A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth as she finished speaking. I heard a student close to me snort. Finding him, I became irritated when he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Easy to get the gold star when your mother is the agent in charge,” he mumbled to the student beside him. “Maybe, if I started fucking her or her mother, I’d get a gold star too. I’m not picky. I’d take either, Lawson.”

The two guys laughed quietly while I memorized their faces. No one insulted Kirby without it also insulting me. She may only be mine for a day, a week, or a month, but it didn’t matter the length of time until I released her, and she became the photograph on the screen. Kirby was mine. People didn’t mess with what was mine.

“Very good. Does anyone else have anything to add,” Margaret prompted, and I went back to barely paying attention to what was being said and focused my energy on Kirby’s body language in her natural environment. She didn’t lean toward or speak to any student near her. Kirby’s eyes would glaze over as she stared at my art on the screen, and even how she shifted uncomfortably in her chair told me about of who she was, what she liked, and what she was trying to hide.

She was a threat.

She was probably the only real threat in the room aside from her mother, and yet all I could think about was how she tasted like a sweet plum on my lips and how I planned on claiming that pussy of hers again.

Maybe even tonight.

Chapter 17

KIRBY

I couldn’t believe how nervous I was to have a conversation with my mother. My palms were sweating as I stood in her office, waiting for her. My dad loved the idea of me coming to visit him, but he said I needed to finish school first or take what I could from the classes to bring with me before leaving.

By some small miracle, I’d managed to get a sit-down meeting with a counselor to find out my best options for taking classes online. Mind you, it took a whole lot of ‘tap dancing’ to get it done. I hadn’t realized I was such a good liar until the tears began pouring down my cheeks as I blurted out the sob story of my dad being sick and needing my help and my mother being too proud to ask for yet another favor for me. Apparently, it was good enough to grant me a three-week leave as long as I kept up with all my studies online.