Lessons In Corruption: A Student/Teacher Romance (The Fallen Men Book 1)

McClellan’s was cool. It was all wood, different colors and textures but totally beautiful, the big square bar most of all. It was packed with people, even on a Monday night, so it was filled with the sound of good humor and camaraderie. A happy place for happy people.

It made me feel odd, taking a part in the scene when normally, I only read about them. It was difficult not to sit back, acting as silent narrator as my companions, Rainbow, Tayline and Warren, who went by his last name, among them, laughed and reminisced about past school years and made predictions about the future. They were including me, everyone seemed determined to do so, but it only made it harder for me to let loose.

“I’ve got fifty smackaroos that the new MC kid sleeps with the entire grad class within the first six weeks,” Willow said over the rim of her fancy blue-sugared cosmo.

“Willow! You shouldn’t bet on the students’ love lives,” Harry Reynard, our soft-spoken librarian, protested.

She snorted. “Oh come on Harry, you have eyes. That boy is fine. Another few years, and I’d take him for a ride, if you know what I mean?”

“I think everyone knows what you mean,” Tayline said. “But I have to agree, he is seriously gorgeous. I forgot how to conjugate the verb faire in class today, I was so stunned by his pretty face.”

Everyone laughed so I took the moment to quietly tell Rainbow, “He was a no show in my class today.”

“No way. Did you tell the Headmaster?”

I shook my head, biting my lip. “I wondered if maybe he got confused with his schedule. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially with all this talk about him and his father. He probably feels unwelcome enough.”

“You’re a softie, eh?”

“Twenty bucks says that Tay hooks up with her biker again,” Warren said as he sneered down at pretty, little Tayline.

She glowered at him but the blush riding high on her cheeks ruined it. “Fuck off.”

“Hasn’t asked you to go steady yet then, eh?”

Even I frowned because Warren was being nasty, searching for a soft spot to poke at. I didn’t know this ‘biker’ but it was obviously a sensitive subject.

“Back off, Warren,” Rainbow hissed.

“Seriously,” said Georgie, our receptionist and an adorable middle-aged woman with bouncy blonde curls.

Tayline didn’t care for their protection. She bared her little teeth, leaning forward so that she was almost falling off her stool. “Careful now. I may just call up that biker and get him to remind you why we treat The Fallen with respect and more than a little bit of fear in Entrance.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” Warren laughed and a couple of his buddies, the Biology and Gym teachers, laughed with him.

Tayline leaned back on her stool, her face cast in the shadows of the low lit bar, and spoke softly, “You should be.”

A shiver worked its way down my spine. I was easily spooked these days but even though I realized that, it did nothing to waylay my terror.

I knew of The Fallen MC, obviously. Everyone in British Columbia, on the west coast of both Canada and the USA, in all of the United Kingdom, knew of The Fallen. They were the modern day warlords of those lands, the men who created their own rules and held ironclad rule over the rest of us. The police had tried for years to close them down but had given in to a tentative understanding when nothing, not since their inception in 1960, had brought them low. They were known and feared but they were not brutal the way some of the motorcycle clubs in Texas and the east were. The public shootings, pile-ups of dead bodies and poorly hidden marauding were a thing of the past. Their power was so absolute in BC that they ruled without contention.

I knew all of this because I did my research before moving to Entrance and because my brother was into a lot of bad stuff but he had never, not once, been stupid enough to get involved with The Fallen.

I found it hard to believe that pretty little Tayline was involved with an outlaw but I thought of the blond king from the parking lot so many months ago, his aura of menace and totalitarian-like control. He was the most attractive man I had ever laid eyes on, in no small part because of his unlawfulness.

As if sensing my thoughts, Tay pushed her stool closer to mine as the conversation resumed around us.

“You look interested, princess,” she said with a sly kind of smile. “Have you ever had a biker before? I have to say, you don’t look like the type but I don’t know you well enough to see what’s beneath the prettiness you’ve got going.”

I stayed silent because what she said annoyed me but I didn’t have enough experience to offer a scathing retort.

