Page 90 of No Greater Oblivion

“She was my science teacher when we lived in Brazil. Tall, tan, curvy, bossy⁠—”

“I feel like you have a type.”

He laughs. “Maybe. At least half the kids in my class had their sexual awakening that year. Me and a group of other boys used to get lunch detention on purpose because she was the supervisor for that period. It was a very interesting year.”

“Is that how you learned to speak Portuguese so well?”

“Absolutely.”

I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Does she look like me?”

Alejandro opens his mouth. Closes it. “No, not at all⁠—”

“You hesitated!”

“I didn’t.” he takes my face in his hands and kisses me quickly. “You’re much prettier.”

“Mhm…nice save.”

“Are you not going to tell me who your favorite was?”

“My favorite was an eighty-two-year-old sophomore English teacher. Who also just so happened to be a priest.”

He whistles. “Religious roleplay?”

I hit him with the magazine but he just laughs. “Don’t be a creep! I went to Catholic school almost my whole life. Most of my teachers were nuns or priests.”

“It’s the button downs, right?” he gestures to his shirt and tugs on his own collar, the one whose buttons are never done. “And the high collars?”

“Maybe. It’s part of the reason I hooked up with my sociology professor.”

Alejandro bolts upright beside me, disbelief coloring his voice. “You slept with one of your professors?”

“Fall semester, freshman year.” I flick imaginary dust off my shoulder. “It’s a rite of passage. And Professor Cardenas was fucking hot.”

“Not hotter than me.”

My nose crinkles and I tilt my head back and forth, hands extended palms up as if measuring the hands on a scale. “Well, not to choose favorites⁠—”

He slips his hand behind my neck and pulls me forward, sealing his mouth against my own. Electricity bolts down my spine as his tongue glides against my lips, gently urging them open. The kiss is fleeting but tension builds deep inside me.

“He was…um…” I murmur. “Very…very skilled…”

“Yeah,” Alejandro replies, an edge of sarcasm and satisfaction to his voice. “Okay.”

“And…” I lose focus when his free hand follows the curve of my waist and rises to cup my breast. “Older…”

My words fall on deaf ears. The pressure of his mouth against mine sends my nerves into a frenzy, the reverent and familiar touch of his hand setting fire to my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck and tangle my fingers in his hair, loving the sounds he makes when I gather his bottom lip between my teeth and bite. He lifts me off the lounge chair and carries me back inside where we stumble through the hall, attempting to undress with grace but failing at every step of the way.

I manage to unbutton his shirt while he sets me on the edge of the bed and unzips my dress. My shoes fall off and he kisses down my neck and my heart stutters and expands, three sizes too big for my own chest⁠—

Until the shrill, insistent sound of a ringing phone cuts through the haze. I recognize it as his immediately.

“Let it ring.” I unbuckle his belt and pull his face back down to mine. “Please.”

He’s distracted for only a moment before it starts ringing again.

“Hold on.”