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A shiver rippled through me. This was just coffee, but maybe for tonight, I could have more. He didn’t seem like someone who wasn’t experienced with one-night encounters. The man emitted pheromones like a Glade plug in. I could smell him, feel his masculine energy seeping into me with every breath. Since he’d walked into my classroom this morning, I’d been aware of the heat in his stare and the temptation of his touch.
Brett Steele reeked of bad boy vibes, and god, I wanted him to be bad with me.
Chapter Three
Steele
What the fuck was I doing here? Jesus. Maybe if I rode home in a torrential downpour I would chill the fuck out when it came to my kid’s teacher. This morning, she’d been a bit cool toward me, but there was nothing icy about the way she’d had her hands on me on the bike.
And there was nothing cold about the way she’d laughed as she cried. Her body had vibrated against mine. I wasn’t sure what was going on with her, but after learning about her husband, her reactions to me made a little more sense. Things must not have been good before he died.
I got it. Riding on a motorcycle had cleansed my soul more than once.
I stood over the sink and washed my hands. “Don’t fuck this up. Have a cup of coffee, go home, and rub one out.” I wasn’t looking for an old lady. The ink hadn’t even been scribbled onto the divorce papers, yet. Jaymi Bardot wasn’t one of Bullet’s kittens or a sweet butt in the MC. I couldn’t strip her out of the damp shirt clinging to her tits, the molded fabric hinting at her pert nipples beneath.
I couldn’t fuck her and forget her, not when my kid was involved. I planned to be at parent conferences and dad days from now on. If I fucked her, I wouldn’t be able to sit across from her and not remember the taste of her pussy.
But those jeans had hugged her like a second skin. I glared at myself in the mirror because I shouldn’t be thinking of her getting undressed in her bedroom or thinking about having her juicy ass in my hands and her pussy on my mouth.
She’s your kid’s teacher for fuck’s sake.
With the mental scolding doing nothing to alleviate the weight in my balls, and the stretch of my cock, I stepped out of the bathroom.
Refocus. Get your head out of the bedroom upstairs. The house was incredible. Original wood moldings matched the hardwood plank flooring in a chevron pattern. Mosaic tiles in the mudroom continued into the kitchen. The interior had been recently updated. Modern Restoration Hardware fixtures matched the mission-style furniture.
Jesus. I’d been watching too much DIY with Cory.
I ran my hand over the polished wood baluster. This was a lot of house for a young teacher. She couldn’t be more than twenty-five, and already a widow. Her husband had to have had some deep fucking pockets.
I made my way back toward the kitchen pausing in the dining room at the double French doors. The upper floor had a deck creating a covered patio expanding out to the pool. Garden lights curved along the pathways, and mammoth trees towered into the sky around the perimeter of the property.
I turned around. Light from the kitchen spilled onto the dining room table. As I noticed the header on the top sheet, my brows furrowed.
Valley View Law Group
Estate Planning, Family Trusts, and Probate Litigation
This was none of my business. Neither was the photo on the corner of the table. However, I invaded her privacy when I lifted the frame, glanced at the picture, then snapped my gaze to the stairs.
What the fuck? This had to be her husband. Why didn’t she say she had a kid? The little girl in the photo had to be hers. Same brown hair and sparkling green eyes. Petite like Jaymi with a small, upturned nose.
A little girl who had to be close to Lili’s age stood next to Jaymi. With an innocent, sweet smile and missing teeth, she stared into the camera. Jaymi sat in a chair with her sexy as fuck legs turned to the side. Her husband stood behind her with one hand on her shoulder in a typical department store family pose.
He was a decent-looking guy with a short, boxed beard. Too young to leave a widow. Jaymi hadn’t said anything about the little girl. A slow roll in my gut had me imagining the worst.
“Matilda Mae.” Jaymi stood under the archway of the dining room. “She was five when that was taken. It was our last family photo.”
She crossed the room and glanced at the picture while I still held it in my hand.
“It was taken a month before the crash.” Her gaze lifted to mine.
Tension weighed heavily in the breath between us. For what she was going to say and what I was going to hear. I could see it on her face. She’d lost them both.
“She was in the car with Jeff.”
“Fuck, Jaymi. I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what to say. To her, I was just some guy with a kid in her class. She needed shoulders stronger than mine for this kind of shit. Fuck, no one was going to carry this grief for her.
Seeming to remember she was holding clothes in her hand, she handed me a pair of sweats and an Eminence University T-shirt. “I thought you might want to change.” While upstairs, she’d pulled her wet hair into a ponytail and changed into leggings and an oversized sweatshirt.
