Voyeur (A student/teacher romance) (Voyeur Series)
Voyeur: Chapter 7

CALLUM

“I’m so happy you called again,” Shannon said from across the table.

I didn’t really know what to say, so I gave a noncommittal hum and smile, hoping it reassured her that I was happy I did too. Even if I wasn’t sure why I’d called her again.

Liar.

Oaklyn’s smiling face, her smell, the way she looked when she came and the way it filtered into my dreams—

that was why I’d called Shannon. I wanted to try and get my mind off of Oaklyn.

“The holidays made it hard to replace time, huh?” she continued. “They did for me too. Then my grandmother needed help back home after hip surgery, which made me late to start my new job. But I’ll get there next week.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother. I hope she’s doing better.”

“Much.”

She continued to talk about her trip home and a tiff between her and her cousin. I took a sip of my bourbon and zoned out. She did enough talking for both of us. Shannon was beautiful with a wide smile and a joie de vivre she couldn’t fake. As for me, it had taken a few drinks in the

dark of my stiff sitting room before I’d finally convinced myself to call her.

I’d needed someone to help distract me from the past week at school with Oaklyn. It had been torture. She was friendly to everyone and had a bright laugh that lit her face. I’d watched her smile with such innocence, and I’d had a hard time reconciling her to the girl who fucked in front of people. The girl I wasn’t going to go see this weekend. I could spend one weekend away from Voyeur.

I still hadn’t called Daniel about her schedule. I was too scared to explain my predicament to someone else, and I’d just decided not to go.

But I thought about it constantly. I would replace myself wondering about the guy she was with. Occasionally, I’d be able to identify the twisting in my stomach as jealousy.

Wanting to do to her what he’d done to her. Knowing I couldn’t.

I wondered who else had watched her. Was it anyone she was around on a daily basis? Were they keeping it from her? Or was I the only pervert lusting over my nineteen-year-old student?

But at least I was trying to change that. Which was why I was sitting across from Shannon instead of at the bar at Voyeur.

“Would you like any dessert?” our waiter asked, halting Shannon’s monologue and bringing me back to the present.

“Oh, no,” Shannon said with a smile, her hand on her stomach. “I shouldn’t. Gosh, I can’t. I’m so full.”

“No dessert this time, thank you,” I said to our waiter, but kept my eyes on Shannon. I’d hated that I’d zoned her out. I didn’t like making my dates feel like they didn’t have my full attention.

“Another bourbon for you?”

“No, thank you. I’ll just take the check.”

Shannon reached inside her purse and I halted that. I was old-fashioned in believing that I’d asked her out,

therefore it was my treat.

My chivalry seemed to light a fire in her eyes as she took the last sip of her wine. When she set it down she dragged her finger along the wet rim, her gaze heavy and full of desire.

“Would you like to come to my place for a drink?”

I should have seen the question coming. And maybe I had, but I still had to ask myself: Could I? I knew what it entailed. I knew what she was really asking. And I wanted to. I wanted to lay down with her and feel her skin pressed to mine without a sheen of sweat covering my body as tremors shook my limbs. I wanted to follow this woman home and possess her in a way that made me forget the innocence that taunted me.

I needed to prove I could do this, and I needed to push Oaklyn from my mind.

I would focus on Shannon and her beauty and let that guide me. Let that anchor me in the moment.

“That sounds nice.”

She smiled, not hearing the slight tremble I fought to mask.

I followed her out to her car, walking her to her door and got her address letting her know I’d meet her there.

When I got in my car, I did the breathing exercises I’d been doing since I was a teen. Giving myself positive affirmations. I could do this. I could go further than before.

I could let her hands touch me and pleasure me without panicking.

My sweaty palms gripped the wheel tightly as I drove to her place. Once I’d pulled into the apartment complex, I waited a bit. Getting my heartbeat down to normal and thinking about Voyeur to amp up my desire and overcome the nerves. When I closed my eyes, I saw Oaklyn’s head pressed back, her lips open on a moan of pleasure, and my cock began to harden.

My eyes flicked open, pushing her from my mind. I stepped out of the car, letting the cool night air wash over me.

Shannon greeted me at the door with a smile and another glass of bourbon. As soon as I entered, her fingers linked with mine, and she moved me to her couch. I took one sip, letting the spicy alcohol slide down my throat and held her eyes. I set my glass on the coffee table and brought her fingers to my lips, kissing each one.

I knew I was good at the seduction, at making a woman feel wanted, letting her know I desired her. I could even pleasure a woman repeatedly until she forgot her name.

Whisper dirty words and touch her perfectly.

I just couldn’t follow through and let her reciprocate before the past sunk in on me.

