Free Vicious (MC Club Biker Urban Alpha Male Erotic Romance) by Billie Kasper

 
    Jailed
     
    “A 4.0 GPA and perfect ACT and SAT scores… Well, Ms. Grant, it looks like you’ll have a bright future ahead of you.”
     
    I tried to make myself smile.
     
    “Thank you, Mr. Wilson,” I choked out, shifting uncomfortably in my plaid skirt. The uniform at St. Benedict’s School for Girls was quite becoming but didn’t leave much to the imagination. I could never help but feel uncomfortable when I was in Mr. Wilson’s presence. The other girls seemed to like him but he always struck me as lecherous somehow—a total creep, the way he looked us over, as if we were pieces of meat or prize horses up for auction.
     
    On the other hand, the uniform lent itself to flirting with boys… Oh, yes, it did. And most of the girls at the school were boy crazy. That’s what four years without the opposite sex with do to you.
     
    “Have you considered where you’ll apply to college?”
     
    “Well…” I started, looking at the floor. I had buttoned my shirt up all the way to the top of the collar but I still felt Mr. Wilson’s eyes boring a hole through my clothes, hunting for my soft young flesh, looking at me where he wasn’t supposed to be. “Well… My dad went to Yale, and my mom went to Stanford, so they want me to look there.”
     
    “All good choices. I would look at Berkeley as well, plus all the other Ivies. University of Chicago is a popular choice now for students of your caliber and talent, as is Georgetown, Duke, Notre Dame…”
     
    Mr. Wilson stood and circled around his desk, coming to stand right behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders.
     
    “Of course, as you know, you’ll still need a recommendation from me, as your school’s head guidance counselor…”
     
    His strong, firm hands began to work the tension and discomfort away from my shoulders.
     
    “You’re eighteen, aren’t you?”
     
    My blood ran cold. His hands were sliding further and further down my shoulders, towards my chest.
     
    “I… I am…” I murmured.
     
    “Good. That means… Certain opportunities will be open to you. Opportunities that wouldn’t have been open otherwise.”
     
    “Opportunities… Like volunteer positions?” I asked softly. “Or… an internship?”
     
    “Sure, if that’s what you’d like. I could definitely hook you up with something like that…” he whispered, his hands sliding further and further away from my shoulders, along my collar bone. He pressed the bulge in his pants against me from behind, forcing it into my neck.
     
    Suddenly, outside, there was an incredible, angry roaring. We both looked up. It was the sound of four or five, maybe more, engines screaming, accompanied by the ripping of hot rubber. I took advantage of the momentary distraction to dart over to the window, peeking out.
     
    “Oh, Mr. Wilson, look—it’s a biker gang!” I said, pointing to the line of motorcycles hurtling down the road running along the school grounds. Our town is a tiny speck in the middle of no where and having a biker gang charge on through would provide gossip and distraction for weeks.
     
    I squinted, trying to make out the details of their outfits. They were dressed in black leather from head to toe. Many of them wore old, military-looking helmets, like the kinds the Nazis are always wearing in old war movies. They glanced at us as they rode by and one of them, out in front, grinned at me.
     
    He wore goggles over his tanned, soot-covered face, but his teeth were bright white—like the glowing fangs of some vicious forest beast. They practically glistened in the shining sunlight. I found myself blushing as he raised his left hand and flipped the school off. Yet, I could have sworn that he caught my eye at the same time and shot me a wink. It was over in a second, though, and if I had had to prove that it really happened, I would have been at a loss.
     
    “Hooligans,” Mr. Wilson muttered, grabbing me by the shoulder. “Filthy hooligans. Come away from