Their Naughty Student Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Nicole Edwards Book list

  Copyright

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  E-book

  Acknowledgments

  About Nicole Edwards

  Nicole Edwards on Smashwords

  THEIR NAUGHTY STUDENT

  OFFICE INTRIGUE, 6

  NICOLE EDWARDS

  ALLURING INDULGENCE SERIES

  Kaleb

  Zane

  Travis

  Holidays with the Walker Brothers

  Ethan

  Braydon

  Sawyer

  Brendon

  THE WALKERS OF COYOTE RIDGE SERIES

  Curtis

  Jared

  Hard to Hold

  Hard to Handle

  Beau

  Rex

  AUSTIN ARROWS SERIES

  Rush

  Kaufman

  CLUB DESTINY SERIES

  Conviction

  Temptation

  Addicted

  Seduction

  Infatuation

  Captivated

  Devotion

  Perception

  Entrusted

  Adored

  Distraction

  DEAD HEAT RANCH SERIES

  Boots Optional

  Betting on Grace

  Overnight Love

  DEVIL’S BEND SERIES

  Chasing Dreams

  Vanishing Dreams

  OFFICE INTRIGUE SERIES

  Office Intrigue

  Intrigued Out of the Office

  Their Rebellious Submissive

  Their Famous Dominant

  Their Ruthless Sadist

  Their Naughty Student

  PIER 70 SERIES

  Reckless

  Fearless

  Speechless

  Harmless

  Clueless

  SNIPER 1 SECURITY SERIES

  Wait for Morning

  Never Say Never

  Tomorrow’s Too Late

  SOUTHERN BOY MAFIA/DEVIL’S PLAYGROUND SERIES

  Beautifully Brutal

  Without Regret

  Beautifully Loyal

  Without Restraint

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  Unhinged Trilogy

  A Million Tiny Pieces

  Inked on Paper

  Bad Reputation

  Bad Business

  NAUGHTY HOLIDAY EDITIONS

  2015

  2016

  Copyright © 2019 by Nicole Edwards Limited

  All rights reserved.

  This is a self-published title.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Author: Nicole Edwards

  Title: Their Naughty Student

  Office Intrigue, 6

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Details:

  Image: © Wander Aguiar | WanderBookClub.com

  Model: Jacklyn S.

  Background: © Jakub Gojda (55345801) | 123rf.com

  Design: © Nicole Edwards Limited

  Interior Details:

  Formatting: Nicole Edwards Limited

  Editing: Blue Otter Editing | BlueOtterEditing.com

  Identifiers: ISBN: 978-1-64418-004-4 (ebook) ISBN: 978-1-64418-006-8 (paperback) ISBN: 978-1-64418-005-1 (audio)

  Subjects: BISAC: FICTION / Romance / General | BISAC: FICTION / LGBT

  ONE

  EDGE

  Friday, October 19, 2018

  IF SOMEONE WOULD’VE TOLD ME I WOULD one day be willingly waiting for Zeke Lautner’s sister to meet me at a kink club, I would’ve told them to lay off the sauce.

  Seriously.

  No one in their right mind would entertain the thought of engaging Jamie Lautner in any sort of kinky activity. Not if they wanted to live, anyway.

  Except, that was exactly what I was doing.

  Didn’t matter that I had an entire club to manage. I had somehow been roped into meeting sweet little Jamie so I could show her the ropes at Dichotomy. Not literally, of course. No way was I going to tie that girl up. I valued my balls far too much to allow that to happen. Zeke would castrate me in a New York minute if he found out.

  Yet I couldn’t deny some sense of anticipation.

  I had known Zeke for some time, and I’d had the privilege of meeting Jamie a time or two. More so in recent years when it seemed Zeke used her as his plus one whenever there was a function that wasn’t club related.

  I tried to picture her as my little sister, but I had a hard time. It would’ve made tonight a hell of a lot easier if I could. Only then it would be weird because I couldn’t fathom introducing my sister into this world. In fact, that would be rather creepy.

  Not helping, Edge.

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. That inner voice was being a pain in the ass. Had been ever since Ransom Bishop came up with this absurd idea and Zeke had gone along with it. I had to believe Zeke was suffering some sort of mental breakdown. The man was so protective of his sister, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a long list of injuries sustained at that man’s hands. Any man who wanted to so much as take the girl for coffee probably had endured a broken finger or two.

  I shook out my hand. Like my balls, I’d grown quite attached to my fingers.

  For fuck’s sake, Edge. Grow a pair, would ya?

  “Master Edge?”

  I turned to see Angela Evans strolling my way. She was one of the submissives on duty here at Dichotomy, the red studded collar around her neck a sign that she was here in an official capacity.

  “Yes, Angela?”

  “There’s a guest waiting for you at the check-in point.”

  Fucking lovely.

  Part of me had been hoping Jamie would freak out at the last second and be a no-show. I couldn’t get that lucky.