Shannon set her glass down before scooting close enough to press her thigh to mine and leaning in to kiss me. I watched her eyes close as her soft lips pressed to mine. Watched her lashes slip closed as she allowed me entrance to her mouth and I tasted the fruity wine on her tongue. When her hands began to skim up my thighs, I linked my fingers with hers and held them between us.

I wanted the kissing to last longer. If I had to be honest, I was lonely, and kissing was an intimacy I could gain the most from. I needed this.

My heart kicked up when her hands slipped from mine and moved to my shoulders as she threw a leg over my lap and straddled me. Her flowy skirt rode up her thighs and exposed the tops of her stockings. When she began to grind on me, I moved back to the kissing. I cupped her breasts, trying to remind myself of who was on top of me. She moaned as I flicked my thumbs across her nipples and the sound sent shockwaves down to my cock and hope floating through me.

But then her hands dropped to the crotch of my pants and I jerked, my heart beating in an uneven pattern before

settling into an erratic thump. I focused on the feel of her soft breasts under my palms. I focused on her vanilla scent that screamed woman. I focused on her face and smooth lips smiling at me as she got my zipper undone.

Thankfully it was dim in the room, the only light coming from the kitchen through an open doorway. She couldn’t see the sweat beading on my forehead. Or the panic fighting its way through my body. As soon as her small hand snaked under my pants and brushed the skin of my dick, I lost. I lost the battle with my past, with my ability to hide my panic. I hit a brick wall of shame and embarrassment.

I didn’t want to have to explain to her how I’d gone so far and why I was jerking back now. So, I did the next best thing. I flipped her to her back and pinned her hands above her head. Her eyes widened in excitement and she rolled her hips against mine. I kissed down her neck as I worked my hand under her panties and pushed my fingers inside her. I worked her over, using all the skills I’d learned when I needed to avoid the topic of why their hands weren’t on me. She moaned, and I focused on the task until she was squeezing around my fingers.

I knew what came next. That she’d want to return to touching me and I couldn’t. I’d tried, and I’d failed, and now I needed to get the hell out of there.

As soon as she’d finished coming, I paused, freezing my whole body.

“Shit.”

“What?” Shannon asked breathlessly.

“My phone is going off,” I said, relying on her dazed state to distract her from the fact that my phone wasn’t going off. “I’ve got to take this. I’ve been expecting a call from a friend. His wife is due any day now.” I pressed one last kiss to her lips and pulled back, quickly refastening my pants.

“Oh. Okay.” She copied my moves and adjusted her skirt as she walked me to the door. “Let’s get together again soon,” she said, stepping in close. Peeking up from below her lashes, she grazed her hand across my crotch and I fought to not flinch. “I want to return the favor.”

I endured one last caress before I was able to escape.

The touch churned my stomach and nausea burned through me.

I wasn’t going to call her again. It had been a mistake to even try.

Sitting in my car, I waved and pulled off.

My jaw clenched as anger at myself replaced the nausea. Embarrassment burned my skin. At a stoplight, I considered turning the other way and going to Voyeur.

Maybe she’d be there. Maybe I’d be able to replace the feeling inside me with a better one. A performance to spark my imagination into something hopeful.

Without overthinking it, I made the turn toward Voyeur, my mind conjuring which boxes I’d check when I got there.

I imagined a fist lost in Oaklyn’s long hair, gripping it, holding her tight as she’s fucked. Picturing myself as her partner helped the nausea and embarrassment wane. A manic joy brewed inside me with each mile, and by the time I’d reached the club, I was on the edge of losing it.

There I was, in the dark of my car, an erection straining against my pants at the thought of fucking my student.

The nausea roared back. I was her teacher. She was a teenager. And to make myself feel better, I imagined fucking her. I gripped the steering wheel, like holding it tightly would help me keep a grip on my self-control. I swallowed, weighing the pros and cons.

Pro: Go into Voyeur and feel better, imagining yourself in the place of some man who fucks Oaklyn.

Con: Make a rash decision and go inside to have your nineteen-year-old student make you feel better as you imagine fucking her.

What the hell was I doing?

I put the car in reverse and made my way home.

Halfway there, I spotted a liquor store, and I swerved in to grab a bottle of bourbon, ready to make myself forget the mess I’d become.

Weak. I was weak, and I hated it. Deep breaths were my best friend as I made the last turn to my street. By the time I’d pulled into the driveway, I felt halfway human again.

Halfway like a functioning adult. Enough of one to put the liquor in the top cabinet and not crack the seal just yet. I only needed to replace complete control again, and I’d be fine.

I’d be fine.