Looking for love, Moriel Reis finds it─but why here?
A professional teacher by day, Moriel learns that students can sometimes be the best teachers. Eighteen-year-old Scott Cooper and Itsuma Karter, two of his students share similar interests—including lust for each other. Emotions flare when Itsuma challenges “Mr. Reis’s” authority.
After Moriel harshly disciplines Itsuma in front of the entire class, the young student vows to regain a piece of his wounded pride back. Torn by loyalty for his smoldering friend and classmate, Scott Cooper watches his homeroom teacher with dreamy, lust-filled eyes.
The heated conflict begins a fiery battle between Itsuma and his teacher. As this passion translation becomes a lustful tale, a surprising ‘hot for teacher’ story becomes a love affair, and a passionate adventure.
This out of the ordinary exploration for the two students allows them entrance into a world of erotic confessions, taking them on a journey into the velvet art of seduction that begins when the fighting ends. But as their taboo sexual persuasions beckon for something more, in lies the question… do two wrongs make a right?
Moriel, Scott, and Itsuma learn the answer.
Seducing Sensei Book Trailer
Reviews for Seducing Sensei
☆☆☆☆☆ Seducing Sensei- Naughty!
Seducing Sensei is a very erotic novel, so be mentally prepared before reading it. It is based on a gay theme but the presentation leans towards light-hearted.
☆☆☆☆☆ A great plot, great characters, a powerful conflict
A great plot, great characters, a powerful conflict, and a satisfying end.
☆☆☆☆ Great Book
I found the story was very well written and author did a wonderful job with the descriptions throughout the book and her overall ability to pull the reader in, was exceptional. The topic of abuse comes up through the book, and I believe the author did a wonderful job with the discussion and the way each situation was worded. Overall it was a great book.
Excerpt from Seducing Sensei
Of all the schools to substitute teach, coming back to my own high school was a surprise. Now, at twenty-three, it felt strange wearing my best Oxford shoes, Nordstrom slacks, and Calvin Klein button-up shirt and tie in the hallways of my old stomping ground.
What was freakier was my old shop teacher smiling at me from down the crowded hall. This time, I wasn’t his student, but a fellow teacher. Mr. Goyas was a bear of a man. Height-wise my old shop teacher was larger than any of the students. His vertical stature only served to make him stand out even more.
Mr. Goyas waved me down from across the hall of passing students. Old habits overcame my sense. My cheeks warmed a little. Like a puppy, I wagged my proverbial tail and rushed right over to him. I’d liked him even way back, when I took his class. But I wouldn’t dare tell him that.
“Hey, Mori,” Mr. Goyas said. “Thanks for letting me borrow these.” He returned the red-handled pair of wire cutters I’d given him. For a brief, fleeting moment his fingers brushed my palm. My heart gave a thump. Oh, stop that. He’s married. Meaning, Mr. Goyas was straight. Not gonna happen.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Didn’t think I’d have to loan out my cutters. Especially to the mechanics specialist.”
Mr. Goyas laughed. “Mine keep getting swiped. I had to pocket yours so they wouldn’t get taken.”
His deep, slow-cadent chuckle reverberated inside me down to my toes. “Oh, I see how it is,” I said. “You just want to get to know my wire cutters better. You haven’t changed.” Shit. Stop flirting. I really must get a boyfriend. Chastity was a bitch I wanted to break up with in the worst way.
Mr. Goyas ruffled my brown hair. The ends of my strands tickled my thin chin-strap beard.
“Hey!” I combed fingers through my brown shoulder-length locks. “I’m not your student anymore. Give me some respect.”
He shook his head and chuckled. “How are those seniors treating you?”
Ugh. He had to remind me. Most the students were fine. Only one gave me problems. “They’re okay.” I shrugged off the reminder of Itsuma.
“Don’t let ‘em get the better of you.” Mr. Goyas patted my head. “It might be summer make-ups, but that’s no reason to be soft on ‘em.”
“Riiight.” I waved at him to stop touching my hair. Mr. Goyas, being a shop teacher, taught the fun classes. Every guy wanted to take wood-working or metal shop. His class was perfect for those who wanted a few extra points to make sure they graduated. On the other hand, teaching algebra to a bunch of kids who didn’t want to be wasting their summer on math was a challenge.