  “Thanks.” I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. No way could I give Jamie the proper introduction if I was a freaked-out mess.

  You’re a Dom, for fuck’s sake. Act like one.

  I hated that damn voice, but it seemed to be there more and more these days. I wasn’t sure why it thought I needed a mental push, but there it was, always shoving me forward. It was almost as though I was stuck in a rut, and without it, I would likely find myself sitting at home, my hand down my pants as I ate pizza in front of the television.

  And what? Have a beer or two? Get fat and lazy? Come up with an excuse to be alone?

  As I was making my way to the front entrance, I passed Ransom and I couldn’t miss that wicked grin on his face.

  Yeah, buddy. We’re doing the death march. Are you happy?

  Ransom Bishop was an instigator. He enjoyed the hell out of setting things in motion. He was always
inserting himself in various situations, motivating people to do things they likely wouldn’t do otherwise. All so he could sit back and laugh. Somehow, I’d fallen into his trap and I hoped for his sake I walked out the other side in one piece. Otherwise, I was going to beat him within an inch of his life.

  I approached the front entrance, fully expecting to see Jamie standing there. Probably decked out in jeans and a T-shirt, not understanding what fetish wear was or why it was standard protocol in a club of this nature. However, I didn’t see anyone out of place as I scanned the area.

  My eyes shifted to the bar. Two Doms were standing there chatting. No submissives. I peered into the Dom lounge, but I only noticed Mistress Jane speaking to Mistress X while four male submissives knelt on the floor at their feet.

  Maybe she bolted before you could get here.

  I turned, ready to head up to the front desk to see if she’d done exactly that when my gaze landed on a young woman standing to the left of the scanning room where everyone was patted down to ensure they didn’t have weapons or video equipment.

  Holy Mother of God.

  Yeah. I really needed that voice to shut the hell up. It was hard enough to breathe without his interference because … Holy Mother of God.

  There was six feet of lithe brunette watching me, her long limbs drawing my attention as I took her in from head to toe. Not an inch of denim was covering her. Then again, the brown and gold corset she wore didn’t cover much of her, either. It cinched in her trim waist and highlighted her breasts, cleavage cascading deliciously over the top edge, which hugged her breasts lovingly. The brown spandex boy shorts covered her private parts but did nothing to hide those long, long legs.

  For fuck’s sake. Say something, dumb ass.

  “Master Edge?”

  I forced a smile as I composed myself, allowing my Dom face to fall into place. Ogling this woman wasn’t an option and I needed to remember that.

  “Jamie, you look … lovely.”

  She smiled and her face was so radiant it damn near blinded me. On a normal day, I wasn’t one to wax poetic about a woman’s smile, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Thank you.” Her chest bloomed with color and the sweet rosy red inched upward until it highlighted her cheeks. It was in that moment that I noticed how fucking young she was. She was ten years younger than Zeke, which made her twenty-three or twenty-four.

  Twenty-fucking-anything was insane for me to consider. I was thirty-six, which made this girl twelve years younger than me at the very least.

  It’s not like you’re old enough to be her father.

  Well, technically, I probably was. Not that I’d been having sex at the age of thirteen, but it would’ve been shortly thereafter.

  “Thank you so much for allowing me to come here tonight,” she said sweetly.

  “It’s my pleasure to have you as my guest.”

  Her brown eyes darted around and the curiosity I saw there made my dick stir with anticipation. I fought it back, reminding myself she wasn’t just any submissive who was looking to explore this world for the first time.

  She was Zeke Lautner’s sister.

  She was an innocent.

  She was off-limits.

  How the hell had I allowed Zeke to talk me into this?

  Jamie

  GREGORY EDGE.

  That was the name of the ridiculously sexy man standing before me. Master Edge to those who interacted with him inside these walls, simply Edge to his closest friends. Tall, dark, gorgeous. Every straight woman’s fantasy, I’d imagine. Mine, for sure.

  This solid slab of pure alpha male encased in an absurdly delicious package was … well, the first word that came to mind was dangerous. As though he should be stamped with a warning, something along the lines of: Beware. Could cause sinful thoughts.

  I’d venture to guess he was in his late thirties, determined by the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, a hint of silver glittering in his otherwise black hair. Those aquamarine-blue eyes glowed, a mesmerizing shimmer brightened all the more by his black hair and bronzed skin. The stubble lining that rock-hard jaw had my fingers itching to touch. It was rare for me to consider any man beautiful, much less one so masculine, but that was Gregory Edge.

  He was taller than me by a good four or five inches. Since I clocked in at six foot even, the height was a nice bonus. His lean build, currently outfitted in black leather pants, was rock solid, his abs defined by those sexy ridges and the distinct V that dipped down into the leather.

  And to think, this beautiful specimen was going to give me an introduction into the world of kink.

