It’s already gone too far.

But she felt helpless, trapped by the pull of his moist, warm mouth.

While he kissed her, he popped open the next snap of her blouse. And then the next.

Jesus, she thought.

After the last snap came apart, Hal slid his tongue into her mouth and spread her blouse open.

She turned her face away. His tongue came out of her mouth and spread a wet path across her cheek. “I have to go home,” she gasped. “Right now.”

“This is what you’ve been waiting for,” he said, slipping the blouse off her shoulders. She tried to raise her arms, but he pressed them down and pushed the sleeves off. “It’s what we’ve both been waiting for. You know that.”

“No.”

Embracing her, pinning her arms to her sides, he kissed her wet cheek and unclasped the back of her bra.

“No! I mean it!” She squirmed, but he hugged her hard against him.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked. She heard no anger in his voice. He sounded confused, even hurt.

“It’s just not right. You’re a teacher.”

“You’ve been trying your best to seduce me. Well, I’m only human. You’ve won. You’ve got me.”

She struggled in his embrace, but he held her fast.

“There’s no reason to be frightened. Just calm down.”

Lane stopped struggling.

“That’s better. That’s much better.” He relaxed his hold. His hands roamed gently over her bare back. “Doesn’t this feel good?”

“I guess so.”

“You’re a very lucky young lady,” he said. “They allwant me. You know that, don’t you?” His hands slid lower. They rubbed her buttocks. “Every female in that school has the hots for me. But only a lucky few actually getme.”

“I want to go home,” Lane said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Please.”

“I’ll take you home.” He found the button at the hip of her skirt. He opened it and slid the zipper down.

“No!”

“I’ll take you home as soon as we’ve finished.”

The skirt dropped around her feet. He slipped his hands inside the seat of her panties. His fingers kneaded her rump.

“Mr. Kramer, don’t.”

“It’s Hal. Remember?”

He peeled the panties down around her thighs.

“Damn it!” She shoved him.

He stumbled backward and dropped onto a cushion. Sprawled there, he said, “You’re a real disappointment, Lane.”

She bent over. The bra fell away from her breasts, its straps sliding down her arms. She tugged her panties up. Bending lower, the bra drifting down to her wrists, she reached for her skirt. Before she could lift it, Hal stretched out a leg and pinned the skirt to the deck. “Take your foot off.”

His leg jerked back. The skirt, hooked by his heel, tugged sharply at Lane’s boots. Her feet skidded. With a gasp she lurched up straight and waved her arms, flinging her bra through the darkness. Just as she found her balance, Kramer ducked, grabbed the skirt with both hands and yanked it toward him.

Her feet flew out from under her.

“No!” she cried out as she fell.

The edge of a cushion caught her across the rump. Her back slapped the cool surface. She jammed her hands down and pushed herself up.

Kramer stepped between her knees. He grabbed her throat and shoved her down against the pad. With his other hand he punched her just below the sternum.

Pain blasted through Lane’s body. Her breath whooshed out. She wheezed, trying to suck in more, but her lungs didn’t seem to work. Nothing seemed to work. She felt as if her body had exploded apart from the center.

Kramer let go of her throat.

She tried to lift her head but couldn’t.

“You’ll be okay in a minute,” Kramer said, his voice faint through the roaring in her ears. “I hit you in the solar plexus. It’s a nerve ganglion, in case you’re not up on your physiology. Somewhat the equivalent of a man catching one in the nuts. I’m sorry you made me do that to you.”

Lane realized the agony was fading and she could breathe, taking small, painful gulps of air.

“But I’ll do worse,” he said, “if you give me any more trouble.”

She felt one of her boots come off. Then the other. Kramer’s hands moved slowly up her legs.

“We’ll have a long, wonderful relationship, though. In spite of this rather shaky beginning. You’ll see.”

She felt his mouth against the crotch of her panties. She felt his lips and teeth, his squirming tongue. Then his mouth went away. He ripped apart each side of her panties and tugged the remnants of fabric out from under her rump.

“This is what you wanted,” he whispered. She heard a tremor in his voice. “This is what we both want.”

“You’re home,” he said. “Safe and sound. And it isn’t even all that terribly late.”

His words seemed to come from far away.

“Look at me.”

Lane turned her head. Vaguely, she realized that Kramer was smiling.

“You had a wonderful time, didn’t you? I know I did. We’ll do it again, won’t we? Maybe Monday or Tuesday. We’ll work out where and when later. And you’ll be there. Won’t you?”

She managed to nod.

“I didn’t hear that.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I’ll be there.”

“And you’ll never tell a living soul about our little party, will you?”

“No.”

“And what happens if you do?”

“The razor.”

“That’s right.” Kramer patted the pocket of his slacks. “And who gets the razor?”

“My parents. And me.”

“Very good. You’re an excellent student. Now, go on inside your house. Your folks are probably waiting up for you, so you’d better look lively. You’d better put on a good show. If I so much as suspect that you’ve betrayed me, you know what’ll happen.”

“I know.”

“And don’t think the cops can save you. They can’t. Even if they take me in, I’ll be out. You know what bail is.”

“I know.”

“And you know what’ll happen when I get out.”

“I know.”

“Okay. Good night, now, darling.”

She concentrated on her hand, and watched it pull the door lever. The door swung away from her shoulder. She felt a cool wind.

“Sweet dreams,” Kramer said.

Then she was standing on the curb, watching Kramer’s car until it disappeared around the corner. She turned slowly until she was facing the house. Its porch light was on.

How can I pretend?..

She took careful steps toward the house. She felt as if Kramer had shoved a thick branch deep inside her, a branch of embers that any quick motion would set ablaze.

They’ll know something’s wrong, she thought.

I’ll say I got my period.

At the front door she halted under the light and looked down at herself. Her skirt was crooked. She straightened it. She supposed she looked as if nothing had happened. As long as they couldn’t see under the skirt.

Kramer had kept her panties.

A souvenir of our first date, he’d said.

What am I going to do?

She tried to focus her mind.

All that matters right now, she told herself, is getting past Mom and Dad. I can’t let them suspect.

She found her keys, unlocked the door, and stepped slowly over the threshold.

The television was on.

Dad lay on the sofa, snoring.

Mom wasn’t in the room.

Thank God.

Silently, Lane shut the door. She crept past the sofa, out of the living room and into the hallway. “Is that you, honey?” Mom called. Her voice sounded groggy, as if she’d been asleep.

“Yeah.” Fixing a smile on her face, she stepped to the doorway of the master bedroom. Her mother was propped up in bed, an open book resting on her lap.

“How was the play?”

“Pretty good.”

“Did you go somewhere after?”

“Yeah. Mr. Kramer took us all out for pizza.”

“Oh, that was awfully nice of him.” Mom yawned, patted her mouth, and squinted at Lane. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’ve got a miserable headache. And cramps.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Hope it didn’t ruin your time.”