She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother Chapter 379: Mrs. Sterling(1)

Heena observed Tisha strolling along the garden path, her steps deliberate and relaxed. The stride of a lady with no further need to hurry, as the night had already granted her all she desired.

Tisha stopped at the door, her palm on the knob. Then she glanced back toward the car.

Their gazes connected across the windshield.

Tisha grinned. Not the shattered, panting smile from the backseat. A gentler one. More affectionate. Like a companion entrusting her friend to capable care.

She silently formed one word: ’Enjoy.’

Next, she winked, twisted the handle, and vanished indoors.

’This woman,’ Heena mused, her jaw clenching. ’This utterly brazen, outrageous woman.’

The front door latched with a click. The garden light bathed the vacant path in soft illumination. Heena remained solitary in the vehicle, still carrying the aroma of the night's events.

She stayed seated, hands folded in her lap, fixated on the shut door, hoping Tisha would emerge and rescue her from the impending moment.

Tisha stayed gone.

Now alone with him in the car... the hunter.

Her glance shifted to the rearview mirror... that same cursed habit plaguing her throughout the night... only to discover him staring directly at her.

Heena averted her eyes so abruptly her neck stung.

Her pulse thundered in her chest. Fingers scrambled for the key — ’ignite the engine, drive away, deliver him home, end this night, just —’

A click sounded.

The rear door swung open.

She stiffened, hand suspended above the ignition, breath trapped midway.

She heard his exit. Gravel crunching softly underfoot. Door shutting. Footsteps... calm, leisurely... advancing beside the vehicle.

Heading her way.

’Oh no. No, no, no. Why him... where to...’

Thoughts raced chaotically. Glancing at herself sparked renewed alarm.

Tremors shook her legs... a clear quiver in her thighs she couldn't suppress despite squeezing them tight.

During the ride, her skirt had hiked up, fabric wrinkled and gathered, revealing a tale she wished unseen.

The seat below was wet.

Proof of her sensations, her observations, her body's unwilling reactions, seeped into the leather like an irreversible admission.

’He’ll notice it. He’ll settle in, sense it, and grasp precisely what I... ’

’Steady yourself, Heena.’ She imposed the order amid mental chaos. ’He’s merely a pupil. You’re the instructor. Behave accordingly.’

She yanked her skirt hem downward, clamped her knees shut. Shifted toward the door, away from the passenger side, as though slight separation could obliterate the leather's secret.

The passenger door swung open.

Chilly night breeze rushed inside. Along with it came the fresh, heated aroma she’d inhaled via the mirror all evening... now immediate, tangible, undiluted by barriers.

Alex slid into the adjacent seat. Shut the door.

The interior felt halved in space.

He sat right beside her. No longer rearward. No mere image.

Right there... near enough to note the subtle jaw stubble, his even breathing, hands poised calmly on his legs like one who never fussed.

Heena fixed her stare forward. On the ivy. On the garden light. On anything save the man mere inches away.

Her heartbeat pounded so fiercely she swore he could detect it.

***

Alex claimed the passenger seat effortlessly... unapologetic, unhurried, like the spot awaited him.

His eyes fixed on her, not the street.

He sensed her shaking. The stiff posture. The clenched jaw. Her white-knuckled hold on the wheel despite the stationary car.

How she twisted toward the door, as if that gap could reverse the past hour’s impact.

He read her instantly. Not one to initiate.

Unlike Tisha... fearless, insistent, seizing desires and defying judgment. Heena burned quietly, yearning to be discovered.

He refused to let her depart undiscovered.

"Let’s go, Mrs. Sterling," he said, tone airy, nearly offhand. He reclined and grinned. "Mr. Sterling must be waiting for you."

The name struck its target precisely.

Heena’s grip blanched on the wheel. Jaw locked harder.

Raw emotion flickered across her features. Something icy. Hardened by fifteen years of vacant beds, perfunctory pecks, and scents not hers.

The engine stayed silent.

Quiet lingered. Then, head unmoved, her words emerged... soft, restrained, directed at the glass.

"How long?"

Alex eyed her silhouette. The taut neckline. Her pre-question swallow.

"How long what?" he replied, fully aware of her intent.

Heena’s fingers eased on the wheel. Clenched anew. She gathered courage visibly... akin to scaling her own barrier.

"Your... Your things. With Tisha. How long has it been?"

Silence from him. Instead, he pivoted slowly, purposefully... letting his look roam her form. Openly. Methodically.

He examined her neck’s arch, shoulder strain, rapid shallow breaths belying her poise.

Heena sensed his stare as tangible pressure. Heat climbed her neck, flushed her face; she clutched the wheel fiercer to cling to her facade.

"What do you mean, Mrs. Sterling?" He queried, voice laced with playful warmth turning the title intimate. "Why are you acting like a teenage girl?"

Her head whipped to him. Eyes flared. Lips parted. Blush shifted from shame to fury.

"You’re a married woman, Mrs. Sterling," he went on, manner breezy, casual, like idle chat. "Asking a student about his personal life in a parked car at ten o’clock at night. What would the faculty think?"

Playful phrasing. Intense eyes. Beneath grin and jest, his steady knowing gaze pinned hers... revealing her true query. Not Tisha. His availability. Both aware.

Heena looked away first. Her face scorched, pulse roaring in ears.

"I meant your relationship with Tisha," she stated, voice sharpening to crisp authority... Professor Sterling’s timbre.

"You mean," Alex murmured lowly, languidly, "how long I’ve been fucking Tisha. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Sterling?"

The vulgarity exploded in the confined space.

Heena’s facade... fragile, fractured remnant gripped all evening... crumbled utterly.

"How dare you," she spat, whirling with rage mostly feigned, partly stunned. Eyes ablaze, bosom surging, full professorial command unleashed.

"She is a professor. Your professor. A woman who has given years of her life to this institution, and you... you sit there and speak about her like she’s some... some..."

Words failed. The needed term was his, unsayable for her.

"This is wrong," she insisted, tone quivering. "This is a violation of every professional boundary that exists. You are a student. She is your academic superior. This kind of relationship is..."

"Taboo?" Alex suggested, head cocked.

"Yes," Heena retorted. "Taboo. Unacceptable. Forbidden."

Alex regarded her. Smirk steady. He allowed her outburst to linger... indignant, vehement, empty... before responding.

"Are you jealous, Mrs. Sterling?"

Three words. Uttered coolly, sans anger, sans spite, sans dignifying her ire. A plain query from one holding the truth.

Heena’s lips parted, shut, voiceless.