Duality by Charlene Namdhari

Two sides of a coin can never be equal despite belonging to the same body’

When my mother prostituted me to the Winthrop brotherhood, I wasn’t expecting my party of one to be anything but old.
Dark hair, green eyes, and an arrogant smirk for miles, the mysterious man was chiseled perfection from that clenched jaw down to his Tom Ford lace-ups.
An hour with him was, let’s just say the cream on his thirty-five-year birthday cake wasn’t the only thing he was licking. A dream come true for any seventeen-year-old and one I’d never see again.
That’s what I thought until a new teacher walked into the room at my school, a month later.
My reaction: ‘Holy shit.’
That’s until my father invited said teacher, apparently his old friend, to dinner.
My reaction: ‘God, help me.’
Because Saint Sinclair is still a mystery. This time, the forbidden kind I want to indulge in, no matter the repercussions.
“I’m a good girl who wants to do bad things but only with you, sir.”