Page 1 of Make You Mine

1

MADELYN

PRESENT- 25 YEARS OLD

I let a man have me at his mercy once, and I’ll never make that mistake again.

That’s to say I get it. I’m a dark romance girl. A proud member of the masked men thirst trap fan club. I’ve done my fair share of drooling over fictional characters and thrown my dignity out the window more often than not.

But I’ve never seen my coworkers act this way.

And not just any coworkers. Our most senior teachers, two women who are probably my grandmothers’ age, if I were to have one, are putting dogs in heat to shame.

Hannah and I, the only other teacher my age and my one friend, are sitting in the teacher’s lounge with our lunch, enjoying the show unfolding before us.

“Have you seen the new teacher?” one woman murmurs to the other.

“He’s so hot.”

“I’d so take some of his workload if he asked me.”

“I heard he’s the P.E. teacher, so no workload for him, honey. Just a lot of sweaty kids.”

“I’d willingly let him make me sweat,” the first woman says.

“You sweat going from one corner of the room to the other, doubt it’d take much effort.” The second woman laughs. “I heard he’ll be the new hockey coach, too. Should we ask to be his puck bunnies?”

“Oh, Berta!” her friend slaps her arm. “We’re too old for that.”

“Age is just a number.”

The two women giggle amongst themselves.

Hannah’s holding back from bursting into laughter, while I’m masking my expression way better than I thought I would.

“There’s no way he’s that hot,” I whisper to her.

Hannah agrees—and that’s why we’re friends. That, and our love for smutty books.

“I guess we’ll find out when we meet him,” she says, rolling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger.

“Mark my words, he’s not going to top any of our book boyfriends.”

“You think?” Hannah giggles. “I mean, at least he’s real. He’s got that going for him.”

“Nothing a little imagination and a toy can’t help with.” My voice is low and I feel my cheeks flush.

Not that I’m embarrassed about using toys for my own pleasure or anything.

Every woman should, and they help satisfy ourselves more easily than men do.

I’m an advocate. But I don’t want our coworkers to imagine things.

“You’re not wrong there.” Hannah nods. “I do love my big purple boy at home.”

“Sounds like you’re talking about an alien or a beast of some sort, not your vibe.”

“Who knows. Maybe I have both at home.” Hannah winks at me.