Stirred Up

By Isabel Morin

The last thing Cheryl Munro expects her first day student teaching is the sexy English teacher standing at the front of the classroom. But no matter how charming her new boss is, nothing is going to distract her from her goal – becoming a full-fledged teacher so she can put her years stripping at the Pink Pussycat Gentlemen’s Club behind her.

From the moment Cheryl walks into Jason Shaw’s classroom he has to remind himself she’s off-limits, at least until the semester’s over. But there’s no rule about being friends, and soon the two of them are spending time together after hours, doing their best to ignore their off-the-charts chemistry. He’s a patient man, and some things are worth waiting for.

But Jason’s discovery of the one secret Cheryl was determined to keep shakes both of them and confirms Cheryl’s worst fears. Will Jason be able to win back her trust, or do some scars run too deep?

Stirred Up is a full-length contemporary romance novel. It’s the second book in the Sin City series but can be read alone as well.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Isabel Morin
• Release date: Jul 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301552917

Isabel Morin

Isabel began reading romances at the age of fourteen. That's the year her grandmother came to visit, bringing with her a shopping bag filled with (very tame) Harlequin and Silhouette romance novels. Isabel was immediately and forever hooked. What could be better than experiencing all that lust and new love just by reading a book?She earned her MFA in poetry, but meeting her soon-to-be-husband made her too happy to write her usual melancholy poems. It was time to try her hand at writing the kinds of books she’d been gobbling up for years. Now she writes steamy contemporary romances about men and women discovering their true selves while navigating their way to great sex and true love.In her spare time, Isabel watches British mysteries, plays disc golf (it’s a thing), and religiously re-watches Dirty Dancing. She lives in Connecticut with her conveniently tall, dark, and handsome husband.

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Stirred Up

Isabel Morin

Copyright 2013 by Isabel Morin

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition

For Michael, always.

My sincere thanks to Abigail Strom for being a critique partner extraordinaire, Katy Wight for designing the cover, Alexandra Mandzak, Vristen Pierce, Audrey Berns and my mother for their editorial help, and Joe and Amy Canata for answering my questions about teaching. It takes a village.

Chapter One

Cheryl Munro sat in her little red Miata, breathing deeply as she tried to get up the nerve to enter Henderson High. If the girls at the club could see her now, they’d keel over with amazement, or maybe laughter.

She was a stripper, for God’s sake. She wasn’t afraid to take her clothes off and dance in front of hundreds of people, so surely teaching a bunch of high school students wasn’t beyond her?

At this point it didn’t matter whether she was ready or not. She needed to get out of the car before she was late. Checking her reflection one last time in the visor mirror, she grabbed her messenger bag and headed for the front doors of the ugly stucco building.

It was too early for any students, but a few other adults were heading to the door as well. Cheryl smiled at them and hoped she didn’t look as conspicuous as she felt. Could they tell by looking at her that she was new to all this?

Get a grip, Munro, she ordered herself. You can do this.

The trick was not to let on how nervous she was, or how lacking in confidence. That would just make others question her competence.

She pulled open one of the heavy glass doors and held it for the person behind her, a smiling woman in her mid-fifties with warm eyes.

Are you a new substitute? the woman asked as they both passed into the foyer.

I’m doing my field hours here this semester, Cheryl explained.

Oh, how wonderful, the teacher exclaimed. I’ve had a number of Nevada State students in my classes over the years and I’ve always enjoyed it. Who are you partnered with?

Jason Shaw.

You’re in luck then. He’s one of our best. Lots of energy, too. Not like us old folks.

That’s really good to hear, since I’m pretty much at his mercy for the semester. Can you tell me where his room is?

Head up that staircase and turn right. His room is just a few doors down on the left. Number two-twelve.

Cheryl thanked her with perhaps too much enthusiasm and then followed the woman’s directions, her feet slowing as she neared the classroom. The door was open, the light on, and she could hear the unmistakable sounds of someone writing on a chalkboard.

