Mr Blackwell: Teacher Student Romance (3 page)

7

The air is sticky-hot as we stroll out of the club – me keeping a gentlemanly distance from Cassandra.

The bouncer checks his watch as we leave. ‘Looks like someone got lucky, and it’s not even ten o’clock. Best of luck with her kid. She’ll eat you alive.’

It’s then I see Ria in the VIP queue. Staring at me with huge, hurt eyes.

Oh Christ.

‘Ria—’ I reach out to her, but she steps back. She wears a silver gown that spills open from neck to naval.

‘I’m just walking her home,’ I say. ‘That’s all.’

Ria jerks back. ‘Who
is
she?’

‘I never made you any promises,’ I whisper.

Ria shakes her head. ‘Forget it. This is all my fault. You’re fucking sixteen. Of course you can’t keep your dick in your pants. Look, I forgive you okay? Just ditch her and come to the party with me—’

‘Ria. Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow …’

‘After you’ve fucked her?’

‘I told you. All I’m doing is walking her home.’

The bouncer snorts.

‘Take me home instead Marc,’ Ria begs. ‘I’ll give you the night of your life.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Listen. Ria. I’ve had fun with you, but—’

‘You had FUN with me!’ Ria screeches, taking aim to slap my face.

I grab her wrist. ‘Stop it Ria. You’re drunk.’

‘Oh fuck you Marc Blackwell!’ She wrenches her hand free and grabs a handsome, blond man from the queue.

They walk into the club together – the blond man looking like he’s won the lottery.

Cassandra shakes her head. ‘
Very
well handled, young Mr Blackwell. But for future reference,
never
tell a woman you had
fun
with her.’

‘Duly noted.’

Cassandra links arms with me. ‘Listen.’ She leads me down the street. ‘What just happened. I’m not like that. I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t want a man to bring me flowers. I won’t ring you up in tears at three in the morning. I just want what I want. Understood?’

Her eyes are on fire.

Christ – god knows I need a release. All day, every day I need relief from the turmoil inside.

‘I’ll walk you home,’ I tell her.

‘And you’ll come up for a drink?’

‘I’ll come up for a drink.’

Cassandra lives at a gleaming, silver block of apartments not far from the club.

As we step into the elevator, I begin to feel nervous.

‘Listen,’ I tell Cassandra, as the elevator pings open. ‘Just one drink. Okay? Then I should go.’

‘Okay,’ she says, leading me out into the hallway. ‘Just one drink. But will you let me show you one thing?’

‘What thing?’

‘A surprise thing.’

8

Cassandra’s apartment is beautiful.

Very LA.

Huge glass window overlooking the city. Minimalist couches and single orchids in tall vases.

‘What do you do?’ I ask. ‘To own a place like this.’

‘I’m an actress.’ She laughs at my expression. ‘Surprised? Every woman in LA is an actress.’

‘I just …’

‘I know. You haven’t seen me in anything. I look different in the movies. I’m what you call versatile.’

‘Versatile?’

‘Sit on the couch,’ she tells me. ‘What’ll you have … another whisky?’

I sit awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, my legs feeling overly long.

‘Whisky’s fine.’

‘Don’t most teenagers drink beer?’

‘I’m not most teenagers.’

‘I know.’ She passes me a large whisky in a square glass tumbler. ‘So.’ She sits on the couch beside me. ‘I need to show you something. You promised.’

‘I don’t remember promising anything.’

‘Just one little, tiny thing. Please. You won’t regret it.’

She disappears into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, she calls out, ‘Okay, it’s ready now.’

‘What’s ready?’

‘Come into the bedroom and see.’

‘Cassandra—’

‘Look, just come and see this. Okay?’

I take a large gulp of whisky and put the tumbler on a glass table.

Whatever she has to show me … it’s not a good idea.

I head to the front door, but as my hand reaches the handle I falter.

My head is telling me to run. Run away, Marc Blackwell. And then you’ll never find out. Never know just how dark you are inside.

I need to leave. I
have
to leave. I should walk away and not explore this. Keep it hidden. Locked away.

To my head, this makes perfect sense. But my body isn’t listening. There’s something dark and powerful inside that is desperate to get out. It can’t stay trapped any longer. It must swim up to the surface. It must breathe.