“Maybe next time you can teach gym.” He smirked.
“Not gonna happen.” I’d only taken this gig as a favor to my dad, who was friends with Principal Ellis—the head of this fine school. “I’ll be teaching as an assistant professor at CIT after the summer.”
“Congratulations.” The warning bell sounded and Mr. Goyas turned and waved. “Thanks again.”
Like a dolt, I just stared at his backside mentally drooling while he walked away. Snap out of it, Mori.
Cerilia High School was going to kill me.
This place didn’t have bad memories, just lonely ones. My old friends would be surprised if they knew that’s how I felt, but it was true. When I was a pupil here, for all I knew, I was the only gay student on campus. At the time I was co-captain of the wrestling team and, with one exception, I didn’t say a word about my attraction to men. Everyone blamed my virginity on the fact that I was a raving study freak.
I made up for lost time chasing boys in college. Didn’t matter if they were gay, curious straights or dedicated bisexuals. Anything male was fair game. While experimenting, I found out I was a top, a bottom and everything in between. On the downside I could not get it up for girls in any way, shape or form. But that was okay. I’d already accepted it back in junior high and moved on. College was fun, and I was glad to have gotten the crazy sex out of my system, because I was teaching now. Time to settle down, find a good man and concentrate on work.
Sighing, I pocketed my wire cutters, turned down the hall and went to my classroom. Mr. Goyas brightened my dismay. I wasn’t looking forward to homeroom. The reason—Itsuma Karter. My personal hellion and troublemaker, class clown, ring leader, jailbait agitator. Well, he was technically legal, but trouble all the same.
The bell rang and Itsuma strolled in like a tomcat who’d been laid the night before. Jealous much? I sighed.
Itsuma was wearing his infuriating iPod earplugs while in class. Again. For the past week I’d been asking him to leave the MP3 player in his bag. School rules dictated that any devices were to be shut off during school hours. I was within my rights to yell at him for breaking the policy, but I didn’t care during homeroom, usually.
Smoothing down my imperial mustache, I started roll call.
“Lori Rogers,” I said.
I went down, concentrating on the list. Granted, I must have sounded like a bored baby sitter, but the difference between here and university was a world of difference. Especially in student attitude. College at least had some students with a semblance of paying attention.
“Itsuma Karter,” I said.
I kept my eyes on the roster, trying not to lose my place on the list. I wasn’t great at names and faces. Something I was trying to work on.
No answer. I looked up. Itsuma’s hand was propped under his chin while he stared out the window.
Damn it. Yes, I knew he was here. Yes, I should let it go. But the blatant disrespect made my shit flip. “Itsuma?” Just fucking answer.
Across the way, in the seat next to him, Scott Cooper waved at his classmate, trying to gain his attention. Itsuma even ignored his friend. That was it. Who did he think he was? Why the fuck was it so hard to just respond to a roll call? Hell, right now, I’d even take an “up yours” as an answer. And I hated losing my place on the roster.
“Itsuma!” Standing up, I rounded my desk, put my hands in my pockets and made my way towards my problem child. Students leaned away from me as I barreled down the aisle.
iPod in hand, Itsuma continued to stare outside, acting like he didn’t see me. If he thought he could act like a prick and then turn innocent and gracious like he did yesterday, he was in for a surprise.
I pulled the wire cutters out of my pocket, snipped the cord and snatched the MP3 player out of his hand.
Itsuma jerked his head, and in that split-second I saw the molten hate within his pupils. I expected him to scream back, call me nasty names and threaten me with bodily harm. He did nothing but sit there. The darkness in his expression chilled. Fast as a flick he smiled like everything was okay.
“Itsuma Karter,” I said. “At least respond to your name.”
“Yes, Mr. Reis. Sorry about that.” Itsuma batted his eyelashes.
Not buying it. His blasé faire attitude made me want to smack him. Was he just going to pretend everything was hunky-dory even though I’d annihilated his personal property? The school allowed confiscating electronic items. Destroying them—not so much.
I’d never yelled at a student before. Granted, I’d only been substituting for the last week, but I never raised my voice, even back when my wrestling teammates were screwing around and cost us a victory.
Itsuma was the first person that got under my skin. What was I doing? Trying to start a fight?
