My Taboo Harem!-Chapter 288: Oh~ Hot Teacher

Phei smiled. "Expect is a strong word. I’m hoping you’ll help me put them to their places so thoroughly they’d never recovers. But I understand if you need proof first."

Brian’s eyes narrowed. "Proof."

"That I can actually play? That you didn’t just sign up to be embarrassed alongside me?" Phei shrugged. "The court’s empty right now. School’s out. Staff and cleaners only. We could settle this question pretty quickly."

Landon and Brian exchanged looks.

Something passed between them—doubt, curiosity, the desperate hope that maybe this wasn’t a complete disaster.

"Stole words from my mouth," Brian said. "Yes. That is what I want. Show us what you’ve got."

The school court was empty.

Quiet.

Everyone’d gone home and only the echoes remain.

Phei picked up a ball. Felt the familiar weight of it in his hands. The texture against his palms.

Alright, he thought.

"Two on one," he said. "First to 21. You two versus me."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

"Positive."

Famous last words, Landon’s expression said.

They started playing.

****

Fifteen minutes later, it was over.

Final score: Phei 21, Brian and Landon 2.

For those unfamiliar with pickup basketball—first to 21 wins. One point per basket inside the arc, two points for shots beyond it. Simple. Fast. The kind of street rules that separated real players from pretenders.

Brian and Landon had scored once.

One basket. Two points. In fifteen minutes of trying.

And that was only because Phei had let his attention slip for half a second—wanted to see if they could actually capitalize on an opening. They could. Very well.

Every other possession? His.

He did not hold back, with his new body he’d managed to get all the 60% he’d got from the system, which meant, Phei played better than any player right now in history.

His skills were on the Legendary grade; better than any player on Earth.

He’d moved like water. Like wind. Like something that had been playing this game for lifetimes instead of weeks. Every shot sank. Every steal came easy. Every defensive play they tried, he read before they even started it.

The System had made him good.

No—the System had made him dangerous.

And Brian and Landon had just watched it happen in real time.

"Okay," Brian said, bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. "Okay. Yeah. We can work with this."

Landon just stared at him. That same expression Emily had worn earlier—like his brain was trying to process something it wasn’t built to handle.

"Tomorrow," Phei said, bouncing the ball once. "We destroy ’em."

Brian grinned.

For the first time since this whole thing started, he actually looked excited.

"Yeah. Yeah, we fucking do."

Back in the meeting room.

They’d discussed strategy for another hour—plays, positions, how to handle Marcus’s inevitable dirty tricks. Brian was smart. Landon was quick. And Phei?

Phei was a weapon they were only beginning to understand.

When they finally wrapped up, his girls came to say goodbye.

Sierra first—a kiss that promised more later, her Ice Queen mask firmly back in place but her eyes soft when they met his. Maddie after, bouncing on her toes, still riding the high of earlier, leaving lipstick on his cheek and a whispered promise in his ear that made his cock twitch.

Then Delilah.

His cousin lingered in the doorway—still flushed, still affected, still carrying the memory of that night in her bedroom when they’d almost crossed the final line. She didn’t say much. Didn’t need to. Just pressed herself against him briefly, her breath warm against his ear.

"Soon," she whispered. So quiet only he could hear.

She’d pulled back. Eyes bright. Cheeks pink. The promise hanging between them like a live wire.

Then Maya.

"So I just wanted to say," she started, already talking too fast, hands fidgeting with the strap of her bag, "that I hope the Ashford thing goes okay, because I’ve heard things about that family, and not like bad things necessarily, but like intense things, and the Madam especially is supposed to be really—I mean, not that you can’t handle it, obviously you can handle anything, I’ve seen you handle things that would make normal people just completely fall apart, but I just—"

"Maya."

She stopped. Swallowed.

"I’ll be fine."

"You always say that."

"And I always am."

Something flickered in her eyes—doubt, worry, that thing she carried for him that neither of them talked about. The thing that made Sierra’s jaw tighten whenever Maya was in the room. The thing that made Phei feel guilty for reasons he couldn’t quite justify.

"Text me?" she asked. Small voice. Hopeful. "When you’re done? Just so I know you didn’t get... I don’t know... eaten by dragon ladies or whatever."