God, she loved that sound. When she was a kid, she’d sat through every class hoping the teacher would let her write on the board. For her ninth birthday she’d received a child-sized chalkboard they sold at the local toy store. But the chalk wasn’t the same. Instead of the silky smooth writing of the school chalk, the toy chalk had hard bits that made it move haltingly over the board. Whenever she’d played school, using her teacher voice as she lectured one of her friends, the chalk always reminded her it wasn’t the real thing.

She smiled at the thought of how much money it was costing her in tuition just to get the good chalk. Then she got a look at Jason Shaw through the doorway and all thoughts of childish frustrations evaporated.

This was the teacher she was partnered with? Since when did hotties become high school teachers?

She stared at him as he stood in front of the blackboard, frowning down at a piece of paper in his hand. He looked to be around thirty, tall and lean, his blue button-down short-sleeve shirt revealing strong forearms, his khaki pants displaying long legs and a fine ass.

For some reason it had never occurred to her that her supervising teacher might be this young, not to mention unmarried, if his ringless finger was any indication. Probably most women would be thrilled, but not her. Even men who should know better ended up hitting on her, and her stomach sank at the thought of having to deal with that on top of everything else this semester.

The object of her disappointment looked up as she took a few steps into the room, surprise and then pleasure showing on his face. Wiping the chalk on his pants, he walked toward her with an easy stride.

Cheryl Munro?

His eyes were a warm brown, and they crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her. The unforced charm took her by surprise.

She cleared her throat. Yes, that’s me. It’s good to meet you, she said, shaking his hand firmly in an effort to telegraph that she was all business and not to be trifled with.

Come on in and we’ll get started.

***

Jason tried to cover his amazement as he showed Cheryl around. It was a bit harder to do once he’d pulled a chair next to his desk and they were sitting down.

So this is your second semester in a school, is that right? he asked.

He knew for a fact it was, but it seemed easier for the moment to start off with the simple stuff. She seemed pretty nervous, and he was a little taken aback himself. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t someone who looked like her. What were the students going to make of having such a beautiful woman in the classroom?

Yes, that’s right, she replied, seeming to relax a bit. But the last semester was purely observational, so I’m looking forward to the hands-on experience.

You’ll definitely have plenty of that. Our classes keep ballooning in size, so it’ll be a big help to have you around.

He grabbed a folder off the desk.

You speak Spanish, right? he asked.

Yes. I’m not completely fluent yet but I’m comfortable with native speakers.

Great. I have a few Spanish-speaking kids, so you’ll be a big help with them. I can’t always tell when they don’t understand me and most of them don’t speak up when they’re confused.

She leaned forward, her green eyes, which tilted up just a bit, holding him in her gaze.

That’s exactly why I decided to keep up with my Spanish, she said. No one wants to pay for special classes for these kids, but that only sets them up to fail in English-only classes.

Her cautious demeanor was gone now, replaced by obvious passion. In fact, she radiated it. Then she seemed to realize how forceful she’d been, and she blushed and sat back, subsiding into a more reserved pose.

According to the file he had, she was twenty-six, though she was so small – no more than five foot two – it would have been easy to mistake her for younger. She wore a simple black skirt and royal blue blouse, the kind of thing any teacher might wear. Her red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and if she were wearing make-up, it wasn’t noticeable. He got the sense she was trying to tone her looks down, but even so everything about her was startling, begging notice.

Unlike many redheads, she had fair skin with only the lightest smattering of gold freckles across her nose and cheekbones. Her cheekbones followed the line of her eyes, making her look faintly exotic, like one of those troublesome faeries in Scottish stories. And she was Scottish. She had to be with hair that red and a name like Munro.

He felt the slightest stirring in his groin and immediately turned back to the file, though he wasn’t really seeing it.

I couldn’t agree more, he said, though in truth he’d forgotten exactly what they were talking about.

He opened his lesson plan and pulled it close so that she could see it as well, trying not to think about how good she smelled, or how inviting her wide, lush mouth looked, especially when she nibbled on it.

