The Teacher of Nothing Read online

  The Teacher of Nothing

  Copyright © 2022 K Webster

  Editor: Emily A. Lawrence

  Photographer: Michelle Lancaster @lanefotograf www.michellelancaster.com

  Cover Design: All By Design

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  About This Book

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Excerpt The Tangle of Awful

  To Matt—my teacher of everything.

  From USA Today Bestselling Author K Webster comes a new steamy age-gap, student-teacher forbidden romance!

  He’s a grumpy teacher with a chip on his shoulder. She’s his much, much younger student who’s completely off-limits.

  Love broke me when I was a teen.

  My dad not only slept with my girlfriend, but he knocked her up and made her my stepmom, too. Nearly two decades later and I’m still not over it.

  How can I be when they’re a daily reminder of what was stolen from me?

  Being a teacher isn’t necessarily my passion, but pissing my dad off is.

  He thinks teaching is beneath our family and I love watching him squirm.

  But the joke’s on me.

  I’m completely obsessed with the quiet, beautiful girl in my class.

  Always staring at her perfect lips when no one’s looking.

  She’s so young—too young for me.

  Something about her, though, is just so sad and I can’t seem to stop thinking about her.

  I want to comfort her. To hold her.

  To teach her filthy lessons while in the sanctity of my bedroom.

  And yet, I can’t.

  Not only would I lose my job and bring humiliation down on the others in my family who don’t deserve the heat, but I’d be just like him. My father. A sicko chasing some girl he has no business going after. I refuse to let that happen.

  Until I’m forced to protect her when no one else will.

  Everything changes and I cross a line I’m not sure I can come back from.

  It turns out, I’m exactly like my father.

  A selfish man hell-bent on ruining everyone’s lives over a teenage girl.

  ***This is a complete standalone novel with a happily ever after. Characters are of legal age.***

  Trigger Warning

  This book has some triggering scenes for some readers including bullying, sexual assault, domestic abuse, and other potentially upsetting subject matter.

  These scenes do not happen between the two main characters.

  Callum

  Lips shouldn’t be so captivating. They’re a part of the body, not twins made of magic and beauty. But her lips are a work of art. I want to study them and discuss them. Marvel over their perfection—the exact light red shade of the inside of a sliced strawberry. Probably just as sweet too. Each time she licks them, I stifle a groan of need, wishing I could lick them too.

  Look away, you fucking creep.

  Somehow, I manage. I dart my gaze along every face in the room, lingering on the other fifteen or so females, wondering if it’s me who’s the problem here or her. When no one else captures my interest, I know the answer.

  Her.

  Always her.

  The urge to drag my hungry stare back to her pretty mouth is almost uncontrollable. With each passing day, I find it more and more difficult to remain unaffected.

  She makes it impossible.

  Someone laughs and attempts to stifle the sound. This draws my attention to Levi Paulson. He’s a little shit who gets on my last nerve. Normally, I’d be irritated, but I’m almost grateful for the distraction.

  Almost.

  “Is there a problem, Mr. Paulson?” I lean back in my desk chair and it creaks from the movement, echoing in the otherwise silent classroom. “I’m not sure what you think is so funny about your test.”

  Levi rolls his eyes but won’t look at me. “No problem, Mr. Park.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  A few students snigger at my reply. Levi’s features harden. I don’t care if kids like Levi think I’m a dick. I am a dick. I have no problems with being a dick. It’s kind of my thing.

  Which makes this…obsession…so complicated.

  Because I don’t want to be a dick to her. Not even a little bit. I want to pull off all her petals, expose whatever hides beneath her outer layers, and know every sweet piece of her.

  But I can’t.

  I won’t.

  She’s a student. My student. This makes her untouchable. I refuse to be like my father.

  Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Don’t fucking look at her.

  Against their own accord, my eyes abandon the shit starter, Levi, to travel their way back to her.

  Willa Reyes.

  My dick stiffens as soon as my gaze is back on her lips. She has her plump bottom lip captured between her teeth, her brows furled in concentration. Willa is the best student I have in any of my classes. Not because I crave her mouth like my next breath. It’s because she’s quiet, studious, and always outperforms everyone else.

  It’s not her performance that has me so captivated, though.

  There’s just something about her that taunts me. It provokes carnal desires inside me that have no business being poked at. Her innocence is like blood dragging its way through dark ocean waters. I’m the shark desperate for a taste—the predator who will tear through her sweetness and devour her whole.

  Fuck.

  My dark gray slacks tighten around my cock, the material unable to keep the hard flesh from straining for freedom. Beneath my desk, I push against it with the heel of my palm, needing relief but unable to find it.

