Furore: Texas Chapter Duet Part One (The Night Skulls MC Book 1)
Furore: Chapter 6

I didn’t know what possessed me to masturbate to Laius Lazzarini. A convict. An outlaw that headed one of the most vicious, one-percenter motorcycle clubs in the country, perhaps even in the world.

Anybody who lived in California long enough, especially in San Francisco, knew what the Night Skulls were and what they did in America and Europe. There were horror stories about the criminal activities and abductions the San Francisco chapter was involved in before its destruction a few years ago, in the fire that allegedly killed all the members that were at their compound in Rosewood.

I wouldn’t even begin to delude myself about the nature of the Houston chapter and their president. He was in prison for beating a man almost to death, threatening a woman at gunpoint and almost killing them if she didn’t call the cops in time. No logic could justify my ghastly attraction to such a brutal criminal.

Except attraction needed no logic and knew no rules or boundaries.

My heart squeezed as my gaze roamed around the foreign periodical section—the most secluded section—at the back of the school library. Where my first kiss was stolen from me. Where I first lost all common sense and caution and broke all the rules.

It’d been a cold day, and the nightmares had been having a field day with me. After several coffees, I’d managed to teach my classes until fourth period. Then exhaustion overwhelmed me. The teacher’s lounge was too loud and crowded, so I’d used my lunch time to come to the library and rest. Wrong? Maybe, but my other options had been either the toilet or my car. Both would have been freezing and not a nice look for me if I’d been caught. The library had been the safest option. No one went to that aisle unless they were about to have sex. I’d convinced myself I was doing the school a favor by being there to scare away the students—and teachers—who had had any intension to exploit the space for nonacademic activities. How virtuous of me, right?

Using my jacket as a pillow, I’d dozed off at the secluded aisle. It’d been the best sleep I’d had in months. Until a warm breath had whispered in my ear, waking me up.

“You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” a voice had been whispering. No one had ever called me beautiful in a whisper before. It’d felt like a dream. A good one for a change. I didn’t want to wake up.

Something had feathered down my cheekbone and along my jawline, sending a shiver down my spine and a clench between my thighs. This couldn’t have been right. I never had good dreams, let alone wet ones…that had felt so real. My eyes had snapped open, and I’d seen it.

His heart melting smile that had had the girls in Raoul Sala High swooning met my startled gaze. I blinked at his tattooed hand that was withdrawing from my face, leaving me more confused. Had he really touched me?

“I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss Meneceo.” The dark green abysses had held me immobile, being that close—too close for my sanity—for the first time. That voice that didn’t belong to a boy but a man, a very masculine man, was even more distracting when it whispered. “I was just checking if you were all right. You looked so peaceful when you were sleeping.”

“Tirone.” I’d blinked hard, frowning, his smell mixed with that of his leather jacket, filling the very little air he’d allowed between us. He’d been squatting in front of me on the floor, his arms stretched by my side as he’d held the shelf behind me, caging me in that little space. “You’re not supposed to be here. What are you… What—”

“Hushh. We’re in the library,” he’d said playfully. “You don’t want someone to come here and think…”

“Think what?” I’d lowered my voice in shock.

“That we snuck here to do what people actually come to do in this aisle.”

I’d gaped at him. “Oh my God. Are you out of your mind? This is inappropriate even as a joke, so is your presence here…like that. You have to go. Now,” I’d said as firmly as possible.

His eyes had traveled from my face down to my neck, and then to my chest. “You should put on your jacket. I don’t want anyone to see you like that.”

Frowning, I’d looked down at my blouse. Instantly, my eyes had widened. A button must have come undone in my sleep because I’d seen my bra and half of my breasts from that view and he must have, too.

My mouth too dry to swallow, I’d grabbed my jacket and stood. He’d moved with me, his arms still forming that cage around me, his height towering over me. I’d pressed the jacket to my chest to cover up. “Tirone, move out of the way.”

“Not until I do this.”

Before I could have opened my mouth to ask, heat had scorched my lips. It’d taken me a moment to register Tirone Wisely’s lips, my student’s lips, were on mine, sending flutters in my heart, sucking all my power, swallowing me in flames.

Without knowing, giving me my first kiss. Or rather stealing it.

I’d been too dazed by the flooding sensations and searing inferno erupting through my body to stop him right away, and for one unholy moment, my brain had shut down and my ovaries took over, urging me to let him finish what he started without interruptions.

