Important Notice: Hello, my little bunnies! Unfortunately, the payment processor we use to make purchases is temporarily down. I ask for your patience while we move to get things working ASAP! 
ONE
I WAIT PATIENTLY in my room ever since I heard Preston’s car pull up. I wonder what is taking daddy so long to call me down. He’s probably introducing him to beautiful Melanie, but how long does it take to do that? I jump to the conclusion that Preston was introduced to Melanie and that the three of them are drinking beers in the kitchen and ignoring the real fact of why Preston is at the house in the first place.
Several minutes later, daddy finally hollers my name from the stairs, and I know it’s go time. I don’t have to be the only cock block between Melanie and my dad. Instead of having me meet him downstairs as per usual, daddy meets me outside my bedroom. He suggests that I study at Preston’s house. He says it’d be best, and that I would be less interrupted, but I already knew his real intention was to get me out of the house, and I didn’t care one bit.
Out of all the times he’s yelled, “Scram!” at me, this was the first time I was ecstatic to do so. A huge smile grows on my face. Daddy is still trying to convince me it’s a good idea while my mind runs wild with the possibilities between Preston and I.
I quickly agree so daddy will shut up. I want to go to Preston’s! I follow behind him as he leads us down the stairs. Now, I’m floating on a cloud when I see Preston standing at the door, wearing his hunter green tee and jeans underneath his black trench jacket. I can tell he had just come from the school.
I gather my belongings so we can leave, and now, I’m sitting in his car on the way to his house. Unreal. I’m blushing as I sit less than three feet away from the man of my dreams.
“Did you bring all of your books, Miss Kanyenda?”
“I did,” I tell him. My nose scrunches as he speaks my name so formally. He’s got his professor voice on and I wish he would put it away. We’re on the way to his house and he’s making me feel distant from him. During class or at school? Fine, whatever. But outside of that, I’m no longer just his student. I decide to test the boundaries. “I brought all my books, Preston.”
From the side of my eye I watch him react by gripping the wheel slightly tighter than he had before. I thought he would scold me, but he didn’t address my lack of formality at all.
“We should be able to get through a lot today. And,” he says, “if you’re willing to stay for dinner, we can get through even more. It seems your dad and Melanie have planned some time together today,” he laughs, kind of nervously.
I join him. “She’s something, huh?”
“I’m not one to judge. If it makes your father happy, more power to him,” Preston says. “Or should I say if it makes Davey happy…”
Now we are both laughing as we know how much daddy hates the name. But as long as he can get laid, who cares, right? Preston and I joke around comfortably through the ride and we both get a little more relaxed with each other. I mention a different girlfriend that my dad had a few months back. Preston had met her once and provided his own story which we laugh about also. It was nice to be with Preston without all of the apprehension.
Then we pull into the driveway of his large brick house and the tension comes flooding back. I look at Preston in the car before we get out and our eyes meet–just for that quick second where I hope that maybe our minds are thinking the same thing? He breaks the silence by opening his door and I do mine as well. We both step out of the car and walk to the front door.
He jimmies the keys from his pocket, neither one of us saying anything. He sticks the key in the top lock and then in the bottom, soon after his front door swings open and fills in all the blanks to what I imagined his home to look like. It’s been ages since I’ve come here. I barely remember it.
We both stand there until he offers me smile and gestures for me to enter.
I shyly thank him and walk into the home. Am I dreaming? Because it feels like I’m dreaming. I look around the large and nearly empty space.
“Miss Kanyenda,” Preston calls me, and his voice echoes a bit in the area. “Would you like any iced tea or water?”
“Water, please.” I smile.
He walks across the beautiful hardwood floors and into want seems like the kitchen. I follow in after him and marvel at its size.
“Wow!” I can’t help but gasp with excitement, “Your kitchen is huge.” I marvel at the stove and countertops beside it. I lay my hand on the cold quartz counter, spreading my arms out. “The stove is amazing. Do you even use this?” I have to ask. It is spotless.
“Not really. Maybe to boil some eggs.”
“This poor baby.” I would kill to use a stove like this instead of the dainty one at home. It was one of those stupid coiled ones that doesn’t cook food evenly. I know this one is a gas stove just by looking at it.
Preston chuckles at my comment, which makes me blush again. I’m glad I can make him laugh sometimes, even when I’m not trying. I love his voice.
He pulls two bottles of water out of the fridge and walks to a small, round and wooded table that doesn’t fit the esthetic of the kitchen. He takes a seat and slides one of the bottles to the other side, indicating my seat.
