She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother Chapter 378: In His Care

The pavement had evened out at last... Garrison Avenue yielding to a surface that no longer jolted like a washboard... yet the ease hardly penetrated her awareness.

Heena's form betrayed her completely.

The wetness between her legs had shifted from mere discomfort to utter torment.

A slippery, relentless signal with each adjustment of her position, every faint thrum of the motor vibrating through the cushion, proving her flesh had chosen a path her thoughts frantically sought to deny.

She clutched the steering wheel. Fixed her gaze on the highway. Tallied the passing lamps. Forced her mind toward lesson plans and test timetables... whatever might halt those illicit notions.

Nothing succeeded.

The fire lodged deep in her core like an unquenchable ember, throbbing to a beat unrelated to the vehicle's hum but tied entirely to the spectacle she'd witnessed over the previous half hour.

’I should never have gotten in this car.’

The idea struck keen and sour, directed at herself with the accuracy of someone who'd spent fifteen years listing her own errors.

’I should have called a cab. I should have just said no.’

Yet she hadn't. Now her pride soaked the leather upholstery of a pupil's vehicle.

Her glance strayed to the rearview mirror. Instinct. Urge. That same magnetic force compelling her stare rearward throughout the evening.

Tisha perched on Alex’s lap.

No longer astride him. Simply positioned sideways over his legs, her head lolled on his shoulder, eyes shut, form undulating gently with each road dip.

She appeared as one fully sated, basking in the aftermath like a feline in warm rays... completely oblivious to everything beyond the vehicle's confines.

’This brazen woman.’

Heena's jaw clenched.

She'd lost track of Tisha’s moans... noises that ought to have cracked the windows. Five instances. Perhaps six.

During each, Heena squeezed the wheel till her palms throbbed, a figure clinging white-knuckled to a precipice she'd released long before.

’She doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about her reputation, her career, her professional standing. She just... takes what she wants.’

’And she looks happy.’

The term hit like a pebble in calm waters.

When had Heena last appeared so content? When had her body received such complete devotion that she might shut her eyes and simply inhale?

She drew a blank. The response lurked not in recollection... it was absent entirely.

The highway bent forward. Heena tracked it on autopilot, her grip guiding the wheel as her thoughts smoldered.

’What if I just... let it happen?’

The notion arose unbidden, unstoppable.

She pictured herself in the rear. His palms on her skin. His lips claiming hers. That deliberate, unyielding focus turned upon the frame Howard Sterling had forsaken like a neglected dwelling.

Her legs squeezed shut. The rub against her drenched panties sparked a jolt that locked her fingers harder on the wheel.

’No.’

The denial surged fierce, swift, reflexive... echoing Professor Sterling, Mrs. Howard Sterling, the figure whose self was forged on untarnished integrity.

’No, Heena. You are not this woman. You are not Tisha Wells. You don’t discard years of esteem for intense dark eyes and a skilled tongue. You are married. You are respected. You are... ’

’Alone.’

The softer tone emerged subdued. Serene. No debate. Merely truths unveiled.

’You are alone in a frigid bed each evening. You are alone at staff gatherings while your spouse eyes the crowd for fresh prey. You are alone in your workspace at eight because he fabricated tasks to trap you while he prowled.’

’You have been alone for fifteen years, Heena.’

’What are you preserving yourself for? A husband oblivious to your presence? A union long deceased, merely unentombed?’

She gulped heavily. Her eyes prickled.

’But what if someone finds out?’

’Who?’ the calm tone countered. ’Who would mind? Howard? The fellow likely buried in another female at this moment as you pilot his ride through shadows? The peers already murmuring his indiscretions? The institution ignoring it for a decade due to his funding pulls?’

’Who precisely do you shield, Heena? Him? Or the self-image he demolished ages past?’

’But I c-can’t...’ The spouse's tone mustered once more, clutching for firmness. ’He’s just a student. A boy. He’s half my age. This is insane.’