She crossed her legs and leaned forward, her arm brushing his.

So you’ll be here Tuesdays through Fridays?

Cheryl nodded. I need to get as many hours in as possible, because I graduate this semester. I’m hoping I can teach in the spring, if I pass the Praxis exam.

In that case we’ll make sure you get lots of time in front of the students. We’ll start this week with you observing, but we’ll discuss the lesson planning together and you can help me grade. Next week you can start teaching a few classes, and after a month we’ll have you teach at least one class a day. How does that sound?

That sounds perfect, she said, and he couldn’t help smiling at her excitement.

It was nearly seven-thirty, and the usual din began in the hallways. Locker doors slammed, kids shouted, and soon they began filing into the room and slouching into their seats. Most of them had their phones out and were busy surfing or texting. He let them do it in homeroom, but he had a no-tolerance policy during class.

The bell rang and he closed the door. Kids were talking amongst themselves, but a number of them were looking at Cheryl and whispering. Before he could explain who she was, Kevin, a good-natured loudmouth, called out.

Hey Mr. Shaw, who’s that? Your girlfriend?

The whole class erupted in laughter and all eyes were on him and Cheryl. Well, he’d blown that one. He ought to have quieted them down and explained immediately.

This is Ms. Munro. She’ll be here every Tuesday through Friday for the rest of the semester. She’ll be helping students one on one as well as teaching. Everyone settle down now so I can take attendance.

They were a decent bunch of kids and quieted down quickly enough, though they kept looking over at her and whispering to each other. He’d have to do a better job the rest of the day so the students weren’t so distracted. Even so, it would probably take a few days of having her around for them to get accustomed to her presence.

As for how long it would take him, he had no idea.

***

So her mentor was a fox. Big deal. She was totally immune to men and their supposed charms, so it wouldn’t affect her in the least. A girl couldn’t strip for four years and still go all gooey about men. Which was why she was so annoyed with how her heart sped up when he smiled at her. It was ridiculous.

Probably every female student, and some of the male ones, were crushed out on him. She sat at the back of the classroom in order to observe the whole class – and be less of a distraction – and by third period he’d confirmed her impressions of him. He was articulate, funny, and excited about what he was teaching. He even made diagramming sentences seem more like a fun puzzle to be solved than a chore.

There was a reason women always fell for their English teachers. Teaching English made men seem sensitive, caring and emotionally intelligent. She’d once thought all those things, only her crush had been a sexy grad student teaching the required composition course her first year of college.

Good thing she knew better now. No doubt Jason Shaw was a decent guy, but men were never as sensitive or caring as they first seemed. There was nothing wrong with a little fantasizing, so long as the girls didn’t let it get out of hand, but she had no business thinking about him that way, not if she wanted to actually learn something this semester. Straightening in her chair, she tuned back in to his discussion of the basic structure of an essay.

She spent the day like a fly on the wall, glad she wasn’t expected to do anything. Even just observing left her overwhelmed by how much she had to learn. When the final bell rang she slumped in her seat with a deep sigh.

Okay so far? he asked, sitting down at his desk.

Embarrassed, she jumped out of her seat. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she couldn’t handle the first day.

I’m fine, thanks, she said, walking over to him. Slightly overwhelmed, but in a good way.

Any questions? he asked, pulling a pile of what looked like quizzes toward him.

No, but don’t worry, I won’t be shy. I’m sure I’ll have plenty before long.

Fair enough, he smiled, then rubbed his eyes. I think I need some coffee before I dig into these.

Cheryl stepped back as he stood up, even though she was already a few feet away from him. Why did he make her so nervous?

She cleared her throat. Can I help you with anything? she asked.

Not this time around, but tomorrow will probably be another story, he said, his eyes warm on her. Enjoy your freedom now.

You’re a terrific teacher, she blurted. I’m looking forward to working with you.

It was pretty much out of nowhere, so no wonder he looked surprised. She blushed, her own eagerness embarrassing her. She sounded like a twelve-year-old.