I look at Preston sitting with his legs open, as most men do, and wish I could sit right in his lap. I don’t and instead walk over to the other seat. I think back to the last time I was in his house. I was a child back then–maybe ten years ago. He had thrown a small birthday party for my father–hoping to get him out of the funk that he was in back then. It worked for the day and I remember all of the people at the house had a great time. Preston and daddy stayed up much later drinking and talking on the deck outside. I had fallen asleep on the couch and Preston carried me upstairs to a guest bedroom. He whispered to me as he tucked me in and kissed me on the forehead. I remember feeling safe in his presence. Not much else is recalled.
“I can barely remember the last time I was here.”
“Me neither,” he says. “Not much has changed, though. I’m a creature of habit. I like what I like and stick with it. Besides, I really only use the house to eat and sleep in.”
“It shows. It’s quite echoey, but I like it. From what I’ve seen so far, it’s pretty and big. I’m sure the rest of the house is the same.” There’s no point in me sitting down if it’s not next to Preston, so I get up and walk around. There’s another arched opening deep into the kitchen and leads into what looks like a living or dining room. “Could I look around?”
“Sure, of course.” He agrees and decides to walk around with me.
I step into what turns out to be the living room after I flick the light switch on, taking note of the high ceilings. “If I had a house like this, I would throw big parties that would be the talk of the town.”
“Really? The talk of the town?” Preston says kidding with me.
I laugh. “Just seems like a place you shouldn’t keep to yourself.”
He’s standing close to me, sharing my view of the ceiling. He has a smile on his face, and I can smell his cologne. I inhale surreptitiously to take in his scent. I love how manly he smells and looks. I start to move toward the next room, taking my own self-tour of his downstairs and we bump into each other as we cross paths.
“Sorry,” I say, and he steps back, offering me a path. I take it and step into a well-lit room.
“The study,” he says. “Comes with the title Professor. I have to have one. If I don’t, they throw me out of the club.”
“Really?” I say, flushing immediately as I realize I am being gullible.
“No,” Preston laughs quietly. “I just always loved books, loved reading so… when you have a lot of books and like to read, you end up with a study.”
“Very nice,” I say. “Makes sense,” as if my approval means anything.
“This is where I’ll be helping you study. Feel free to leave your backpack on the desk.”
I nod and do as he suggests. The room is bland but is nicely lit by a large window and white walls.
I walk out and look at the dining and guest bedroom before I pass by a set of steps. I turn behind me, “Do you mind?” I ask Preston, gesturing to the stairs.
“Sure.”
As we walk up the stairs together, I wonder briefly if he makes his bed and then I reason that I won’t get to see that room. He shows me two other bedrooms, neither of which I remember at all. Though, I understand why Preston looks the way he does when one of the bedrooms are set up like a personal gym. There’s weights and benches everywhere, and large mirrors on the wall. Closing off the tour, we pass a bathroom and another small room that he calls the playroom, which I assume he is saving for future kids? Then we come to a set of closed doors.
TWO
“The master bedroom,” Preston says, as he pushes open the doors.
He doesn’t indicate with his hand that it is okay for me to enter, so I stand outside looking in as if that is the right thing to do. I can see some large clunky furniture in the big room along with a large bed in the center. “It’s quite dark in here” The walls are painted a charcoal black and without the yellow led strips surrounding a small bookcase, I wouldn’t be able to see a thing. The dark curtains to the window are closed off as well.
“Where’s the light switch?” I ask, using that as an excuse to enter the room. I cross the boundary from hardwood to soft carpet and wait for Preston to stop me. He doesn’t. I peek over my shoulder behind me to see his face, but he’s looking toward the floor. I can’t read him. “Light switch… light switch,” I say pretending to look for it, as if it wouldn’t be right by the door like all the other rooms.
Even in this darkness, I can tell that Preston put more effort into the design of this room than any others in the house.
“I got it.” Preston says, standing at the entrance of his own room. “Here’s the light.”
The room brightens up and my eyes focus back on the bed. It is a black set with the only thing being white are the sheets beneath it. My head swirls with thoughts and images that I’ve collected of the man the man standing in the doorway. My imagination flashes and what-ifs fill in the blanks of what I envisioned his room to have looked like, completing the pictures and making them whole. I can feel my heart thumping. I’m glad I’m standing in the middle of the room where he can’t hear it.
