Chapter One
Gunnar Fox was headed out to his car after a long day of teaching. High schoolers were not for the faint of heart, and he’d pulled detention, making for an extra long day.
Mostly he’d had to keep an eye on the kids and tell them not to be on their phones, but one of them had actually asked for help on their English essay and that had kind of made his day. He was proud of his reputation for being tough but fair, and even—occasionally—cool.
Detention had been made a little more interesting by the presence of one of his favorite students.
He’d never had Twyla Smith in class and thank goodness for that because she would’ve been a distraction. Twyla was a second year senior—nineteen and dressed like she didn’t have parents around to tell her that her short skirts and midriff-bearing tops weren’t appropriate school attire. Hell, he was guilty of almost walking into a wall because one of her ass-skimming skirts had caught his eye. Damn the girl. No, damn him for not being able to ignore it.
Twyla had a reputation around school for being a bad girl—always getting detention for not turning in work, for mouthing off in class, smoking behind the gym, making out with boys under the bleachers. But there was something about her that made him think she wasn’t really bad—she’d just never had anyone around to teach her how to be good.
If Twyla were his, he’d take her over his knee and teach her a lesson. Or soap out her filthy mouth. Or put her in a diaper and make her earn potty privileges. That would teach her some respect and some manners. She seemed like a smart girl—sharp and clever—she just needed a firm hand to provide some discipline. But wow, that was not Gunnar’s job. Not at all.
He’d only been at Clover Hills High School for two years and he liked it here. It was a good school with a lot of resources, way better than the one he’d left. He didn’t want to jeopardize his position for a woman, not even one as beautiful and needy as Twyla. Couldn’t. Even though he could feel his cock swelling at the thought of making her his little girl. She sure did seem like she could use a daddy, but that wouldn’t be him.
Gunnar shook his head to clear it as he finally reached his car on the far side of the faculty parking lot—that’s what happened when you were one of the new guys. Bad parking spot and duties no one else wanted like detention.
He was unlocking the door when he heard a commotion coming from back by the school. Probably just a pick-up basketball game getting rowdy. It was March in Clover Hills and getting to be spring. Even though snow still hid in the corners of fields and courts, the kids were excited to be outside and burning off their winter cabin fever. Other people might’ve been able to get in their car and ignore the ruckus, but he couldn’t help it. Gunnar turned to make sure his instincts were correct and when he did, he didn’t like what he saw.
A flash of bright red hair and a wink of bright blue fabric, surrounded by some of the boys who had been in detention. Twyla had red hair that she dyed to make it even redder and she’d been wearing a royal blue button-up shirt that she’d tied under her breasts and left mostly unbuttoned.
He wasn’t one of those guys who believed what a person wore meant they were “asking for it,” and from what he could see, Twyla was definitely more trying to escape the attention of the half-dozen boys who were surrounding her than attract it. But they were shoving her in between them, ignoring her protests. That wouldn’t do, not at all.