Chapter 3
1030 Words
Scarlett's POV
Whatever happened that night at the club blurred into a memory–one that literally had me turned on from just remembering.
He f****d me all night, his commands edging me to submit to him, his c**k filling me so much that I yearned to see him again, just so he could f**k me.
But I didn't.
And it'd been three weeks already.
My life had returned to the usual routine–home, school, home. I was so caught up with school that I didn't even have time to visit the club. Whenever I got horny, I'd recall daddy's words and touch myself to it.
Calling him Daddy felt so hot.
And before you get the wrong idea, I was actually mature enough to have s*x. A nineteen-year-old could do whatever she wanted, right?
Though I enjoyed calling him Daddy, I wanted to know his name. And maybe his address, and everything about–
"Scarlett, you're doing it again!" Kimberly–my classmate and friend–snapped a finger in my face, pulling me into reality.
The passageway was filled with a litter of students who stood on either side of the hall, making a small pathway.
We'd been told about the coming of a new professor, and everyone was out here to welcome him. I wasn't interested, but Kimberly wouldn't let me hear the end of it.
So here I was–rolling my eyes as the voices of the students singing their welcome song filled the air.
I just wanted the professor to walk in here so I could finally head to class.
The moment I spotted the six-foot-two figure walking through the parting doors, my eyes widened with shock.
Shit.
I blinked back multiple times, believing that I was hallucinating, but when his eyes found mine in the crowd, his lips curling into that familiar smirk I remembered, my insides turned to jelly.
As he came closer, I got a better look at his face. Christ, help me, I might end up getting wet right here!
His green eyes shone with the same intensity that I remembered, his black shirt doing nothing to hide his muscular frame. His black hair fell over his face, the only signs of maturity being the rough patch of beard.
My heart pounded heavily in my chest, my hands clinging to my short uniform skirt as I averted his gaze.
"f**k, Tam, he's so gorgeous. I think we may have found a new professor to obsess over," Kimberly whispered in my ear.
For sure, the girls were going crazy over this man.
The hall suddenly went quiet as the principal arrived.
"Good morning, students! I'd like you to welcome Brandon Flakes, your new professor for History class!" the principal announced cheerfully, and the passageway roared with whistling and applause.
History class? I hated it.
But now? I've got a reason to attend it.
But then the principal locked hands with Brandon–the gesture was a little too intimate to be professional. She beamed at him, and Christ, the sight of it made my stomach churn with jealousy.
Why was she looking at him like he was hers?
He was mine.
Or so I thought.
The principal withdrew her hand, turning to the students.
"And alongside his new status as professor, I'd officially like to announce that he's my fiancé," the principal announced, pride evident in her tone.
Her words hit me like an avalanche, almost making me lose balance.
What the f**k?
How was he her fiancé?
And since when?
Fuck.
I'd been yearning to see him, and now that I have, he belonged to another? There goes my endless rounds of s*x.
My heart burned with disappointment, my nostrils flaring, yet little air got into my lungs.
I felt like I was suffocating.
Without thinking, I walked out of the hall, seeking to breathe fresh air and get rid of the feelings I was having.
Just then, my phone vibrated in my bag.
I pulled it out, my chest clutching even tighter after realizing who was calling.
My mother.
I knew exactly what she wanted to talk about, and the urge to refuse her call tugged at my mind. But I knew the kind of mother I had. She'd smack me in my sleep and punish me with bad food.
I couldn't afford that.
A sigh escaped my lips as I pressed the phone to my ear, and she started yelling almost immediately.
"You stupid brat! Timothy just called me now!" Her coarse voice tore through my speakers.
The mention of his name made my palpitating heart go numb. Would you believe after he embarrassed me, he called me back to apologize, claiming he wanted me back?
Who the hell does that?
I ignored everything connected to him–his calls, his texts, even his face at school.
So it was crazy that he was reaching out to my mother after complaining that she was draining his pockets.
The whole time I'd been lost in thought, my mother had been rambling on the phone.
"If you don't get back with Timothy, I'll disown you!" she barked, the words stinging way more than they should.
Though my mother was a selfish, harsh woman, she was the only family I had. I didn't see myself cutting ties with her.
"You're really going to break ties with me just because of Timothy?" I asked, my voice shaky from the shock.
"Oh yes, I will! I can't imagine catering for your expenses without Timothy's help. If you insist on not forgiving him, you can forget about school!" she snarled, the line beeping dead.
I dropped the phone in my bag, leaning against the wall as my shaky hands found their way to my lips.
Was this really the end of school for me?
Fuck.
My mother had abandoned me.
Hot tears flowed down my cheeks.
Was this really the end of my dreams?
I shook my head, sobbing profusely at the thought of me never becoming a software engineer.
But as I sobbed, a familiar deep voice made me freeze.
"If you're crying about money, I can sort that out for you…sexy."
- Writer