Control.

The word sense shivers through me.

My fingers slip from the door handle and I take a step back.

Then I turn and walk towards Cassandra’s bedroom.

9

The bedroom door is slightly open.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

I’m about to cross over. I know that. Cross over and release a dark part of myself. There will be no turning back.

If I was older … if I’d learned how to control my body better … if I had more sexual experience … maybe I’d be able to resist this. But right now, I can’t help myself.

My fingers graze the bedroom door, and it swings further open.

The first thing I see is a candle burning on a bedside table.

I don’t know why I notice that first. But I do.

Then my eyes turn to the bed.

Cassandra is lying fully dressed.

She’s not naked!

Relief floods my body. Maybe everything will be okay. Maybe she just wants to talk. Or persuade me to make love to her in a normal way.

But then I see the ropes. Binding her wrists to the bed frame.

Christ.

I want to run. But my body pulses and tenses in the most unbelievable way – excitement pumps through me.

It’s just rope. That’s all. And yet the effect it’s having on me …

‘You want control,’ Cassandra breathes. ‘Right?’

‘Right.’ My voice is low.

‘So control me.’ She pulls at the ropes. ‘I’m vulnerable. Waiting for you. See?’

‘You’re sure about this?’

‘Very, very sure.’

Christ.

I’m rock hard.

‘How can you … I mean, you’re tied up. How can you like that?’

‘I
love
it.’

‘You love being tied up?’

‘I’m not alone. Plenty of women like a man to take charge.
Really
take charge. It’s enjoyable. Pleasurable. How do I look to you?’

‘Good,’ I admit.

What the fuck is wrong with me? How can I like seeing a woman tied up like this?

Cassandra frowns. ‘You hate yourself right now. Don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let me guess. Violence in the family?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’d be surprised how often the two go together.’

‘That’s why I’m like this?’

‘You’re not
like
anything. You just have … a preference. So do I. You want to be in charge. It makes you feel comfortable. Safe.’

‘Do you do this a lot?’ I ask. ‘With men?’

‘As often as I can. Please don’t tell me you’re going to get jealous. You’re not going to ask me to be your girlfriend are you? This is just what it is. Sex. Okay?’

‘What do you want me to do?’

She squirms against the rope again. ‘I’m so helpless and vulnerable. I guess you could do whatever you wanted.’

‘No. Nothing you wouldn’t like.’

‘Well aren’t you the gentleman.’

I go to the bed and push up her dress.

‘You don’t have to be gentle,’ she tells me.

‘Yes I do.’

My hands find her thighs and pull her black panties down.

‘I want you to be forceful,’ she says. ‘Take charge. It’s what I like.’

‘What if I hurt you?’

‘Don’t
worry
,’ she laughs. ‘I like to be hurt.’

‘You
like
being hurt?’

‘Yes. Pick up that candle.’

I step back from the bed. ‘Listen. Cassandra. I’m not going to burn you.’

‘All you have to do is drop the hot wax on my thighs. Okay? It won’t burn. Just sting a little. Come on. Play the game.’

I look at the candle. She’s right – a few drops of wax won’t burn. I tip the candle so white wax drips onto her thighs.

‘
Oh
,’ she moans, thrashing against the ropes. ‘You can fuck me now. Do it hard. And grab my throat.’

I put the candle down. There’s sweat on my forehead and my whole body is red hot.

‘Not without a condom.’

‘In the drawer,’ she whispers.

The next moment, I’m plunging inside her, watching her thrash against the ropes.

At first, I feel in control. Totally in control. And it’s the best feeling in the world. I am in charge of this. I am in CONTROL.

Cassandra is bound to the bed, unable to tease or tempt me.

I pull out of her and run my hands up her arms, feeling the rope at her wrists.

Then I push her dress up further, my hands finding her breasts.

When I plunge back inside, her face softens in pleasure.

I love this feeling. I love taking charge. And she likes it too. I feel like I’ve discovered something more precious than gold.

‘How did you know?’ I gasp, moving inside her. ‘How did you know what I wanted?’