Just for one moment. Then my palm had found his cheek in a slap.

Stunned, we both had stared at each other. I was desperate for my sunglasses to hide behind them, but in foggy San Francisco, I couldn’t wear them all the time, especially in winter. I’d worn my contacts that day. Brown. But I’d felt he’d seen right through them, right through me. His face was so red, with shock, shame or anger, I hadn’t known, but I’d had no doubt mine was even redder with all of those. “What the hell have you done? Are you crazy?”

“Yes,” he’d hissed. “You have been driving me crazy for months. Months, Jo.”

“What?”

“All those essays and poems you’ve made us write, how could you not know mine were all about you? How could you be so oblivious?”

I’d shaken my head vigorously, equally disturbed and in awe. “I’m your teacher, and you’re a student. How could you—”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“I do,” I’d said through my teeth. “And so does the law. This is wrong and illegal.”

“Only if we get caught, but I won’t let that happen.”

“Tirone, move or I’ll report you.”

He’d smirked, letting his knuckles brush down my cheek. “No, you won’t. You care about me like I care about you.” He’d licked his bottom lip and let out a little groan that unexpectedly and sinfully vibrated through my core. “You loved that kiss as much as I did.”

I’d slapped his hand off me. “Yes, I will. What you’ve done is a crime. You touched me without consent. You forced your mouth—”

“If you play that way, it’s gonna be your word against mine.”

My jaw had dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I’d say you told me to meet you here.”

“You little piece of shit. You think you can come here, take whatever you want without asking, and then threaten me, and I’ll just do nothing?”

“Fuck. You’re so hot when you’re pissed.”

“You’re insane.”

“Yes, I’m insane. Because of you. I’ve never been like this, but since you set foot in our school… I’ve been fighting for an entire semester, Jo, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind. So I decided, this semester, I’d tell you. I’ve been trying to make you understand, but you won’t. This was the only way.”

I should have been appalled and disturbed by his inappropriate declarations. I should have pushed him away and gone through with my threat to report him. I should have never ever thought that was the sweetest and hottest thing a boy had ever told me. “You need help, Tirone.” So did I.

“All I need is you, Jo. That hugest whole creation may be less incalculable than one kiss…and in that kiss, I knew you needed me, too. ”

My eyes had burned with the tears that suddenly had sprung in them and with the irritation from the contacts had been about to spill. How could I have been so weak to lose myself even for one moment? How could I have been mesmerized that he was citing E. E. Cummings after that disgrace? How could have one moment been enough for him to know? “That’s not true.” I had to lie.

“Don’t try to lie to yourself or me because I felt you. I know when a woman wants me, Jo. There’s nothing wrong with a woman needing a man, especially when that man is crazy for her.”

No one had ever told me something like that before. I was twenty-two and had never been in a relationship, serious or otherwise. Not even a fleeting crush. A couple of minutes ago, I hadn’t even known what a kiss felt like. Then, Tirone Wisely, one of the sexiest boys in school had told me he was crazy for me.

My mind had been about to take a break again, but I hadn’t let it. I couldn’t have. Not again. “You’re not a man. You’re a boy.” I’d shaken at the words, as if the weight of their meaning suddenly had dawned on me. “A minor.”

Anger had flashed on his face “I’m not a boy. I’m almost eighteen, Jo.”

He didn’t look or taste like a boy. He was gorgeous and exuded enough masculinity to fill ten men. But it didn’t change the fact of what he truly was. “My name is Miss Meneceo. Even if you’re eighteen, I’m still your teacher. This can’t ever happen again.” I’d been scolding myself, not him. “Now, get out of the way because I swear to God if you don’t, I’ll scream right here right now and won’t care what happens next to either of us.”

Hurt and distraught and raging, the look in his beautiful eyes had held me in place long enough to shake me. I’d wondered if he’d have let me go or would have touched me again, against all common sense, against my will. I’d wondered if I’d have fought and screamed like I’d said I’d have. I was glad he had dropped his stare and arms because my resolve wouldn’t have lasted long enough.

I’d moved two steps before he hauled me back against the shelf, and I’d have sworn he’d have kissed me again. Part of me, wicked and shameless, wanted him to. My heart had gone frantic when his fingers had found the fabric of my blouse, the back of his hand teasing the skin between my breasts, leaving a line of fire in their wake. I’d opened my mouth to speak, to protest, but nothing had come out but an embarrassing gasp.

