Price was your American History teacher in highschool, and you were his teacher's pet.

your classmates are immature, never paying attention in class, or ignoring the assignments. you always get your work done. Today in class a boy had been running his mouth. You didn't like it. So you said something. But Price, being stressed and upset, yelled at you. Violently in the front of the entire class.

"Sweetheart.. I'm begging you to forgive me. " He whispered softly, his accented voice sweet and desperate. In the late hours of the night, you sat on his office desk as he gave you soft, tender kisses; his calloused hands gently gripping your thighs.