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“I’m real sorry I left it behind. I guess I wasn’t thinking,” she says, taking the cool leather strap from my hand, letting her fingers brush across my skin, lighting a path of heat in their wake.
“It’s no problem. I have to get going,” I say, taking a step back so we’re not standing so close together. She continues to saunter toward me, until I’m damn near flush against the car.
Zara leans into me and my natural reaction is to push her away, only I get one hand on her hip and can’t do anything other than pull her closer, pressing my erection into her stomach. A soft moan escapes Zara’s lips and I’m so lost in the moment, I bring my lips to hers and softly kiss her.
It’s exquisite. Unlike our first kiss, I don’t want this to end. I can’t bring myself to stop kissing and touching her. Her taste is unbelievably sweet, like she ate a sugar cube, and her petite body is pliable in my hands. So many things I could do to make her scream my name.
Her lips are soft, yet demanding as I maneuver my tongue against the seam until she opens. Zara drops her bag and pushes both hands into my hair, pulling the strands and massaging my scalp at the same time. My palms quickly find the firm globes of her ass and drag her as close to me as possible.
It’s amazing. Wrong? Right? Perfect? All of the above, probably.
Suddenly, I hear slamming car doors in the distance and reality comes crashing back down on me. I’m her teacher and she’s my student. Shannon said it perfectly: She’s just a little girl. I’m taking advantage of her innocence.
“I’m sorry, Zara,” I say, pulling back and pacing the parking lot.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I enjoyed it. I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” she says, walking up behind me and wrapping her tiny arms around my middle, attempting to push her hand down the front of my pants. The second our bare skin touches, I know I have to walk away or I’ll do something I’ll end up regretting for the rest of my life.
“Have a good day, Ms. Hamilton,” I say, breaking free of her grasp, getting in my car, and speeding out of the lot.
A few blocks away, I stop at a red light and repeatedly bash my hands against the steering wheel. If one word of this gets out, my career and relationship are over and my integrity is gone. I’ll be nothing…have nothing. All of my hard work for absolutely…nothing.
Distance, Noah. Distance.
Chapter 11
Zara
I hide a smile as I walk into the classroom and take my seat in the back row. He’s doing everything he can to pretend he hasn’t noticed me¸ but I know he has; the tremble of his hands, the way his jaw is twitching. God, he’s sweating. I bite my lip and snort.
The girl next to me—Melanie, I think her name is, glances at me.
“Sorry,” I murmur, blushing. “Just remembering a joke.”
“You’re new in town, right?” she asks. I nod. “I’m Melanie.” She smiles at me and I smile back. I feel bad for the girl. I can tell from her mannerisms that she doesn’t hold much confidence. She sits hunched over her desk, hiding her body in a loose polo shirt and oversized jeans. I get the feeling she doesn’t have a lot of friends, so I make an effort to be nice.
“Zara.” I smile. “I’m not completely new to the area,” I add, my tone friendly. “I hung out here a lot last year and the year before. My boyfriend lives here and graduated f
rom Evanston High and is a senior this year. He just got his own place and left the frat house. Thank God.”
“Oh, cool.”
Her eyes widen, like she’s impressed I’m dating a frat guy. I can’t imagine what she’d be like if I told her I’d kissed Mr. Bain. A few times.
“If you need any help catching up on what you missed, let me know. I’m pretty good at making sure I stay organized for exams.” She pushes her wire-framed glasses back up on the bridge of her nose.
I bet you are. A twinge of guilt hits me. She’s trying to be nice and I’m being a total bitch. I’ve been here now for weeks and it’s the first time we’ve spoken. I wonder if it’s because she’s shy or if I come off unapproachable. Either way, I’ve made myself feel bad for being a complete bitch, even if in my own head.
“Thanks,” I say. “I might take you up on that.”
I pretend to focus on the quiz he has just handed out, but instead my hand is under my desk, typing out a message to him. It’s risky, I know, but I want to see his face when he reads it. I want to watch him squirm.
Me: You wanna know what I’m thinking? How hot it would be to meet you in your office after class. My lips are feeling a little lonely.
I hit send and watch as his phone lights up. He reaches for it and reads my text, his eyes widening. He turns his phone off and shoves it into his briefcase before glowering at me. I don’t bother to hide my smile. God, this is too fucking easy.
—
After class, I busy myself with carefully packing my books into my bag so that when I finally stand, I’m the only student left in the room. Noah looks up. He sighs as his eyes meet mine. I wander over to his desk, brushing my hair over my shoulder.