“You love dark colors.” I say, taking note of his new tastes.
“Yes,” he responds, still looking at the floor. “I do.”
“I wouldn’t expect that coming from you. From your bright aura, I always thought your favorite colors would always be blue or green.” I remember him telling me those were his favorites several years back.
“There’s a lot you wouldn’t expect from me, Rose.”
“Like what?” I ask with a growing smile on my face, trying to keep my composure from him properly calling my name. “I want to learn more about you.”
He finally brings his gorgeous green eyes to me and I nearly collapse to the floor. Preston saying my name alone was enough to have me fawning all over him. His lips say nothing at all, but it’s like his eyes were trying to tell me something. Before I could understand what they were trying to convey, Preston shifts to his left.
“There’s no need for that.”
“What? Why? It’s been so long since we’ve just talked.” I take a few steps across the carpet. “If there’s something I don’t know, I want to–”
“We’ll talk about that another time. I’ll go take off my contacts and be right out.” He enters the master bathroom and shuts the door behind him. The smile on my face dissipates. Did he need to close the door to take out some contacts? I’ve seen him do it many times when I was younger. I remember standing on the seat of the toilet to learn how he did it. The first time I saw him do it, it freaked me out, but I got used to it and curious. He would explain the entire process with no hassle.
I move from the center of his room and sit on the edge of his king-sized bed, unaroused; feeling sadness over anything else right now. I stare across the room.
It seems like that closed door was a symbolic reflection of our relationship. I’m in his house, and even sitting in his bedroom, but there’s still something that separates us. I’m so close yet, there’s still distance. He keeps cutting me off. It was never like this. In the past, whenever I had questions about anything, Preston would answer me wholeheartedly. He was happy to tell me about himself if I asked. What changed? Does he not want me to know about him anymore? Does he only want me to be a student to him? What do I have to do to get Preston’s attention, again?
I lay back, and my body sinks comfortably into the comforter of the bed. Are my fantasies the only place I can be close to Preston? This is where he sleeps each night. I imagine him crawling into bed with me after a long day of work. He asks how my day was and I’d ask him the same. Both of us comfortable in our daily routine. He’d kiss my forehead goodnight, as I snuggle up in his arms. I’d caress the muscular of his back and he’d caress the softness of my skin. It’s time to sleep, but how can we resist each other being this close.
We both equally needed a release and I wanted to take care of that for him. I’d feel him slip the strap of my night gown down my shoulder and shutter at the kisses he’d leave on my neck. I’d lightly scratch his back, letting him know how much I loved what he was doing and would wait for him to look down at me so I could kiss him on the lips. I love you, I’d whisper to him. Hearing the words alone would send him into a spiral, quickly removing my clothes so he could engulf himself inside of me…
I hear the bathroom door swing open and spring up in the bed. I stare at Preston wide-eyed as he steps out with his black rimmed glasses on. He stares at me sitting on his bed.
I hurriedly stand up and say nothing, trying to transition from fantasy and steady myself firmly in reality.
Preston is the first to break the silence and averts his eyes while doing so, “Are you done looking around, Miss Kanyenda.”
There he goes again, reminding me of our student teacher relationship. I sigh and go along with it. “Yes… Professor Quinn. I’m ready to learn some physics.”
“Alright, after you.” He gestures toward the door without looking at me, breaking my heart time and time again.
I walk across the room, stopping just before the entrance and nearby my professor. I know he can feel my pressing gaze as he slowly looks down to me. My pussy throbs unintentionally when we connect. I’m still in his bedroom. Will I miss my chance if I don’t try something now?
I open my mouth to speak when I feel Professor Quinn’s large hand on my back, pushing me out of the master bedroom. He closes the doors behind him, his hand behind his back still on the doorknob. I make a second attempt to speak my mind, but I’m inches from his chest while his green eyes lock onto mine.
“What?” he asks with enunciation, as if I’ve offended him. His voice is intimidating.
“Nothing,” I blurt out. “You have very pretty eyes.” What the hell? Why did I say that!? He’s glaring at me now.
“Let’s go study, Miss Kanyenda.” His lips offer a familiar smile, but his eyes… They’re dark.
“O-okay.” I turn and walk down the stairs with Professor Quinn following behind me.
THREE
I ENTER the study feeling awkward and out of place. Shortly after, I see Preston walk in with the briefcase he always brings with him to school. He pulls out the class textbook and I go to do the same. I get the book from my bag and take a seat at the desk. My professor grabs another chair and places it beside me. He pulls in tight next to me, and I smell his wonderful scent. God, he’s glorious. I shrug at him for teasing me.
