and pushed the dazzling mass of golden hair back before flashing me a lopsided smile that made my heart skip. I could make out that smile even in my dreams. It was that damn perfect.

“What in hell's name are you doing here?” I tried to feign annoyed, putting on a stern look in a bid to scare him off but it seemed to have a resultant effect as his smile only widened cockily.

“You sure do have a feisty temper, Mr. Samuel.”

“Right. And my bite is way worse than my bark. I wouldn't come too close if I were you.”

He licked his bottom lip ever so slowly, and I followed his movements like a lost puppy. “I like it when my prey tries to convince itself it's stronger. Makes it all interesting, don't you think?”

“Here's what I think, that staying away from me is probably going to be the best decision you've ever made in your youthful life. Nobody likes a failed man, and you'd be doing yourself a favor not chasing the likes of me. We only got acquainted yesterday.”

“I don't need to know you too well to know you're the one I want. The one I fucking want.” he snarled, his bright-green eyes darkening menacingly. When he saw how shaken I was by his outburst, he smiled, drew his legs up across the table so he was sitting with his waist in the air, and said with all the confidence an egotistical jerk could muster. “Mr. Samuel, this is going to happen.”

“Well, I'm lost by what you mean by this. ” I gestured between the two of us. “We're having nothing together. It's something much too shameful to even think about.”

Ha. Like that would convince him. It was like telling a snake to be nice and not swallow a rat you kept with it.

I promised myself that after today, I'd take a hard look at my life and try to find out where it all went wrong. Maybe I was cursed for pushing that girl off the slide at school in kindergarten or stealing my younger sister's toys when she was barely six months old.

Ryan took his legs off, pulled his chair close, and leaned forward on his elbows, his large arms spanning the entire desk. The devious twinkle in his eyes reminded me once again that his age was merely a figure. Hell, he'd probably banged more females than I'd ever kissed in my entire life.

“Is that what you want, for this not to happen is that what you really want?” he looked so laid back I'd die to have that type of peace of mind. That self-assurance that you could get away with just about anything. “You know you don't mean that.”

My eyes dropped to the dirty, worn-out leather watch I was wearing, as I struggled for a steady breath. I was nervous and oh-so fucking turned on. It was such a combination that had my stomach tightening in knots for two different reasons. “Why me? There are many other openly gay teachers here that they'd be happy to have your attention.”

Ryan suddenly became rigid, his stare potent enough to nip my neck in half as he crooned in a somewhat robotic voice. “Because,” he said slowly, his soft pink parting as he drank me in. “It's my wish to fuck a male teacher before I go play for NHL, and you Mr Samuel... you're the chosen one.”