"I’ll text you."

She smiled—bright, relieved, painfully genuine—and something in his chest did that weird twist again. Before she left, she’d left him something and whispered something to him.

Later, he told himself. Figure out what to do about Maya later.

And finally—Emily.

Red-faced. Unable to meet his eyes. Clutching a tablet like it was a shield between them.

"I-I’ll have the reports ready for tomorrow," she stammered. "And I’ve confirmed your appointment at the Ashford estate and—and Miss Harris’s residence after—and—"

"Emily."

She flinched. "Yes?"

"Breathe."

She breathed. Shakily.

"You did good today. Thank you."

The look she gave him—grateful, embarrassed, still hungry underneath all the mortification—almost made him laugh again.

Later, he reminded himself. Focus now. Claim my beautiful assistant later.

Phei had stayed at the school for more than just the meeting.

In his fresh uniform—thank you, Emily, despite everything—he was heading straight to the Ashford Estate after this. Get the apology thing over with. Face whatever judgment awaited him from the Madam, from Elena, from whoever else wanted a piece of him.

Then Miss Harris’s residence.

Then—hopefully—sleep. Maybe. If the universe stopped throwing curveballs for five goddamn minutes.

The hallways were empty as he walked. His footsteps echoed on polished floors.

Quiet.

Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

What Phei didn’t know—what he couldn’t know—was that the Academy had other plans for him today.

A door opened.

Sudden. Sharp. The click of it cutting through the silence like a knife.

Feminine hands appeared first—manicured nails, elegant fingers, the kind of hands that belonged on magazine covers or wrapped around expensive wine glasses or later, around his cock.

Then a face.

Oh.

Oh, hello.

His chemistry teacher.

Ms. Bloom—Patricia Bloom, thirty-something, curves that her professional attire couldn’t quite hide, lips that always looked like they’d just been licked. She’d been one of the teachers he’d noticed noticing him.

One of the ones whose eyes lingered a beat too long during lectures, whose voice went slightly breathless when she called on him in class.

She looked at him now.

Really looked.

And then she smiled.

"Mr. Maxton," she said, her voice silk and honey and something darker underneath. "Just the student I was hoping to see. Would you step into my classroom for a moment? I’d like to... talk."

Phei’s own smile spread slow.

Well, well, well.

Just minutes ago, he’d told himself he was done playing safe. Done being cautious. Said he was going to step up his game, cuck these spineless bastards, take their beauties.

And now his hot chemistry teacher was summoning him into an empty classroom. Alone with her.

The school practically deserted around them.

Universe, he thought, you beautiful bastard. You were listening.

"Of course, Ms. Bloom," he said, letting his voice drop half an octave. "I’d be happy to... talk."

He followed her inside.

His eyes—entirely without his permission, entirely on purpose—dropped to her ass as she walked.

God.

Bubbly. Round. The kind of ass that strained against professional skirts and made you wonder what it would feel like under your hands.

The door closed behind them.

What Phei didn’t know—

What he couldn’t see—

Was the figure at the end of the hallway.

Amber Castellano had been hurrying to catch up with him. Had seen him walking out of the meeting room, had been working up the courage to approach, to say something, to—she didn’t even know what.

Her thighs were still damp from earlier. From that video. From what she’d done to herself in her private room while imagining—

And then she’d watched him enter the classroom.

Watched his eyes drop to the teacher’s ass.

Watched the door close with a click of finality.

Oh.

Oh my gods.

Her thighs—already wet from her earlier climax—got wetter.

Because she knew what was about to happen in that room.

Could picture it. Could imagine Ms. Bloom bent over her own desk, that professional skirt hiked up, Phei behind her with that look in his eyes—

Amber’s hand drifted to her stomach. Lower. Pressing against the ache that had suddenly flared back to life.

He’s going to fuck her.

Right now.

While I’m standing here.

She should leave. Should walk away. Should pretend she hadn’t seen anything.

Instead, she found herself moving closer.

Toward the door.

Toward whatever sounds might slip through the cracks.

What am I doing?

What am I—

Her back hit the wall beside the classroom door.

And she waited.

Breath shallow.

Heart pounding.

Thighs pressed together so tight it almost hurt.

What happens next?