“W-what?”
“Being taken by rough men. That’s your fantasy? Help me understand this fantasy of yours, Miss Walsh. I want to get it right.” He doesn’t touch me, but his gaze drops to my mouth. “Is it the bike that gets you hot?” I’m arrested by his looks, the way he speaks, and I can’t do anything but stare. “You imagine me riding you out to nowhere, ripping those panties off, eating your pussy out in the dirt while the engine is still hot?”
My lips part in disbelief. My brain is saying move. My face is so hot I can feel my pulse everywhere.
“Or the leather?” His voice drops another register, but not low enough that I can pretend I didn’t hear it. “Imagining it creaking while I pin you to the wall, hike that skirt up, and pump you fulluntil you’re leaking my cum down your thighs while you teach class?”
My thighs press together. The reaction is involuntary, a reflex I can’t stop, and the friction it creates sends a hot, slick awareness.
I’m wet. Standing in a school hallway first thing in the morning with children walking to class, and I’m wet.
“Tell me because I’ll drag you behind the building right now and do exactly that while the kids file to class. Is that your fantasy?“
The bell rings. Loud and shrill, and it’s my lifeline. I turn on my heel and walk straight to my classroom without another word. Without looking back. My ears are ringing louder than the bell.
I could have moved at any point. Told him to stop. I had an entire hallway of witnesses. But I chose to stand there. I chose to listen. Why did I do that?
6
Thea
I SIT IN my car, watching Kilian’s motorcycle pull into the driveway of a small cottage. He dismounts, helps Sara off, and walks her inside.
I wish Kade hasn’t fixed my car. I wish it has stayed in his garage for a while, and he hasn’t personally driven it back to the school, then I may not have been sitting here like a stalker, sweating and convincing myself I wasn’t losing my mind.
Because that’s what this is. Insanity. Following a man I’m convinced is dangerous.
Maybe I do have a fantasy. Hearing him say all those filthy words. I won’t deny, I felt it in my stomach. Like hunger, but humiliating. I have very little experience with men, and now I’m sitting here questioning whether I’m the type of woman who’s into dirty talk. Is that the reason I’m following him now? Not about Sara anymore, rather my own curiosity?
No. No. I’m not attracted to him.
I turn my focus back to the cottage. Why are they taking so long? And whose house is that?
A woman? I snort at my own ridiculousness. I already know he’s not married, no girlfriend. He told me himself.
Doesn’t mean he has no flings here and there.He looks virile, my brain supplies and that thought tugs my chest.
“This is research.” I shake my head and whisper to myself. Information that might help Sara. Absolutely not me being a stalker with a possible syndrome.
The front door opens. Kilian walks out of the house alone. He swings onto his bike and roars off.
My hands move on autopilot, turning the key. And then I’m following him again, but this time I learned my lesson; I’m keeping a good distance. He won’t ever suspect someone is following him.
The sky has gone strange, heavy and dark, despite my dashboard telling me it’s still four o’clock.
His bike veers onto a narrow path that cuts away from the town, and as I follow, I notice my tires slowly crunching gravel, trees closing in thick around me.
This is where he lives? In a forest? Or does he know I’m following him again, and he is luring me in?
Shit.My foot eases off the gas for a second as I reconsider. In about an hour or so, it will be dark here. I should probably go back. It’s not safe for me.
Okay… I’ll find a spot and turn around safely.
The path narrows further, and I fix my eyes on his taillight, a red firefly bobbing between the trees. I’m so focused on it that I almost don’t notice the edges of the road going soft. The trees, the gravel, the green… all of it smearing together. I blink several times. Fog? No, not in the middle of a scorching afternoon. Fog doesn’t settle in this heat.
Finally, finding a spot to stop, I angle my car, then stop when I see exactly what’s causing all the haze. I’m almost in disbelief as I roll my window down to have a closer look.
Smoke. Thick and acrid, curling up from the underbrush, and through the haze is an orange flicker that turns my blood to ice.
