Mr. Flynn (Mr. Dominant)

Chapter 11: Kerosene

"A quiet man is a thinking man."

- Anonymous

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"Hold on," Oliver says before I can react. He knits his eyebrows together, squinting his eyes in suspicion. "Why were you hiding a student under your desk?" My eyes widen. Holy fuck - how are we supposed to answer that?

"Um-"

"Oliver, shut the hell up. You're not even supposed to be here; you need to leave. Now." Valentine glares at Oliver, letting go of my waist. "No, actually, I was just leaving." I say softly, hoping to wrap things up a bit.

"Wait, whoa." Oliver murmurs, blocking the door way. "Stop right there, sweet cheeks. I don't think we're done here." I frown at him, glancing nervously at Valentine who is now fuming, holding himself back with everything he's got.

Oh, man.

"Oliver," he threatens in a deadly tone. "If you don't fucking leave in three seconds-"

Oliver clicks his tongue at Valentine, rolling his eyes. I look past Oliver nervously, hoping no one comes in the classroom. If anyone sees me with . . . Well, two hot men in a small room, they will get the wrong impression. I'm going to be labeled as whore of the year.

"Val, come on. I'm just trying to have a little fun."

"Two,"

"Alright, damn!" Oliver holds up his hands in defense, looking at me with big, brown eyes. "I'll leave you and your hot chick," he sneers, sucking on his bottom lip when locking eye contact with me. I blush at his comment, giving him a sheepish smile.

"But, this is not over, Val." He says, turning around and heading towards the door. Just as he opens it, Valentine grips my hand, wrenching violently at it so I'm forced to fall into his titanium chest. I glance at the doorway, watching as Oliver slowly smiles at me, giving me a sexy wink.

Wow. What is it with hot men these days? Slowly, I watch as he exits, closing the door behind him. Valentine lets out a deep growl, making me jump a little. He grabs my face, looking deep into my eyes. "What the fuck, Cynthia?" I stare wide-eyed into his darkened irises that fume with anger.

"What?" I protest, grabbing his hands and taking them off of me. "Did you just flirt with him?" Valentine looks uncomfortable asking. I give him a don't-be-stupid face, rolling my eyes and reaching for the office door. He gets in front of it before I reach it, glaring at me.

"Answer me," he says through his teeth. Okay, it's my turn to get mad. "You know what?" I shove my finger in his face. "Listen here, Mr. Hot Fuss," I spit, glaring at him with everything that I've got. "I'm tired of you telling me shit, okay?"

He narrows his eyes at me, keeping his lips sealed. "And," I continue, "I'm not yours. So, what? What if I thought Oliver was . . ." I bat my eyelashes at him, biting my lip innocently.

His face turns into bitter frost. Cynthia, you're close to jumping over the line! "Hot," I breathe out, arching a brow. Valentine looks like he's about to expire, but stands absolutely still.

"You know, I'm wondering if he, too, has a big-"

I'm interrupted by Valentine's hand clasping over my mouth. His free arm wraps around my waist possessively, spinning me around so that my front smacks down onto the desk. I can't even process it fully, but before I know it, he somehow has pulled my leggings down.

I shriek when I feel him slap my behind. "Ow!" I gasp, shocked. What the hell?! "Okay, I'm sorry!" I frown deeply, feeling him grip my arms behind my back. "Damn right you're sorry." He growls, spanking me again. I moan, and I'm not sure if it's from pleasure or pain, but this . . . "punishment" sure is making me damp.