All Chapters of The Teacher's Obsession: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

-Mr. Grumpy: Standards? You mean Connor? Funny. -Mr. Grumpy: I will have you turned on within 2 minutes when I have you alone next time. You'll be begging for more. My stomach clenches at his words. Why does he say things like that? It’s so unfair.-Norali: Are you having fantasies now? -Mr. Grumpy: About you? -Mr. Grumpy: I’ll tell you if you tell me what happened on Tuesday.I knew he had heard Mason. Nosy man.“Hey, remember we’re visiting Mom tomorrow, right?” Mason asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. I carefully set my phone down on the table. “Yeah,” I whisper, feeling a serious weight settle in.“Come on, you’ve got plenty to tell her,” Mason nudges me, trying to lighten the mood.I smile softly, though the sadness behind it is undeniable. “I’m going to tell her how annoying you’ve been,” I joke back, but we both know there’s more beneath it. Mason’s smile mirrors my own—sad and understanding.“She’d probably tell you off for that,” he says. “Everyone knows the youngest is

"We're going to my house," I tell Charlene as I unlock my Porsche. "Your house? But we never go to yours!" she responds, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Just get in," I snap, cutting off any further conversation. She climbs in beside me, and my eyes automatically drift to the passenger seat mirror, looking at the backseat. That’s where Norali sat last time. I hit the gas hard, making the car lurch forward with aggression. I don't release the pedal. "So, what's the occasion for going to your place? Something to celebrate?" she asks, her voice dropping seductively. She pulls her shirt a little bit lower, showing off more cleavage. The occasion? Maybe just the thought that someone might actually walk in. "When we get there, take off your clothes and wait on the couch," I order. She doesn’t say a word, just nods obediently. That’s Charlene—she never talks back. I feel her hand slide onto my thigh. "What about a little preview?" she whispers. I press the gas harder. How would h

"We need to do groceries after visiting Mom. We can do it together—there won’t be any students there,” Mason says as he drives us out of town. I nod, lost in thought. Jace hasn't texted me back since last night. He hasn't even reacted to the picture I sent. For some reason, it makes me feel bad. It makes me feel bad because I expected a reaction from him. But he probably just rolled his eyes at the picture and decided I was trying too hard. I also feel bad because I shouldn't even have sent a picture like that to my teacher in the first place. I don't even know why I did. But it gives me such a thrill to push his buttons. And I think, deep down, he enjoys it too. He definitely loves pushing mine. But fuck.. He was with another woman last night. He had sex with someone else last night while I spent the night on my own. No one came over, but I knew Jace would find a way to ask Mason—or Mason would somehow let him know—that I had “people over.” The truth is, all I did was steal a gla

An awkward silence settles over us,and I look up at Jace for several moments. For a very brief time, it is as if we are the only two people in the room. As if Mason and Arabella aren't here. As if nobody is here. I feel my heartbeat picking up and a sliver of something runs down my spine. He really does have amazing eyes. At least his looks aren't the issue with him. And maybe, somewhere far away in the depth of my mind, I have a tiny spark of something else. That I admire him for more than his good looks and confidence. That there is actually a reason that I sent that picture to him last night. And that it hurt that he hadn't responded to it at all. But as he looks back at me, there is so much fire in his eyes. It makes me want to look away, but I don't. Is he trying to intimidate me? Or is it something else? Did he really think of me when he was with someone else last night? Or is he just toying with me? Was he even with someone else last night? “So, Norali, how old are you?” A

The door beside me flings open. "What the fuck?!" I hear Jace shout. My hands are yanked from the steering wheel, and I see Jace bending over to remove the key from the ignition. He turns, gripping my chin. "Are you okay? I'll call an ambulance," he says, panic widening his eyes. "I'm fine," I manage to croak, closing my eyes against the wave of dizziness. "Bullshit. Open your eyes," he demands. I sigh and comply. "I'm fine. Just a little shaken." "Mason, call an ambulance," Jace orders, tossing his phone to him. "Jace, she’s fine. The airbags didn’t even deploy. She swerved right, hit the brakes—her head didn’t touch the wheel," Mason argues, glancing at me for confirmation. Jace's grip on my chin softens but his face remains inches from mine. His hand slides from my chin to my cheek. "Are you dizzy? Lightheaded? Nauseous? Do you have any pain?" Jace asks, looking down my body as if assessing the situation. "I'm really fine," I insist, though my head still spins a little. "Wh