“I told you I didn’t want anyone to see you like that. Your body is for my eyes only, Jo.” He’d fixed my button. “You want us to wait? Fine, I’ll wait, but until then you’re mine. If I see anyone, and I mean anyone, coming near you, I’ll punch the shit out of them and fuck you right in front of everybody if I have to so that they’ll lay off my girl. I won’t give a fuck if you scream or report me or call the fucking cops. I’ll ruin us both without a single regret because it’ll still make you mine. Do you hear me, Jo? You’re mine.”

I closed my eyes like I’d had in that moment, savoring every ridiculous jealous possessive word that had been ruining me for months, chest heaving with all the forbidden feelings that still engulfed my body and heart…

“Jo? Earth to Jo?”

With a flinch, I opened my eyes and tilted my head toward the direction of the voice that snapped me out of the haunting memory. Jarica Williams. A Biology teacher. She must have come to meet her students at the library like I had. We both taught the dreaded summer courses.

Immediately, she started complaining about Mr. Perez’s selecting her for teaching the course. To every other teacher, being forced by the principal to be here in the summer was a miserable chore. For me, it was a different story. I volunteered, just like I did in San Quentin.

“Bless your heart, Jo,” she wheezed a little, wiping the sweat off her forehead. “Such a nice girl. A do-gooder. I don’t know why you haven’t scored a man yet. You’re kind, young, beautiful and look at all what you’re giving back to society.”

I laughed under my breath. If only she knew. “Thank you, Mrs. Williams.” I didn’t do either volunteer job out of the goodness of my heart, though. In San Quentin, I was doing it to atone. The summer course I was doing as a last hope.

Ty disappeared one week before his exams. He never took them. I was hoping he’d come for the summer courses. My heart had leapt when I saw his name on the list, and I was ripped to shreds when he still didn’t show.

“Do you know what happened to that boy?” she asked.

My heart skipped a beat. “Which boy?” I knew exactly whom, but I played dumb.

“Tyron Wisely.”

“You mean Tirone,” I corrected because he hated it when people couldn’t pronounce his name correctly. It was one of the things we had in common, and we used to laugh about it together all the time. He’d resorted to being called Ty—even though technically Tee was how his name was to be shortened—because no matter what they kept called him Tyron.

“Yes, Tirone Wisely. What a waste. He was brilliant. I couldn’t believe he just dropped out.”

“Me neither.” Despite the risk, I’d driven to his place and even rung the bell. If either of his parents had opened the door, I could have just said I was there to see why he hadn’t showed up at school, and that I’d been concerned about his future as a good, caring teacher.

But no one was there. The house was empty. There were rumors that he skipped town with his family after someone had broken into their house. If that was true, why didn’t he call me or return my calls, at least, to let me know he was okay? I’d been worried sick. And how was such incident a reason to drop out of school right before his exams? He could have easily asked to be tested online from the safety of his new home. Something else happened, and I couldn’t help thinking I had a hand in it.

Guilt raptured through me all day, as it had all year, and more guilt followed me into the next week when my loneliness at night had made me resort to yet another forbidden deed. That first night I came hard to Furore wasn’t the last. Every time I touched myself, thinking about Ty, the only man that had ever touched me, the only man that captivated my heart and never let go, I ended up seeing Furore’s eyes, hearing him whispering my name, commanding me to come for him, and my body obeyed. As if I could no longer get wet except for tattooed, dark green-eyed students of mine. Ones that made me fear them as much as I’d been attracted to them.

At San Quentin, I waited behind my desk in the classroom for the inmates to arrive, sweating on an uncharacteristically cool summer afternoon for no good reason except my fear of being exposed. For what I’d been doing every night for the past week—as if Furore would take one look at me and know. And for whom I really was.

Our uncomfortable exchange last week hadn’t gone unforgotten. He was a criminal with a piece of information, though simple, he shouldn’t have had access to. Who knew how he’d intended to use it against me? Blackmail? Coercion? And to whose favor?

Then there was the matter of his son. I was curious to know the story behind him. Perhaps when I knew, I’d unravel a secret of Furore’s myself, and we’d both have equal leverage against each other.

That was why today, even though he’d pushed past the other inmates, sat in his desk without saying a word, not even a simple greeting, and buried his nose in his notebook, ignoring my presence as if I was insignificant, the next assignment would force him out of his disrespectful silence.