‘I … told you,’ she murmurs. ‘You get used to … spotting the types. I can’t put it into words. You’ll spot women like me … in time.’

I keep moving, loving Cassandra softening beneath me. Yielding to me and letting go.

But just as I’m about to come, everything changes.

I’m losing control now and I hate it. My body moves without me wanting to and I can barely stop myself.

10

I see Cassandra’s eyes close and hear her moan as she comes. I can’t hold back. I move and move and then I come too, in a haze of sweat and adrenalin.

I fall onto her, breathing fast and feeling like a trapped animal.

I can’t believe I just fucked a woman tied to a bed. And enjoyed it. …

And when I came … I was so out of control … what if I’d hurt her?

I have to get out of here.

I head to the ensuite, throwing the condom down the toilet.

Splashing cold water on my face, I stare in the mirror.

‘Marc?’ Cassandra calls.

Christ, I need to untie her. I can’t just leave her there. But then I hear her feet touch the bedroom floor. She must have some way to untie herself.

I stare at my face, breathing fast.

‘Give me a minute,’ I say, feeling very young all of a sudden. A frightened little boy who played with fire.

I see Cassandra in the mirror.

She puts arms over my shoulders.

‘It can be hard the first time,’ she says. ‘A lot to deal with.’

‘First and last time,’ I tell her, slipping away.

‘No,’ she whispers. ‘It won’t be your last. You’ll be back.’

‘I should go.’ I head into the bedroom, dressing quickly.

‘You were good,’ says Cassandra, following me and rubbing her wrists. ‘More than good. A natural. What are you worrying about? I enjoyed it.’

‘I can’t explain.’

‘You just need to practise.’

‘No.’ The word is fierce. ‘That’s the last thing I need to do. I should go home and forget all about this.’

‘That would be a shame,’ says Cassandra. ‘Given what you have to offer.’

‘I have nothing to offer. I’m a monster.’

Cassandra laughs. ‘No you’re not. You just like doing things a certain way. And as long as the woman likes it too, what’s the problem?’

‘When you come from a family like mine, everything.’ I throw on my jacket and head to the door. When I reach it, I turn. ‘You’ll be okay? On your own?’

Cassandra lies down on the bed and props herself on her elbow. ‘Always have been.’

‘You don’t want me to stay with you?’

‘No.’

I stare at my feet. ‘I could do with being alone right now.’

Cassandra snatches something from her bedside table and holds it out to me. ‘Here. Take this.’

It’s a card with her name and number on it.

‘I—’

‘Look, just take it. When you’ve had time to think. And understand who you really are.’

I drop the card in my jacket pocket. ‘Goodnight Cassandra.’

She laughs. ‘Oh Marc Blackwell. We’re going to have a lot of fun, you and me.’

I walk the hot streets all night and by dawn I reach my apartment.

Actually, it’s not my apartment. It’s owned by the studio, and I share it with two other teen actors from
Their War
.

Rory and Finn are in the living area, surrounded by beer and JD bottles. They’re red-eyed and playing computer games. Two girls are with them – both of whom I recognise from the movie set.

One of the girls is completely naked, passed out on the sofa. Another is in her underwear, sleeping with her head on Rory’s lap.

‘Hey dirty stop out!’ yells Rory. ‘Looks like someone else got lucky too last night.’

The underwear girl stirs and pulls her head from Rory’s lap. Her makeup is smudged and she throws me a groggy smile.

‘So who was the lucky lady?’ Rory asks. ‘Heard you left the club early. Ria was pissed. She spent all night making out with some blond dude. Fucked him in the karaoke booth. Then cried on my shoulder for two hours about how much she loves you.’

‘I’m going to take a shower.’

I go to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

My phone rings. It’s Ria. There are twenty-six missed calls from her.

Christ.

I undress and turn on the ensuite shower, setting the dial to cold. The water is shocking on my hot skin, and I inhale sharply.

I stand for a while, letting the shower hammer away.

But it won’t wash away who I am. Nothing can change who I am.

There’s a gentle knock at the door.

‘Who is it?’ I bark, ducking my head under the cold water and splashing my face.

The bathroom door creaks open, and I see a blonde girl in the doorway – the one who was sleeping on Rory’s lap.