Page 36 of Hot for Teacher
Burke treated his friends to a truly terrifying glower and then pulled Chase to the side. He placed his hands on Chase’s shoulders, rubbing them up and down his upper arms briskly as he looked him over. “You’re really all right?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry. I’m—I should get going, huh?”
There was a long silence as Burke studied him. “No,” Burke eventually said, shaking his head slowly. “You’ll stay. But you’ll need to be punished, sweet boy. I set a boundary, and you ignored it.”
Chase hadn’t expected Burke to call him that—sweet boy—in front of other people. But Burke had, and very clearly. He hadn’t even lowered his voice when he did it. Chase shifted in place, not sure if he was pleased or embarrassed.
“Color?” Burke asked, his thumbs sweeping over Chase’s biceps.
”Green,” Chase answered instantly.
Burke’s pheromones sharpened, the leather growing richer, and a smile graced his lips, there and gone again. “Would you like to join us, or wait for your punishment in the bedroom?”
So matter of fact, even with his friends blatantly listening in. It made Chase hot and squirmy. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I’ll wait in the bedroom.”
“Do you need a book?”
Chase gave him a look. “I have a phone.”
Burke arched a dark brow. “Try it again without the sass. I’m not in the mood for brat taming.”
“I have my phone to keep me entertained, Alpha.”
“There’s my sweet boy. Go.”
Chase turned toward Burke’s bedroom, ducking his head to avoid the amused stares of Devon and Prince.
“Chase,” Burke called after him.
Chase turned. Burke’s gaze was hot enough to burn. “You can call me Killian, if you like. In your head, that is.”
Chase hurried down the hall. Once he was safely enclosed in Burke’s bedroom, he climbed onto the bed, fully clothed for now. He didn’t know how long Burke would be, and Chase didn’t fancy having either of Burke’s friends wander in and find him naked.
Chase took his phone out but didn’t unlock it just yet. He could hear the murmur of voices through the wall, as well as some light laughter. None of it sounded angry or mean-spirited.
Chase inhaled deeply. Leather and cherry. He was warm all over, and only part of it was embarrassment. Or arousal.
He’d fucked up tonight. He’d been unforgivably rude, barging in when Burke had told him he was busy. And Burke—Killian, Chase corrected, trying to get used to the change—hadn’t sent him away. He hadn’t threatened to deprive Chase of his company until he got his act together. He wasn’t going to end things becauseChase had gotten difficult. He’d even offered to let Chase join him and his friends, for fuck’s sake.
Chase didn’t know what to do with that.
Growing up, the few—very few—times Chase had acted out, he’d only ever been ignored all the more, brushed off to be sequestered with the nanny for days on end. He’d learned quickly that rebellion didn’t lead to anything good. At least if he’d behaved, his parents had sometimes remembered to shoot him some sort of acknowledgment.
Chase had been taught that it was easier to go along with things, no matter how bad they felt, and live with the crumbs of affection that got him.
But Killian hadn’t ignored Chase tonight. Kind of the opposite, actually.
Because when the alpha came back to this bedroom, he was going to mete out the punishment he deemed necessary, and then he was going to probably—judging by the heat in his eyes just now—fuck Chase like there was no tomorrow. And then he was going to hold him and sleep beside him and make him breakfast in the morning. All because …
Because why?
Because maybe Killian cared.
And maybe Chase cared too.
11
Killian
