Page 43 of Scarred

“He completely fucked with me. Fuck,” he says again.

“Last night, he got it in his head that he was going to be my wingman tonight to get me laid. Apparently, he thought you were a good target even though I told him it was a bad idea.”

“It is,” he says quickly. “A very bad idea.”

Even though I know it’s true with him being a client and a dad of one of my students, it still stings to hear it. It hurts even more to hear the certainty in his voice.

“Glad we both are on the same page.” I muster up the courage to look him in the eye and be strong, even though a part of me aches to say the lie. “I'd better get back downstairs before Connor comes looking for me.”

I move to leave, and he blocks my way.

“I said it was a bad idea. I never said I didn’t want it,” he says quietly. His eyes search mine—dangerous, intoxicating greens full of untamed flames that I can’t help but want to feel the burn.

“Cayden,” I whisper, but it comes out more like a plea, wanting something I can’t put into words, but knowing he’s the answer to everything. His hand cups my neck, and when he runs his thumb over my bottom lip, I part them on a sigh.

“Tell me I should stop,” he whispers hoarsely, his throat moving slowly as he swallows. “Tell me I shouldn’t want this.”

His grip on the back of my neck tightens as his fingers curl into my hair. Warmth spreads throughout my body as I lean more into his touch.

“I can’t,” I breathe, unable to form the lie on my tongue. “I want it just as much.”

A low tortured moan escapes him as his hands cup my face right before he dives in.

When his lips touch mine, my body becomes alive. I’ve been kissed before, but not like this.

He tastes like bourbon and everything I’ve ever craved, but have never been able to feel before. His lips move over mine in a hunger to match my own. They're soft and demanding all at the same time.

He’s not just kissing me.

He’s consuming me.

Backing me up, my butt hits the table, and he quickly lifts me and steps between my legs. My dress hikes up, leaving only the thin lace of my panties between us.

He’s hard between my legs, making the ache grow stronger by the minute.

His tongue dances with mine in a desperate attempt to sate the hunger coursing through our veins.

I feel his hands drop down to my thighs as he runs them along the top of my boots, his fingers possessively digging into my skin as he goes.

My fingers thread into his hair, and I savor the feel of the soft curls against my palm. I let my desire run free in this moment as I lightly bite his bottom lip and press myself further into the swollen part of him that could take all this ache and pulsing away between my legs.

“Fuck, Luna,” he groans suddenly. The frustration is evident in his voice as he quickly jolts away as if he’s been burned.

My breaths are labored as I’m slammed back into reality. The loss of contact immediately fills my body with an emptiness that’s left behind. The sting of rejection swoops down and wants to swallow me whole as he averts my eyes.

I slide off the table and smooth down my dress, wanting to be anywhere but here, where I can see the guilt and shame written clear as day on his face.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he grounds out more to himself than to me, it seems, as he aggressively rakes a hand through his hair.

“You’re right,” I say with a conviction that I don’t feel—not even in the slightest, but I’m not about to let him see how badly he is affecting me. “You're a dad of one of my students and a client of mine. I should never have crossed that line with you. I hope this doesn’t change anything. I would hate to lose Scarlett as a student over a stupid mistake.”

He flinches at the word mistake, but that’s what he’s basically calling our kiss. I might as well say it like it is. His brows furrow in confusion like he didn’t expect me to agree with him.

“Of course not. She loves your class, and I wouldn’t take that away from her because of something stupid I did.” He emphasizes the word stupid letting me know loud and clear he didn’t like it.

“Of something we did. I kissed you back, so we both are guilty of making a mistake.”

“Can we please stop calling it a mistake?” His face hardens as the line of his jaw clenches tight.