Tayline softened visibly, shedding the animosity that she’d shrouded herself in when Warren was attacking her. “I’m sorry. Cy is a touchy subject for me. My best friend is a cop. My kind of, sorta boyfriend is a one percenter. You can see how it’s a source of contention.”

“I can.” I hesitated. “Why do it then?”

She stared off into the distance for a long moment. “A man without respect for the law is not a man without respect for anything. All that intensity, that devotion, is channeled towards other things, mostly their people; the brotherhood, family, their women. You can’t experience anything like it until you’ve had it.”

I swallowed thickly, surprised by the shiver of want in my bones. “A difficult thing to give up then.”

“Yes,” she agreed softly.

We were quiet for a moment before she broke free of her contemplation to slam back the rest of her beer. She smacked her lips, wiped her wet mouth with the back of one hand and announced that the next round was on her.

I watched her go to the bar, which was when I noticed the blond king leaning against the far end, one booted foot crossed over the other. He was watching me in a way that said he had been watching me for a while. His handsomeness hooked painfully in my gut, pulling me towards him inexorably. I coveted that beauty; it filled me with greed and possessiveness. My hands itched to walk the cliff-like drop of his steep cheekbones, to shove themselves into the thick, kinky mess of his golden hair.

I watched his intense stare transform into a brilliant smile. My breath left me all at once but I didn’t care to get it back. I’d never breathe again if it meant seeing that man with that smile made especially for me.

Come, he mouthed.

I could almost hear his voice whispering the command in my ear, his hot breath against my neck. I shivered as I slid off the stool, making my way towards him without any conscious thought.

“Cress?” Tay called after me.

“Bathroom,” I mumbled.

The blond king watched me cross to him for a moment before he turned around and sauntered out the backdoor.

I followed him.

The night air was cool and fragrant with sea salt and cedar, so fresh it made my lungs tingle. I took a moment to breathe deeply because I couldn’t help it.

In that second, hands came at me. They pressed me by the shoulders to the wooden exterior of the bar but I didn’t cry out because I knew it was the blond king who held me. The yellow light of a distant street lamp fell across the side of his face, cutting it into black and white relief that made him both staggeringly beautiful and utterly terrifying.

He stared down at me, studying me without words or care for as long as he wanted to. I let him because apparently, I was having an out of body experience.

We were breathing in tandem. It was a strange thing to notice, but I loved watching the way our combined breaths mingled together in white clouds in the cool fall night.

I’d wondered what color his eyes would be but no amount of guessing could have prepared me for the absolute wonder of his gaze. His pupils were a bright, beautifully pale blue shot through with deeper demarcations and spots of brighter hue like imperfections in an ice cube.

Finally—his lips, too pink for a man, really—opened and I felt anticipation pull my body tight against the wall.

“Hey,” he said softly.

I blinked up at him, shocked at the simplicity of his greeting.

“Hey,” I said back.

Humor tugged at his mouth. He had more restraint than me. I smiled fully. His eyes tracked every nuance of the expression across my face before they darkened with unmistakable lust.

“You were in the parking lot of Mac’s Grocer,” he continued as if it were only moments after our bizarre almost encounter three months ago. “Pretty little thing standing dumbstruck beside a piece of shit Honda Civic.”

Instantly, I bristled. “It’s rude to insult someone’s car.”

It was his turn to blink, which he did before he tipped back his head and erupted in that clean, bright laughter again.

I tried not to fall to my knees at the beautiful sound.

“That’s the truth, babe,” he agreed after he’d settled down. “That’s the damn truth. But I have to say it anyway, that car does not suit a smoke show like you.”

“Smoke show?”

This had to be the strangest conversation I’d ever had.

His eyes sparkled, gleaming such pale a blue they looked almost colorless. “Yeah, babe. You’re too hot for such a shit car.”

Before I could get annoyed again, he chuckled and dipped down to speak just beside my ear. “Look good on the back of my bike though.”

A little thrill shot through me. He must have felt the shiver through the hands still cupping my shoulders because they flexed against me in response, pulling me closer so that there was only a sliver of vibrating space between us.

“I don’t even know you.”