  I’m going insane.

  All semester, this girl has lured me closer and closer. She doesn’t mean to do it. She can’t help it. She doesn’t know I’m a monster with an unquenchable thirst for her. Her only fault is being present, day after day, and chewing on her supple lip that distracts me beyond reason.

  Levi coughs and I’m forced to look at him. He’s smirking at one of his friends in class. He’s seventeen and on his way to prison. At least, that’s my deduction. I’m not usually wrong. I have the foresight of knowing where kids like him will land well before they do. A teacher’s sixth sense.

  “If you’d rather take your test to the office, I’m sure Mr. Erickson would love the company,” I grind out, my patience withering like a flower without sun. “That’s two, Mr. Paulson.”

  His nostrils flare, but he gives me a clipped nod. I’m still glaring at him when warmth washes over me. I cut my eyes over to Willa just in time to see her wide dark green eyes fixated on me.

  She immediately glances down at her paper and her skin colors to a soft pink. My unruly dick twitches. Is she embarrassed? Was she checking me out?

  I try to ignore that line of thinking, but it won’t go away. A million thoughts tangle together in my mind.

  How old is she?

  Does she find me attractive?

  Was she thinking about me inside her?

  I’m out of control. A selfish fuckwit like my dad. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to be everything he’s not. The exact opposite. Yet, here I am lusting over a girl half my age and who’s still in high school.

  There’s a special place in hell for men like us.

  My phone buzzes, vibrating my desk.

  “No phones allowed,” Levi mocks under his breath.

  I’ve had enough of that dipshit today.

  “Out,” I bark. “Take your things and go see Erickson. Now.”

  Levi’s face burns crimson with a mixture of embarrassment and fury. I don’t care. He’s pissing me off, interrupting my class during a test—interrupting my favorite part of the day.

  “Whatever,” he grumbles as he stands. “Peace out, losers.”

&nbs
p; This earns him some nervous laughter from his buddies but is silenced when I stare each of them down. Levi storms down the aisle, bulldozing over backpacks and knocking into desks, making sure to display how pissed off he is about his marching orders. When he shoves Willa’s test off her desk, sending the stapled papers fluttering to the ground, I have to grip onto the arms of my chair to keep from charging after him.

  Willa wilts and frowns at her papers on the floor. She presses her sexy lips together, stifling a groan of irritation. I sear my gaze into her, watching her body move as it slides out of her chair.

  She’s not short, but she’s not tall either.

  Average height, average build, average looks.

  There’s nothing about her that should have me obsessing like I do. But I’m here, aching to bury my face in her dark brown hair so I can inhale her scent. I crave to cradle her soft jawline and taste her sweet lips.

  I want her.

  I just fucking want her.

  With every cell in my body.

  Today, like any other day, she’s wearing something plain. A fitted pair of jeans, a scuffed-up pair of black Converse, and a gray knitted sweater. On any other person, it would make them blend in. On her, she somehow makes it sexy.

  Someone fucking shoot me now.

  Take me out of my misery.

  As much as I want to strip this girl, bend her over her desk, and fuck her into tomorrow, I can’t. I refuse to. I absolutely won’t.

  She quickly grabs the papers up and gathers them into her small hands. I expect her to sit back down, but her eyes have found me.

  What is it that she sees?

  Her perverted, evil teacher salivating over her every move?

  I focus on her eyes, careful not to look anywhere else that might give away my ravenous need for her.

  “Miss Reyes,” I rumble, hating how hoarse the sound is to my own ears. “Did you need help?”

  Her cheeks blaze red-hot and she gives a quick shake of her head. “N-No. I just…I’m through with my test.” She extends her arm out over my desk, offering me the pile of papers in her hand, her sugary scent enveloping me and making my mouth water.

  It would be so easy to take hold of her dainty wrist and drag her over the surface into my lap. Would she let me hold her? Would she rub her ass against my needy cock until I came in my pants?

  “So soon?” I arch a brow at her, not making any moves to reach for the papers because I might grab her instead. “Did you rush through it?”

  I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but it comes naturally to me.

  Her nostrils flare and a flicker of irritation dances over her features. “I didn’t rush through it. It was just easy.”

  All the blood in my body seems to drain to my cock, filling it and making it thicken impossibly more. That tiny bite of sass in her voice only manages to send me spiraling further into the madness that is her. It’s an unexpected layer. Another piece of her being revealed to me.

  I need to see it all.

  “Easy?” I purr, my voice low enough that only she can hear. “Awfully confident, Miss Reyes.”