  “Have you ever been to a kink club before, Miss Lautner?” Edge asked as he stepped closer. His voice rich and deep, his words heard clearly over the music filling the space.

  “I have not,” I admitted, trying to maintain a purely clinical outlook on this endeavor. “I’m a virgin.”

  Those gas-flame-blue eyes—full of a mixture of hot and cold—shot to mine, and I realized instantly what I’d said.

  Oops.

  My blush heated my skin at least ten degrees, but I fought the urge to cover my face. “I mean … I’m a … a kink club virgin.”

  “Is that so?”

  I nodded. I was also a virgin virgin, but I figured he didn’t really need to know that. Not like I walked around waving a V flag, signaling that I had yet to be intimate with a man. Since I wasn’t interested in playing pass the baton with the most carnal characteristic of my entire being, I tended to keep it to myself.

  “When’s the last time I saw you?” he asked.

  “Good question,” I mused. “That birthday party?”

  His smile was warm. “Jane’s. Right. I remember that night.”

  He wasn’t the only one. I’d found myself captivated by the stalwart Dominant that night. Edge had come alone, and I had caught him eyeing me a few times. Nothing overt. Not a come-hither look or anything. He was not that sort of man. Not that I could tell, anyway. However, there were a few casual glances meant to be discreet. The kind that made a woman’s insides quiver with anticipation.

  Yep. That happened.

  Once.

  Sure, I’d been checking him out that night, too. Unfortunately, the evening came and went without so much as two words between us. So, when Zeke had mentioned Edge would be the one who would show me the ropes at Dichotomy, I’d been slightly giddy. I knew, above all else, that I could trust him to take care of me.

  “Thank you for offering to show me around,” I said, allowing my gaze to travel the room. “I’ve been curious as to what goes on in a place like this.”

  “Are you interested in D/s as a whole? Or just the interaction?”

  “I’d say I have a unique curiosity about Domination and submission as a whole,” I said truthfully.

  Although I’d told my brother I wanted to visit the club to get a better understanding of this lifestyle, I wasn’t exactly certain I would categorize myself as a submissive. Sure, I was curious, but I was more interested in picking the brains of those who lived this lifestyle than I was about defining my own sexuality. Would I openly tell my brother that? Absolutely not. With him, I tried to play it off as curiosity. The last thing I wanted Zeke to know was that I intended to make test subjects out of his closest friends. But what Zeke didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  However, I was still trying to determine how to play this with Edge. If I kept it on an academic level, letting him know this was research for my dissertation, he might toss me out on my nearly naked ass. On the other hand, if I played up my interest on a sexual level, perhaps he’d make it a little more personal, give me an in-depth view of this lifestyle. Either way, I didn’t want to scare him off before we ever got started.

  When Edge took a step closer, those devastating eyes raking over me slowly, I got the feeling he didn’t scare easily.

  “How about we start with the truth,” he suggested.

  “Truth?” Was the air thinner in here? It was getting hard
er to breathe the closer he got.

  “Why are you really here, Miss Lautner?” His eyes narrowed. “The men and women in this club like to have virgins for lunch.”

  “Do they?” Yep. I’d been reduced to a breathless puddle within five minutes of talking to him.

  The backs of his knuckles grazed my cheek. “Oh, yes. And I happen to know some who are very hungry tonight.”

  Did that mean he was intimidated by the fact I could be pure, untouched? Was he one of those assholes who thought conquering a virgin was the highest-ranking honor among men? I’d met those guys before, of course. The ones who would gladly open your door, even pay for dinner, but their expectation was clear. If they treated me like a lady and fed me, I was responsible for giving it up.

  I inhaled sharply when the tip of his finger trailed along the underside of my jaw, inching lower as he skimmed my neck, my chest, stopping just shy of my cleavage.

  It was impossible to think clearly with him touching me. I knew he was attempting to intimidate me, likely hoping to send me running from the room.

  “Are you?” I asked, failing to keep my voice from quivering.

  “Am I what?”

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving.” The single word spoken in a dark, seductive growl. “As a rule, though, I steer clear of virgins.”

  “We’re still talking about kink club virgins, right?” I asked, feeling the need to push back.

  “I don’t know, are we?” he taunted.

  I got the feeling Gregory Edge would not be the guy who would take my virginity and display it on his mantel like a trophy. However, I did get the sense he could be the guy I’d willingly hand it over to if my libido had anything to say in the matter. Even as I stood here, my hormones rioted, my body willing to accept his help in relieving the overwhelming ache, that inner turmoil that couldn’t be assuaged by a battery-operated boyfriend.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Edge waved his hand toward the bar. “Everything but alcohol.”

  “Is it true Trent Ramsey doesn’t allow alcohol in his clubs because it hinders one’s ability to make sound decisions?” I blurted before I could think better of it.

  His sharply pointed eyebrows lowered. “It impairs judgment,” he explained, his gaze studying me as he spoke, “and in turn, impairs consent.”