“Pressed up against me on the back of my bike, you’d get to know me pretty quick,” he retorted.

His fingers were playing with a lock of my hair, which was incredibly distracting.

“You know, it’s polite to introduce yourself to a lady before you hold her captive in a back alley,” I explained lightly and even though what I said was true, it didn’t mean that I didn’t like it.

His grin flashed against his face. He knew I liked it. “Name’s King.”

I jolted, my eyebrows raised and my mouth open in shock. “Are you making fun of me?”

He tipped his head to the side. “No.”

“Your given name is King?”

What were the odds that my little nickname for him would turn out to be so literal? Then again, what were the odds that I would run into the same man who had radically changed my life three months ago just by being alive, vibrant and beautiful in a way I’d never seen before?

“King Kyle Garro, babe.”

“Why in the world would your parents name you that? Talk about unrealistic expectations,” I muttered.

He laughed again but this time it was low, husky. “Not so unrealistic in my case.”

Oh.

His eyes were laughing at me as he leaned even closer. The scent of him, the sweet tang of male sweat, the clean wholesome fragrance of detergent, legitimately made me weak in the knees. I was strangely grateful for the hands pining me to the wall.

“I was born to be King,” he said, his voice so full of laughter that I wondered he could speak past his humor.

I snorted before I could catch myself and, because he had my arms pinned so I couldn’t cover my mouth in shocked horror at my uncharacteristic display of rudeness, I widened my eyes at him. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“That was honest, babe. Don’t worry, I dig it. Besides, you don’t know me yet but soon as you do, you’ll get it, my name and how it fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He grinned at me as he spoke, as he pressed himself even closer so that we were plastered together from thigh to chest.

“Um, King, you’re a little close given that I literally just met you,” I muttered.

I tried to shift away but the movement just made my breasts brush back and forth over his hard chest. His eyes darkened at my wiggling and one hand slid from my shoulder, past the outer edge of my breasts to curl around my hip.

“Like the feel of you against me.”

I’d never met such a brazen man in my life. People weren’t allowed to touch strangers like that, to say whatever crossed their mind. There were rules in modern society. But it seemed King Kyle Garro was cool with breaking them.

“Do you have no shame?” I asked.

He took in my tilted head, the earnest set of my features and didn’t bother to keep himself from laughing at me. “Nah, never seemed like a great thing to have.”

Well, I couldn’t argue with that.

“That’s fair,” I said.

His gorgeous, crystal clear eyes sparkled like they were faceted. “Yeah.”

We stared at each other for a long time. He pressed so close to me that I could feel his heart beating. His pulse was a slow, hard drumbeat, whereas mine pattered wildly in my chest. He held me tightly, stared at me intimately as if he had a right to me, and more, as if he had been holding me and staring at me all our lives.

It was disconcerting only a bit more than it was enthralling and both emotions overwhelmed me.

“Are we going to do this all night? I’ve got colleagues inside waiting for me,” I finally said, going for sassy but failing because my voice was breathy.

He grinned at me and up close to it like I was, it almost knocked me out with its perfection. I’d never seen such a beautiful smile, not even in a movie or a magazine.

“Could do this all night, for sure, but I’d rather have your fine ass on the back of my bike. Let me take you for a ride.”

“A ride?”

He chuckled, but I caught the flash of erotic excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, a ride on my bike. It’s a good night for it. You ever been up the Sea to Sky?”

He was referring to the Sea to Sky highway that started at the border to the United States, ran through Vancouver, Entrance, Whistler and all the way up to Lillooet. It was one of the most beautiful drives in the world, threading as it did all the way up the coast of British Columbia before it disappeared into the mountains. I’d followed it up to Entrance where it settled just north of Vancouver, but I’d yet to drive any further.

So, I said, “No.”

“You ever been on the back of a bike?”

“No.”

This time a grin so wicked that my heart lost a beat to its beauty. “Lookin’ forward to breakin’ your cherry, babe.”

He laughed at my scowl as he unpeeled himself from me and then me from the wall. I was opening my mouth to scold him when he reached out to smooth a hank of golden brown hair back from my face.