The calm tone offered no rebuttal. It chuckled. A subdued, weary, compassionate echo within her mind.

’A boy? Who are you fooling, Heena?’

’That "boy" just unraveled a woman with defenses thicker than yours. Disassembled her five times effortlessly. Tisha Wells... the terror of three divisions... now nestles in his lap as if her identity slipped away.’

’Does that resemble a boy?’

Heena's gaze slid to the mirror. Not the furtive peeks of the night. This once, she examined fully. Without denial.

She followed the contour of his jawline... firm, chiseled, stubbled in faint glow. The width of his frame dominating the rear. The limb encircling Tisha with effortless ownership of one never doubting his place. His free palm lay on Tisha’s leg, digits sketching idle, languid loops on her flesh as she slumbered on his torso.

And Tisha... Professor Tisha Wells, the Ice Queen, the unreachable, the authority forged on ironclad, ruthless command... nestled against him like an infant.

Her locks disheveled. Her features lax in profound, limp serenity of one utterly mastered by an expert hand.

This marked the colleague Heena had revered afar for four years. The one Sterling chased fruitlessly for twelve months. The one who humbled pursuing males.

And she purred in a student's embrace like he'd tamed her wild.

’That’s not a boy, Heena,’ the calm tone whispered. ’That’s the man your husband feared. And he was wise to.’

Heena averted from the mirror. Her grip quivered on the wheel. No longer terror. Restraint's strain.

"Stop the car, Heena."

Tisha’s tone... gentle, firm, devoid of prior ragged gasps.

"Huh?" Heena blinked, inner turmoil dispersing like fleeing flock as reality rushed in.

She peered forward... and braked instinctively.

A townhouse loomed ahead. Refined, subtle, flanked by a slim garden trail glowing from one cozy lantern by the entrance. Ivy trailed the bricks in neat, shadowy rows.

Tisha’s residence.

***

Tisha leaned between the front seats, chin nearly on Heena’s shoulder. Near enough for Heena to catch her scent... perspiration, fragrance, and an unnamed essence beneath.

"Looks like the show was a bit too much for my dear friend Heena," Tisha purred, gaze falling to Heena’s pressed thighs, the shake in her steering grip.

She chuckled... rich, inviting, free of malice. The sound of one who knew this sight intimately from experience.

Heena’s cheeks flamed. She fixed on the vine-draped facade, mute.

Tisha eased back. Adjusted her skirt. Located her shoes on the floorboard, donned them with fluid, leisurely poise... each gesture rebuilding the academic she'd shed near Garrison Avenue.

Then she faced Alex.

"I didn’t want to let you go tonight," she murmured softly, fingertips grazing his jaw, angling his visage to meet hers. "But since we have our friend here... I’ll be generous. Just this once."

She claimed his lips. Profound, languid, purposeful... not farewell, but vow that reunion would resume seamlessly.

Up front, Heena observed via mirror. She ordered herself to turn away. Her stare held fast.

Jealousy knotted in her breast like a clenched hand, compressing an unnamed ache.

’If only I had the courage,’ she mused. ’If only I wasn’t so... ’

Tisha ended the kiss. Lingered on his features, thumb stroking his lip, then tidied his collar with brisk affection of habit.

"Goodbye," she uttered. Her gaze flicked... to the mirror, the stiff figure ahead. "I’m leaving Heena in your care tonight."

Silence. Her tone lowered... tender, intentional, charged.

"Take very good care of her."

Heena sensed each syllable imprint her flesh like a touch. Breath halted. Fists balled in lap.

Through the glass, Alex’s eyes met hers. Composed. Measured. That persistent, perceptive tranquility unraveling her nightly.

"I will."

Two syllables. For Tisha. Piercing Heena.

Silence enveloped the car.

Tisha swung the door wide, exited to chill darkness, ascended the path sans glance back. Door yawned, engulfed her, latched.

Now, only two remained.