Bad Teacher

11| The Intervention

Nickolai

If only I had stalked her like the deranged part of me has suggested for the last few days.

I would have known it was her birthday. I would have... I don't know what I would have done, but it would have been something. I feel stupid, knowing that I no idea who she really is. I usually investigated each person that stepped into my life but I've held off with her.

Why? Why have I not had one of my men send me her file already.

Maybe because I didn't want anybody to know her. Maybe because I knew that a file only did so much. It told me her age and where she came from. Gave me records of her birth and all she's achieved thus far. But it didn't tell me about her personality. It didn't tell me what her thoughts were regarding me. It didn't tell me how her lips tasted and if she moaned when she came.

I've been trying not to think of the latter. I've been trying not to think of her in any way besides as being my student.

It's becoming increasingly difficult as the days pass. Last night I kept my distance because I was intoxicated, but today there's no excuse for my twisted thoughts. And they all surround her. Every single one of them. Every second for the last few days. Thoughts that were pushing me towards the brink of something. I needed to keep a level head and not give in.

Pretty difficult to as she walks beside me as we stroll through the back gardens. I have asked my men to stay clear, knowing she's already seen too much.

I was a bit curious as to why she hasn't asked about it, but didn’t push.

“This garden is gorgeous,” she exhales in wonder from beside me, her eyes taking in every inch. While she admires everything around her, I take the opportunity to watch her.

Her shiny hair that I know smells every bit as good as the rest of her. The long lashes and those green eyes that bore right through me. The delicate skin and full lips that are  probably as soft as the rest of her. Lips that I crave to taste. The longing that burns through my veins intensify as I my eyes run down the rest of her, taking her petite figure in for the first time. It's as beautiful as the rest of her. Small breasts and a behind that has my reeling. Don't even get me started on those legs.

Fuck me.

“Yes, it's quite beautiful,” I mumble, my voice seems to have deepened, and I hope she doesn't realize.

She turns her gaze to me, and when she catches me looking, she turns away again. It seems my eyes have made her uncomfortable again.

I hated how she always seems skittish around me. Afraid. Nervous. Shy. I'm not sure what to do about it. It probably doesn't help that we're alone right now.

Fuck.

A part of me wonders if I'm just imagining it, and maybe she wouldn't be alone with me if she was as scared as I assumed she was.

When my steps falter, she does hers. She turns her eyes back to me, confusion clear on her face, wondering why I had stopped. But I need to get this out of the way.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Cassandra?”

This time her brows furrow as she stares up at me.

“You flinch when I'm near and you seem afraid,” I continue. I don't mean to put her on the spot, but for my own sanity, I needed to clear the air. It would drive me to the brink of madness if she felt all those emotions towards me. I could already feel the slip every time I was around her.

She swallows, and then shakes her head. “I'm not... afraid of you.” I open my mouth to protest, but she continues. “You've asked me that before and my answer hasn't changed in the last few days.”