Page 33 of Apparently, I’m Trouble

His groan was soft and desperate. “Fuck. I told you to stop moving like that.”

I pushed back against him, and he grunted, pulling me close.

His whisper was savage. “Try and move now.”

I could feel him firmly pressed against the lower curve of my ass, and wished I could’ve told myself it disgusted me. I was trapped in a closet with a man who hated me, who made life difficult for me.

So why did the thought of Theo pinning me down make me so wet?

I wriggled my ass against him just to hear more of his deep, gravelly voice as it strained and grunted.

He didn’t disappoint. His whisper was rough as he said, “Mia, I need you to stop.”

“Or what?”

“Or they’ll hear us.”

He spread his hand across my lower belly, pinning me to him, and I whimpered as his cock twitched. A mind-altering heat rushed me—I liked it. Oh god, I liked how it felt.

I didn’t want him to let me go.

My body melted into his as his other hand moved around my waist, letting him touch more of me.

The curve of my breast brushed against his thumb, and I almost wished he’d slide higher, over my blouse. He was so solid against my back, his arms heavy around me, and his touch felt so good, like it could soothe the ache between my thighs. A heavy pulse forced a moan from me, and I didn’t care if Theo noticed.

“But you want it, don’t you?” His breath was warm against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. “You want me to touch you.”

He ground into me, teasing himself, and there wasn’t a single thought in my mind as I lifted my hand from the doorframe and slid it between us. He grunted as I ran my palm over him, and it was heady to feel the size of him like this.

“You’re fucking filthy, Mia, aren’t you? Touching my cock while your boss is right outside.”

Soft noises strained my throat as I worked his erection.

“How wet are you? Should I find out?”

The throbbing between my legs was unbearable. I needed him to touch me.

“Say it.” His hand slid lower, raking across my thigh as he whispered, “Tell me you want this.”

I spread my legs as his fingers drifted to the hem of my skirt. My breath sounded heavy, almost ragged in this small closet, and it was through the haze of my panting that I realized the classroom was quiet.

The classroom.

I was in a classroom storage closet. And I was touching my student’s father.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, clapping my hand over my mouth.

What was I doing?

I jerked out of Theo’s grip and yanked the door open, almost tearing it from its hinges as it slammed against the wall. The room was quiet. Not a thing was out of place. And it didn’t feel right, because I’d just done something very, very wrong.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. What did we do?

His hands were on me. I could still feel the heat of his breath on my neck, the weight of his body on mine. I would’ve let him touch me.

Oh god, I would’ve let him touch me.

What the hell was I thinking?