the substitute | l.r.h.

f i v e

(A/N) Somewhat graphic content near the end.

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Sitting in my seat, I found it incredibly difficult to focus on my work. All I wanted to do was stare at Luke and have his hands all over me again. But, since I was already ahead, I was yet again working on my Algebra.
   Luke hadn't acknowledged me since the hallway incident, but I was almost positive he would say something at the end of class. As I finished my last problem, I overheard Luke explaining more of The Crucible to my peers.
   "Can anyone tell me why Tituba confessed to trafficking with the Devil? We know she didn't, so why did she?"
   I looked around, curious at my classmates thoughts. They mostly exchanged confused glances, clearly not understanding the significance of it all. Luke and I locked eyes, and I saw his lips purse.
   "Miss Dean," he began, "I hope you can help your prosaic classmates. They become awfully taciturn when I ask questions." I smirked slightly, and cleared my throat.
   "We, as readers, know that none of the characters have turned to witchcraft. However, we do know that they have broken rules, like meeting at night in the woods and running around naked. Not to mention Abigail killed a chicken and smeared its blood all over her. The girls would rather spin fantastical tales about being forced to do it than admit it was their idea.
   "So, when accused, the only way to survive is to buy into the lie. The Puritans in Salem will hang any accused person if they don't confess, but will let anyone who confesses go. And, let's not forget she was being whipped for answers, and she was scared.
   "Basically, Tituba confessed to save her own skin. And in the process, accused two other women to throw the attention off of her. It's all about survival at this point." I looked down at my paper. I could feel everyone staring at, especially Luke.
   He strolled over to my desk and I nervously looked up at him through my lashes. He was very intimidating. His strong jaw was set, brows furrowed, fist clenched.
   "Miss Dean," he said quietly. His thick accent had me crossing my legs, my core heating up. His intense eyes stared into my soul, as the next few words filled me with dread and excitement all at once.
   "See me after class."
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The ringing bell snapped me back into reality, and I momentarily forgot where I was.
   Oh, right. You're in Luke's class. And he's asked you to stay afterwards. You're fucked.
   I watched as my fellow classmates scurried along, a few noticing my gaze. Most gave me sympathetic looks; no one liked being called out in front of everyone. But, Amber Johnson and Kimberly Mitchell primly walked past me, giggling.
   "Maybe next time, you won't show off in front of the teacher."
   "Know-it-all bitch."
   I felt these words cut deep into my heart as I restrained my tears. I couldn't help that no one else cared enough about this play. I couldn't help that no one would raise their hand. I couldn't help that he picked me.
   Once they left, Luke walked to the door and closed it. I walked as his thumb slowly pushed the lock on the doorknob, suddenly feeling apprehensive.
   I bit my lip as he looked at. He held up his hand and his outstretched fingers beckoned me to him. I rose from me seat, smoothed down my skirt and walked to him. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me to the wall. He pushed me up against it and trapped me. I looked up at him, mildly aroused.
   I breathed as steadily as I could, but Luke's eyes distracted me.
   "You're in trouble," he whispered. I bit the inside of my cheek and shifted uncomfortably. I could barely breath being this close to him and the wall.
   "W-What for?"
   "What for?" His laugh came as a deep growl. His eyes filled with list, and I felt my legs go limp.
   "You didn't text me last night. I stayed up for hours, waiting for you. You neglected to tell me you had a boyfriend, and then had the audacity to make out with him in front of me. And, that god damn uniform you wear."
   He reached down and grabbed my breasts. He gave them a harsh squeeze and kissed me right below the ear. I closed my eyes and tried to respond.
   "What about my uniform?"
   Since it was a private school, we had uniforms. Black and dark blue were the schools colors. Girls usually wore white dress shirts or blouses accompanied by the plaid black and blue skirts. I spiced up my outfit by wearing the blazers we were given and some matching black knee socks.
   "Mara, you look so damn sexy in it. Do you know how hard it is to watch you and not be able to touch you?" He moved his hands down to my waist and gripped my hips tightly.
   I suddenly remembered his obnoxious fiancée, Jeanette.
   "Luke, what're we doing? I have a boyfriend and you have a fiancée. You're getting married. This is wrong," I breathed. Luke took a deep breath and groaned.
   "If it's so wrong, why does it feel so right? That kiss last night, Mara, you can't tell me you didn't feel something. I haven't felt this way about anyone, ever," Luke whispered as he peppered my neck with kisses.
   I stared at the ceiling, incredulous. As much as I didn't want to admit it, he was right. This felt right. It felt good. And as his hands roamed my body, I want nothing more than to be with him.
   But, my mind circles back to Jeanette and Michael.
   "Not even your fiancée?" I pushed him away. I took a few steps away from him and ran my fingers through my hair. I took deep breaths and tried to calm myself.
   "Mara, you've met Jeanette. You don't need more than a minute with her to figure out she is a philandering and base woman. I know she's having an affair. Probably more than one." He took a step towards me, but kept his distance. I looked up at him, skeptical.
   "Jeanette and I are engaged. But, do you see a ring on my finger?" He showed his left hand, bare and large. "I do not love her. We are only engaged because of our parents."
   "Your parents?"
   "It's an arranged marriage. My father owns a large law firm, and so does Jeanette's. They want to have a merger. So, they want us to get married and have me take over once they retire."
   "But, you're a teacher," I said. "You have a job. That doesn't make sense."
   "My father has hated my love of English since I was your age. All my life I've wanted to teach. But, he wanted me to become a lawyer. I finally stepped up to him when I graduated."
   He stared into my eyes, and I felt my heart flutter. He looked vulnerable. It took all I had not to go and comfort him. But, I resisted.
   "That doesn't change the fact that you're still engaged. And I still have a boyfriend," I whispered. Luke's face morphed into a mischievous grin as he walked up to me and grabbed my waist.
   "You don't expect me to believe that you want that boy, when you could have me, a man?" He picked me up sat me on his desk. His fingers made their way under my skirt, and he lightly brushed against my underwear. I gasped, immediately becoming wet.
   "I could make you feel so much better then he ever could. I promise you that." He moved his finger faster, but never moved past the fabric. It was agonizing.
   "L-Luke...fuck!" I couldn't help but moan. I closed my eyes, wanting more. I pulled him closer.
   "What? Does someone want more?" I thought about it for a second, and realized the intimation behind the question. I could say no. I could end all of this right now. I could leave. Or, I could say yes. I could have this man, a man who wanted me.
   "Yes, please," I begged.

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Did you enjoy this chapter? Hope so!

Luke's a strange little bean, isn't he? XD but honestly same.

If I shared my Instagram, would you guys follow?( I used to have one, it's still active I guess, but I haven't gotten on it in almost two years. Most pictures are cringy. I had just started my makeup phase and Lord, I had no idea what I was doing.) Anyway, I have an account now, I just use is as an art account because I'm an artsy bitch. XD If you comment your Instagram and follow me, I'll follow back.

evangeline