“Open to page 106.”
“Fine,” I say. I’m upset that we moved so quickly to him teaching me physics.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He can read me. “Let’s get down to it. I don’t want to waste any more your time.” I’m being a brat, but I didn’t care.
“Miss Kanyenda,” he says.
“It’s okay, Professor Quinn. I know why I’m here.”
He looks hurt at my reply and I look away. I don’t like to see pain in his eyes, but I think about my own. I have been pining for this man for so long and here we are. Close, but far away.
He doesn’t reply to my vague comment and starts the lesson. “We can begin with Quantum Physics if you think that’s where we need to, but honestly Rose, I think we need to start before that. Do you mind?” he says, reaching into my book and fanning back some 50 pages. He knows the contents of the book like the back of his hand and when he gets to the right page, he folds the book open and smiles. “Here we go. We need to start with Laws of Quantum Mechanics.”
“Oh, good.” I say sarcastically.
Professor Quinn balls a fist on the desk and I quickly realize I need to cut my act. Yeah, I’m upset, but I definitely don’t want to make him angry with me. “I’m sorry professor. I’ll focus.”
“Great.” He then proceeds to read the first portion of the chapter which discusses Newton and some theory of Einstein’s, but I tune out right away.
I know I am never going to learn physics and it is becoming clearer that he is the last person who should teach it to me. I am staring at his mouth as he speaks, thinking about his lips kissing me softly and his tongue, which slides to the front of his mouth as he pronounces certain words. That tongue that I have imagined sliding down my neck, over my collarbones and onto my breasts.
“These are the deep differences in the logic of classical mechanic and quantum mechanics. Well, maybe even mechanics is too strong a word. Why don’t we utilize…”
I hear his voice stop and I know he’s looking at me. I look down to where his finger is leading the words he is reading or pointing to a chart. As he continues to explain whatever it is that he’s referring to, I think of that finger gliding across my smooth skin, touching me in places he has every right to touch, causing me to moan loudly as I close my eyes and let him take me. My eyes follow his hand up his thick forearm. He’s quiet again, and I look up to his face. He’s looking at me, those green eyes staring into my own as I pull my lips between my teeth. Why isn’t he speaking anymore?
Professor Quinn blinks, then looks away. What happened there? His eyes go back to the book and he turns the page before he starts to speak again. This time, his voice is lilting up and down.
Shoot. Did I miss something? I’m trying my best to pay attention. I don’t want to disappoint him. All this erotica playing in my head is driving me nuts. My heart is beating like crazy with anticipation that I know will never come to fruition. Yet, I still hope. But I need to focus better. If he asks me questions, I need to be able to answer.
FOUR
“I’m hot,” I say and then reach down and lift the sweatshirt over my head, peeling it off my arms before dropping it onto the floor of the study. Underneath, I’m wearing a white tank top with thin shoulder straps “Woo, that’s better.” At least the heat won’t be distracting.
“Do you need me to turn on the air conditioner?”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind. That way you can wear your sweater.”
“No, I’m okay. Thank you, though.” I say, admiring how caring he is. Which also makes me sad. My guardian angel. I think, surprising myself. For the first time in a long time, the thought of him being my guardian angel surfaces. It’s what I thought of him before viewing him as a man and not so much a father figure, but is this as far as we go? I shake my head. I don’t want to think about this. It’ll only make me sadder. No more of this, Rose. Let’s focus. It’s time to focus. I tell myself this, but…
Professor Quinn slams both his fists on the desk and gets up from his seat, hurling the chair back behind him and onto the floor as he stands up. I watch wide-eyed as he walks around me. He fetches the sweater I had just thrown on the ground.
“Here.” He presents my sweater to me. I figure it’s because he doesn’t want me making a mess in his spotless house.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I stand from my seat. “I’ll put it away.” I take the sweater from him and start pushing it into my backpack, only for it to be snatched right out. Stumbling back, I witness my professor’s facial expression grow irate.
“No. Put it on. I’ll turn on the A/C.”
“Oh… you don’t have to do that. I’m really okay without it.”
“Miss Kanyenda!” He groans with annoyance, his arm tightening and reverberating as he holds the sweater out for me to grab. Why is he being so persistent with this? I study the side of his face because he’s angled away from me, which seems to be a regular occurrence these days. Silence weighs in, making the room heavier than I can bare. I know what it is. He doesn’t want to see me. I’m not in anything slutty or revealing, but he doesn’t even look at me. My lips pinch together.
