Chapter Twenty: The Next Day

The next morning I got up and was feeling deliciously amazing. I looked outside and saw that the snow had finally made it this way, and the world was quiet, calm, and it started to feel like a new beginning.

My classes were supposed to start here shortly, but I wondered if I could get away with claiming to be sick. A hard knock outside my door reminded me that I probably couldn't. So instead, I hurried to get ready and head downstairs. As usual, Mrs. Short presented me with a delicious cup of coffee and made small talk until it was time for me to leave to catch the bus. I hadn't asked Molly or Scott for a ride in hopes that today would be different. A momentary knot twisted my stomach, making me wonder if I should have.

I shook it off and made the determination that I wasn't going to let Keith get to me any longer. He had my final rejection last night, and I wasn't going to change my mind. I stepped outside and started towards the bus stop slowly. As I had been hoping, Mr. Jones' front door swung open as I walked by it.

"Come inside for a moment, little one," Mr. Jones ordered me gently with a smile on his face.

I returned his happy grin and skipped towards him. "Good morning, Mr. Jones."

"Good morning, my sweet princess," he returned the greeting, happily sweeping me into his house and kicking the door shut.

I blushed and giggled, adoring his new term for me. "How did you sleep?" I asked him politely.

"Very well." His smile turned a bit naughty, and I felt a pool of warm pleasure begin to build in my stomach. "Especially after I stroked my cock to the image of your hand buried deep in that sweet little pussy of yours."

A blush spread up my cheeks of its own accord, and I almost dropped my eyes. Mr. Jones' words... Dear God, his words. They should horrify me, but instead, I leaned into him, wanting more. I knew they were wrong and dirty. But coming from his lips, they made me feel deliciously sexy.

He cupped the back of my head and pulled me forward until my body was pressed against his.

"If we had time, I would make you drop those panties of yours and let me have a taste. But, I fear you would never make it out of the house today," he whispered against my lips.

Taste?? Taste what??... my panties... ohhhh... I swallowed hard as my foggy brain processed everything he was saying. Those same panties suddenly grew damp, and I shifted a bit. I swallowed hard as the desire slammed into her to beg him to do what he wanted. He brushed a soft kiss over my lips and moved back a bit.

"Something that will have to wait until I get back. Along with everything else," Mr. Jones said sadly.

"B-back?" I stuttered out, trying to get my brain working properly again.

"Yes, little one. Unfortunately, I have to head back to New York. I won't be back until after the New Year," he explained. "I'm so sorry."

I did drop my eyes this time, not wanting him to see the sadness his absence brought.

"Oh, little one," he crooned softly and pulled me into his arms.

"I'm going to miss you," I whispered against his chest.

"I'm going to miss you, too. Will you do me a favor?" Mr. Jones asked.

I nodded immediately, willing to do anything for him.

"I will give you my email address and every day while I'm gone I want you to write me a letter and tell me about your day. What you are doing, what you are thinking, anything and everything. No matter how small or big it is. I want you to tell me about it. That way, I can be a part of your day every day," he said.

I looked up at him curiously. "Why?"

"Because I want to talk to you, learn about you, know you. This is the best way to do it. Think of it as a daily journal. I want you to send it to me every night before bedtime, and if you have any questions or concerns about me, I want it there," he explained.

"So... like homework?"

He smiled. "Precisely. So will you do it?"

I suddenly became very serious. If this was something Mr. Jones wanted from me, then I would absolutely give it to him. "Yes, Sir."

"Such a good girl," he praised and brushed another soft kiss on my lips.

He held me close for a moment longer before sending me off to the bus stop, the small slip of paper with his email address in hand. I was still in my daze when the bus pulled up, and Keith opened the door. He looked me up and down, and I wasn't sure what the look on his face was, but it sent a chill down my spine.

"It looks like someone didn't spend the night alone," he commented coldly.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realized that my clothes were slightly disheveled from leaning against Mr. Jones. My hair was slightly messy due to his hands sliding into it when he had pulled me to him. I blushed slightly at the implications, but didn't really correct him. It was just another way of showing him that I really didn't want anything to do with him.

"Dirty girl."

His words hurt and angered me. I snatched my card back from his hand before he had fully extended it back to me.

"It's none of your business," I snapped, storming to the back of the bus.

I slumped into my seat, staring out the window sullenly. I caught a glimpse of Mr. Jones once more. He was standing on his porch as the bus pulled away. The same rush of heat course through me again, and a girly smile raised my lips once more. I sat forward and mentally began writing up the journal I was going to send to him tonight.

When the bus pulled up outside my school, I was the only person left on it. I sighed heavily and slowly walked to the front, trying to ignore the feeling of Keith's eyes on me. I turned to walk down the stairs, but his hands opened the doors yet. I braced myself and looked at him.

"I want an apology," Keith demanded, his eyes flashed with self-righteous anger.

My jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You have been acting like a spoiled brat, and I want an apology," Keith reiterated.

"You were being rude and disgusting," I spat out, so shocked that I didn't even censor my words.

Keith stood up to tower over me, forcing me to step back a bit. I never really felt worried whenever Mr. Jones stood close to me. But with Keith invading my personal space, every instinct in me was screaming a warning.

"I wasn't being rude. I was telling you what I was seeing. You come running up here looking like a slut that just rolled out of bed with a whole team of football players. If anything, I was being polite," he pointed out as he sneered at me.