“Got a lot of hair, babe,” he said.

“Ugh, yeah,” I answered.

“Looks good.”

“Um, thanks,” I murmured, caught up in the warmth of his small grin.

“Right, you go in there, tell your girls that you’re heading out and I’ll meet you out front in five.”

“Ah…” I hummed, uncomfortable with the entire situation now that his delicious body wasn’t pressed up against mine and his yummy hormones weren’t messing with my brain.

“No ‘ah’ about it. Get in there, get set and let’s fuckin’ go. Meet you out front in five, babe, yeah?” he ordered, leaning forward to grab the back of my neck and bring me close so that we were nearly nose to nose again.

I made the mistake of inhaling, taking in a deep lungful of that heady fresh laundry and male musk scent of his.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

He squeezed my neck, grinned into my face and stepped away so quickly that I nearly fell forward. He was laughing softly, hands in his pockets, as he walked away around the corner. I blinked after him for a minute, chewing my bottom lip and worrying.

I’d moved to Entrance to get away from my boring, strictly regimented life. I’d never been hit on in a bar, never kissed a stranger, never rode on the back of a motorcycle or done anything I shouldn’t have done. I was so dull, it was a wonder that I didn’t put myself to sleep.

So, with renewed energy and a kick of pure enthusiasm, I skipped into the bar to tell my new friends that I was leaving. When I approached our group of tall tables, everyone was still there but they’d collected a few more people. One of them was crowding Tay—which was easy to do considering her size and then, considering his own—and he wore a black leather vest embroidered with the image of a skull that dissolved into brilliantly detailed angel wings. It was a striking and disturbing image, almost too beautiful to represent a motorcycle club. The ‘Fallen MC’ was patched above the winged-skull and, if there had been any doubt, when the tall man turned towards me as I approached, it was obvious that he belonged to the outlaw band of brothers that silently ruled the province. This was obvious because he was a tall, broad-shouldered man with aggressive muscles that bulged under his black tee, a thick albeit beautifully groomed beard that partially hid the massive scar that sliced from the top of his left eye, ran behind a black eye patch and reemerged across his cheek to disappear in the hair covering his jaw. I’d never seen a man with such a disfiguring scar, let alone a man without an eye and I was struck dumb not with horror but curiosity. I’d learned a long time ago that my curiosity could get me in some serious trouble, so I quickly composed myself and walked up to the duo as if they were my best friends.

The one-eyed man stared me down with his single, dark brown eye as if daring me to be disturbed. I had the feeling he enjoyed frightening people.

I smiled at him. “Hi, you must be Cy. I’m Cressida Irons. It’s nice to meet a friend of Tayline’s.”

Cy stared at me for what felt like forever before his glare lessened—though didn’t leave completely—and he tipped his chin at me. I realized that it was the only acknowledgment I was going to get and I was okay with that.

When I turned to look at Tay, she was trying to rein in a smile.

“I’m leaving,” I said, glad that Tay had her beau to distract her from my departure and that Rainbow was nowhere to be seen.

I’d only known them a day, but I had a feeling those two had already inducted me into their sacred sisterhood and I also had a feeling they didn’t mess around with their girl’s-night-out commandments so letting a fellow girl friend leave on the back of some stranger’s motorcycle would probably not be okay with them.

There was a small voice of reason in the back of my head that reminded me of the last time I’d left a bar with a random stranger. If no one had known where I’d gone, that night would have ended a lot differently for me. A lot worse.

So, I quickly leaned in to tell Tay, “I’m going on a ride with one of the bikers. Say bye to Rainbow for me. I’ll text you when I get home safe, okay?”

“You have my number,” she said but she looked uneasy. “Which biker?”

Before I could answer, Cy moved closer to her, knocking her knees apart with his wide hips so he could settle between them. When she struggled slightly, his hands clamped down on her hips to still her.

His woman secured, Cy looked at me and grunted, “Leavin’ too. Later.”

I smiled again at him, this time genuinely because I thought he was funny. “Later,” I echoed with a chin lift before I grabbed my purse from Tay’s chair and headed out the front doors.