“Preston,” I call to him in a whisper, trying my best to stay put together. There’s a brief pause before I watch his fist ball deeper into my sweater. I utter once more, “Preston.”
“What is it, Miss Kanyenda?” Irritation dripping off his tongue.
My brows furrow as I don’t fully understand why he’s irritated. It makes me frustrated. “Why are you calling me that?”
“It is your name.”
“No, it’s not. It’s Rose. We’re not at school or in your classroom. Call me Rose.”
I receive no response.
My frustration doesn’t last long. I don’t want to be mad at him. I want to love him. My brows loosen, only to raise at the center while I try to contain all the things I’ve bottled up until this day. I’m desperate when I say his name again, “Preston—”
“Miss Kanyenda!” He forcefully interjects. “We need to finish the lesson. Take your sweater, and then take a seat.”
Looking at my feet, I want to follow what he says… I want to be good for him… My hands shakily reach out, but not for the sweater in his hand. I reach for the balled fist holding the sweater and lay my hand on top of Preston’s.
He jerks his hand away with so much fierce that I flinch. He chucks the sweater to the floor and I’m stuck trying to make out the side of his face.
Tears form in my eyes. “Why… Why won’t you look at me?” I say, my voice barely audible, but Preston hears me, and the shake in my voice finally grants me his attention. “What’s wrong with me that you don’t look at me anymore.” I hug my arms. “You said you don’t hate me, but you keep creating this distance. You’ve always been around and now I— I—” I hiccup between breaths, “I feel like I’m losing you.” I sob fully as soon as I admit those words to him.
“Rose…” he finally calls my name, but I feel like he’s teasing me. I shake my head. He’s doing all of this out of obligation to daddy, even allowing me over his house to study. All these years he’s been looking after me was solely because of daddy. It was never about me. Now that I’m an adult, I’m a nuisance to him. He’s irritated with me and never saw me as a woman. I’m so stupid!
I run out of the room to avoid any of his excuses. I don’t want to be rejected by him anymore.
“Rose!” he yells from inside the study.
I’m running away from him, but who or what am I running to. This was my first time running from Preston, my guardian angel. He was the person I always ran to when something happened, and now I’m running away from him. So, who or what am I running into now?
I wipe my face, trying rub the tears away but they keep streaming. I swing the front door open and run out. I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I need to get out of here. I’m not wanted.
“Wait, Rose!”
My vision is blurred as I rush past Preston’s car in the driveway. A car blares their horn, but it takes a while to discern from where it is coming from. I rub my eyes with my forearm, and my vision gets a little clearer. Before I even realize it, I’m standing in the middle of the street, watching a blue van speed my way. I’m done for.
The vehicle is blaring its horn, trying to stop fast enough not to hit me when someone pulls me out of the street. I whip into their arms, gaining a familiar scent of pinewood soap.
It’s Preston. The car continues to blare their horn as they disappear down the street. Shock dissipates as he tightens his hold on me and I sink into his warm chest, listening to the fast beating of his heart. The tears come rolling harder and soak his t-shirt. I’m overwhelmed with emotion.
Authors Note: If you enjoyed this little story or looking for something more sinister, read this standalone Her Virgin Daughter! Ellie’s skeptical about this hotty hot billionaire, but it doesn’t stop her from being lured to his cabin. The build up is eerie. The sex is twisted. And the ending has a little surprise. He can’t help but make her his little cum bucket. Hehe~
It’s a dark one, so be sure to read our trigger warnings!
Browse the bookstore for all kinds of smut. Woohoo!
THEMES & GENRES
Age Gap, Age Play, Alpha, Billionaire, Breeding Kink, Bully, BWWM, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Cum Swallowing, Daddy Dom/Little Girl (DDLG), Dark, Domination/Submission, Dubious Consent (Dubcon), Edging, Erotic/BDSM, Exhibitionism, Explicit, First Time, Forced, Groped, Happily Ever After (HEA), Humiliation/Degrading, Instalove, Interracial, Jealousy, Love, Love Triangle, Non-Consensual Sex (Noncon), Obsessive, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral, Pervert, Possessive, Praise Kink, Punishment, Reluctant, Reverse Harem, Romance, Rough, Short Stories, Slow Burn, Spanking, Used, Virgin, Voyeur
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