I walked back to my desk, dropped both the cutters and the iPod mess in my desk drawer and finished roll call. Other than responses of “present” or “here” the class was dead silent. No clicks. No sounds of fingers tapping on phones they shouldn’t be on. No socializing. No scratching of pens on paper. No desperate attempts to finish last night’s homework. I might even dare say some students were making a valiant effort not to breathe. Shit. I was so fired. Fucking Itsuma. Why did I snap like that?
When I was done with roll call I met those chilled, narrowed, dark eyes and said, “You can retrieve your things at the end of school.”
“Thank you, Sensei.” Itsuma smiled like a shark. His tone of voice implied anything except respect.
We would have a chat after school if he had the guts to get his stuff. Maybe by then I could pinpoint exactly what made me go ballistic on the kid.
After homeroom, I calmed down. I felt like a heel. A part of me was angry at myself for losing it. That wasn’t like me. Voted as most laid-back eight years ago, at this very school, there wasn’t much that could get me to blow a cork.
To redeem myself I ran over to the nearest electronics store during break and bought a replacement for Itsuma’s broken earphones. I got him a matching color for his iPod. Metallic blue. After lunch, I hadn’t given the scene much thought until, at around three o’clock, both Itsuma and Scott Cooper walked into my classroom.
My little troublemaker owned the space when he walked in. One might have mistaken him for a Japanese prince of some small, unknown province. Only royalty of a tiny country would have that much self-admiration. Don’t hurt yourself squeezing your ego inside the room.
Standing with feet firmly placed as if he were on the first-place winner’s podium stand, Itsuma exuded energy and confidence. I glanced at him with what I hoped was my best disparaging look.
Behind him, Scott Cooper twirled a wrangler’s rope with expert precision. The loop circled Scott in meticulous up-and-down motions. He danced a cowboy’s jig with the rope as if he’d been born to raise cattle. With those boots, jeans, button shirt and cowboy hat he should be on the back of a horse, not in a classroom. Bringing in the rope was odd, but hell if I knew what high school kids liked these days.
Scott looked at me with those beautiful green eyes, effortlessly continuing his rope hopscotch. Those eyes weren’t those of a child, but of a man who’d seen a lifetime of evil and decided he was here to save everyone. It was heart shattering to look into his soul, and yet, Scott instilled hope in my heart. Like a survivor, he threw off an air that people could overcome the worst of times. As if he were living proof.
In contrast, Itsuma’s inflated ego and Cheshire smile set off all my warning bells. I wasn’t afraid. Inwardly, I was reprimanding the chubby that sprang as soon as the duo stepped across the threshold of my classroom. I’d waited way too long to find a partner. Maybe after this I’d go to the bar to relax. Find someone to help keep my head on around this jailbait of mine. That was it… I just needed to let out this frustration.
I stood, pulled out my drawer of no-no’s and set out Itsuma’s iPod on my desk. Then I placed the two pieces of his headphones next to the small chunk of metal.
“If I take this again,” I said, “you’re not getting it back.” I pulled out the new package of earbuds and set them next to his equipment.
Itsuma picked up the unopened accessory, then laughed like I’d told the best joke he’d ever heard. “Sensei, you sly fox.”
The sound of his mirth tickled my heart. Craptastic.
Itsuma wiped the amused tear under his eye and said, “I was wondering why a math teacher would have wire cutters in his pocket. You planned this from the start.”
“What? No!” Had I? “I bought the new headphones at break.” I thought the gesture would soothe any harsh words he might throw my way. “The wire cutters were just coincidence.”
Scott stopped his deliberation, folded up the lasso and sat on one of the student desk tops. Pull up a chair and some popcorn. This should be a fun show, cowboy.
“Thank you for replacing my property, but I want something for my pride.” Itsuma twirled the package and tossed it on my desk.
My mouth ran off before I could think. “Great. The high and mighty emperor gets ass-hurt for being called out for his lousy attitude.”
“Scott,” Itsuma said. Molten lava burned in The Prince’s eyes. “Close the doors.”
The cowboy stiffened and stood up. “Zuma, come on, man.”
Something about Scott’s plea heated my blood. He might have been speaking to his friend, but it was almost as if he were telling me to run.
“No,” Itsuma said. “I won’t be humiliated. I want a piece of my honor back.”
Japanese and their honor. No out for me. That was fine. Let’s go.