“What the hell were you doing—”
She starts to cry, and I hold her tighter.
“Look, I’m not telling your parents, Brynn. That’s a promise. But let’s just call them so they can—”
“You can’t call—”
“Brynn—”
“No, I mean you literally can’t,” she sobs.
I frown, pulling back. “What do you mean?”
“My dad, he…” she frowns, looking down. “He’s in a lot of trouble. He stole a bunch of money from a lot of people. He got arrested and then skipped out on bail, and I don’t know where he is.”
My jaw grinds tight. What the fuck?
“And your mom?”
“Stepmom,” she whispers. “And Greece, I think. She’s divorcing my dad and she’s gone off the radar until it’s all settled.”
I blink. Jesus Christ, what. I look at her, suddenly so small and so frail seeming.
“Hang on, who’s taking care of you?”
She swallows, looking down. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m fine. I’m at school, so… you know, a roof and food,” she mumbles.
My jaw clenches tighter. “What about money?”
She doesn’t answer, and suddenly, it starts to click.
Holy fuck.
“Brynn, were you dancing there because you need the money?”
She nods quietly, and my heart breaks as I pull her tight to me, feeling her cry into my chest again as I hold her close.
“Look, I need the money, okay? For tuition next semester? I mean where else am I going to get that kind of money, Principal Kane?” she sobs. “Starbucks?”
“Jesus Christ, Brynn,” I growl.
“The guy…” she cringes, looking away. “The guy in the suit from the club, he… I owe him money.”
“What?!” I snarl.
“Well, my dad does, so I do now, seeing as he’s missing.” She looks up at me plaintively, biting her lower lip.
“That’s why I was…” she sobs again as she collapses into me, and I stiffen as I pull her tight to me again.
“I’ve got you,” I growl softly, holding her tight. “No one is going to touch you, Brynn. I promise you that.”
And the second I say it, with her so frail and vulnerable in my arms, I know it’s true. I know I’ll fight heaven and hell to keep her safe. I know having her here like this is a terrible idea. She’s a student, I’m her Principal, and twenty years older than her. And circumstances aside, she’s lying here half naked in sexy lingerie. And something tells me, if this got out, any claims of just wanting to help her might go out the window seeing as I just got a fucking lap dance from her at a strip club.
…Altruism also sorta goes out the window when you are half hard hugging the damsel in distress.
I tell myself to put that aside. I tell myself to ignore the base, caveman instinct to crave her, and take her, and make her mine. But the harder I try, the harder it is to ignore, and the harder it is to forget the way she moved on me, or the way her breath caught. Or the way she gasped as her tight little ass pressed against my cock.
I groan, holding her tight and stroking her back. The blanket falls away, and my fingers brush bare skin. I freeze for a second, conflicted, but when my hand moves back against her skin, she sinks a little tighter into me.
“Principal Kane—”
“I’ve got you,” I murmur as she breathes and holds me tight. “I’ve got you.”
I’ve got her alright. And no one is going to touch her or harm her. Not a fucking chance. Because now she’s mine to protect.
…I’ll just try and ignore the fact that my damsel in distress in wearing lacy, see-through lingerie and is making my cock rock hard.