He smiled, his handsome face softening into boyish delight. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to spend every day waiting for him to smile at her like that.

I’m looking forward to it as well, he said, holding her gaze.

She stood there, frozen for several seconds, before turning and hurrying out of the room and away from the one man who could apparently turn her into a blithering idiot.

Luckily, she managed not to do anything embarrassing that week. Her only job was to sit and observe, which she did until her head ached, but Jason was good, better than the teacher she’d observed last semester, and watching him wasn’t exactly a chore.

She stuck around Wednesday and Thursday afternoon to go over lessons for the next week, plan which classes she’d teach and help grade papers. By the time Friday afternoon came around, she’d figured out that Jason was a supremely mellow guy. Nothing seemed to rattle him, which was one of the reasons he was so good at what he did. He cared, but he didn’t get stressed. Definitely something to strive for, though some of that would come only with experience.

At four o’clock on Friday, Jason leaned back in his chair and stretched. That’s enough for this week. Let’s get out of here.

Cheryl tore her gaze away from where his shirt had ridden up, briefly exposing the ridged muscle of his abdomen. She stood up so quickly her chair fell over.

Sounds good, she said, righting her chair and praying he wouldn’t notice her blush.

Jason turned off the lights and together they walked outside, wished each other a good weekend, and walked to opposite sides of the parking lot. She got all the way to the car without looking back at him, and then the growl of an engine had her turning around.

She was just in time to watch Jason ride away from the school on a motorcycle. Like he needed to be sexier, for God’s sake.

She was still trying not to think about Jason when she unlocked her apartment door and stepped into the heavenly air conditioning. It was four-thirty. The question was, how did she go from worn-out student teacher to sex kitten stripper in the next two hours?

Hopefully the change of costume would help. Superman needed his tights and cape, and she needed…her thong?

Someday she wouldn’t have to strip, but she wasn’t getting paid for her teaching, and she still had bills to pay, not to mention her two Monday classes. Four years was way too long to be stripping, but the money was so good it was hard to let go of. And when she finally quit to teach full-time, she’d be debt free. Not many students could say that these days.

After a quick sandwich in front of the TV, she grabbed her duffel bag and made the twenty-minute drive from Henderson to Vegas, where the Pink Pussycat Gentlemen’s Club sat right on the Strip.

Gentlemen, my ass, she muttered to herself as she walked under the sign.

She’d been there so long that Steve, the manager, let her shuffle her schedule every semester. For the next few months she’d be working the six o’clock to two a.m. shift Fridays and Saturdays. Weekends were the best for making money, but it would leave her without a single day off all week. Worse, she already felt like she had two personalities – Ms. Munro, earnest teacher versus the big-haired vixen, Cherry.

Making her way through the club with quick greetings to the bouncers and hostess, she entered the dressing room.

Hey, teach!

Hey, yourself, she answered, giving Emily Chase a hug.

So how did it go? Emily asked, turning back to her warm-up.

Cheryl plopped into one of the armchairs and watched her, mesmerized as usual by the effortless flow of her movements. A ballerina until she’d been injured the year before, Emily warmed-up as she always did, her motions smooth and controlled. As if she were at a barre in a studio rather than a cluttered dressing room with chattering strippers running in and out. She was the definition of class even when she took off her clothes.

Cheryl sighed, wishing she had that effortless confidence in herself.

Okay, I think. I’ll actually get to work with the kids this time, and the teacher I’m partnered with seems really good.

She opened her mouth to tell Emily about Jason Shaw, and then stopped herself, unsure what she wanted to say.

Emily glanced over at her.

What’s with the pensive frown?

What? Nothing, she said, waving her hand dismissively.

Emily continued to look at her with her x-ray eyes.

It’s no big deal, Cheryl said, throwing her arms up in the air. He’s not what I expected, that’s all.

Standing up, she opened her bag and began pulling out the stuff for her first set.

What do you mean? Emily asked.

Cheryl shrugged and kept her face