  She fidgets, shifting her weight from foot to foot. The crimson on her cheeks only seems to grow more saturated as the seconds tick by with her on display in front of my desk. “Easy A,” she says in a breathless, unsure voice, though it’s still a taunt.

  “Hmm.” I carefully take the papers and pluck them from her hold. “Perhaps I’m not challenging you enough.”

  Her lashes bat against the apples of her cheeks quickly, as though she can’t seem to make sense of my words.

  Yes, sweet thing, I am absolutely flirting with you.

  “I’m not insulting your instruction,” she says quickly, dipping her gaze to my desk. “I just don’t find statistics very hard.”

  If she were mine, I’d tell her to get on her hands and knees so she could crawl around the back side of my desk and find something else instead that’s very hard.

  She’s not mine.

  She will never be mine.

  Because I am nothing like my father. I won’t pluck an innocent girl out of her world and turn her into the queen of mine. My family is still dealing with the ripple effects from when Dad did the very same thing.

  And not with just any girl.

  My high school girlfriend.

  Sourness settles in my gut and I don’t want Willa to see the hatred that lives inside me. Hatred for Nathan Park, my father.

  “Sit down, Miss Reyes. You’re distracting the class.”

  Her entire body flinches, which is a kick to the nuts. I don’t like being the one to make her wither. It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize and attempt more of this innocent flirting, but she’s already walking away.

  So I don’t stare at her cute ass and land my own ass in trouble, I pick up my phone to see what message I missed earlier. It’s from my brother Hugo.

  Hugo: Spencer has a D in chem. Can you go sprinkle some Park magic on your girlfriend so she’ll up his grade?

  Me: I don’t have Park magic, remember? I’m the family prick. And Lisa’s not my girlfriend.

  I dated Lisa Collins for like a fucking second. She was needy and kind of bossy. As nice as she was to look at, we had zero chemistry. No pun intended.

  Hugo: Fine. I’ll ask the golden child. Dempsey owes me a couple of favors…

  I nearly groan at his suggestion.

  Me: You’re the golden child, dumbass. He’s the black sheep. Our baby brother is in enough trouble as is. Don’t encourage him into bribery or prostitution too.

  Hugo: Like I’d let him go to prison. He’s too pretty for that shit.

  I smother a laugh.

  Me: How about I find Spence and put the fear of God in him to bring up his grade? He listens to me better than he does you.

  Hugo: That works. I owe you a beer. Friday?

  Me: We could always get shitfaced before Sunday dinner with Dad…

  Hugo: Dinner and a show? Count me in.

  Since I’m done ribbing Hugo, I set my phone down and pick up Willa’s test. Even her handwriting is sexy. All cutesy swirls and curves. I trace her name, written in black ink, with my finger, memorizing the feel of it.

  As much as I want her to draw her name with the tip of her tongue all over my body, I know I have to quit that line of thinking. I’ve worked too fucking hard my entire life to be everything Dad is not. I’ll be damned if I let a sweet girl like Willa Reyes transform me into that motherfucker.

  Not happening.

  Not now. Not ever.

  The seconds crawl toward the end of the hour. It’s agony forcing myself to look at anything but her. Like an alcoholic desperate for a drink, my hands tremble and the urge overwhelms me.

  Just one look won’t hurt.

  A little taste to get me through.

  As soon as I give myself permission, my eyes are on her pouty pink lips, learning, memorizing, studying.

  I need a distraction.

  And soon.

  Or else I’ll do a lot more than just look at Willa.

  A helluva lot more.

  Willa

  Why does time fly when you don’t want it to?

  It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since my…encounter with Mr. Park and it’s about to happen again. Except, this time, I have to live with the humiliation of knowing there’s nothing between us.

  Just my wild imagination.

  Wishful thinking is more like it. Men like Mr. Park don’t want girls like me. They want voluptuous and funny and clever.

  Not shy and fearful and sad.

  We might as well add awkward to that list too of what he won’t like.

  Somehow, yesterday, I convinced myself that he saw through to me. The person buried so deep, alone and afraid. I’d allowed myself to paint him as my chivalrous hero, saving me from the life I hate, showering me with love and protection.

  I’m a dreamer.

  And it sucks when I wake up to this wicked reality.

  Someone barks out a laugh in the hallway, drawing my attention. Dempsey Park is messing with his twin sister, Gemma, near a bank of lockers. They’re the younger siblings of my stupid-hot teacher. Everyone in the Park family, as far as I know, is gorgeous.

  Especially Mr. Park.

  Speak of the devil.

  He steps into the threshold of his classroom door, filling the walkway with his massive, muscular frame. A tiny whine crawls out of my throat. Not because he terrifies me. No, because I find him so sexy it hurts.

  It’s a thing.