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“A couple of my year twelves. I’m their homeroom teacher. They were talking about it in class, and I asked them about what music they listened to. Apparently the band playing tonight is a local one who’s starting to get noticed.”
“What year levels do you teach?” Adelaide asked over her shoulder when King dropped back to slip in behind her and make room for a couple pushing their kids in a double pram.
“This year I’m in the junior and middle school—years seven, eight, and ten—but last year I taught middle and senior. I’m experienced enough to be able to pick up whatever year level the school needs me in.”
She smiled over her shoulder at him, her gaze warm. Pride filled him. His students meant the world to him, and he loved every minute of being their teacher.
“What inspired you to teach?”
Of the few good memories he had at school, Mr Anderson’s classes were one of his favourites. “I had this history teacher. He’d walk in, toss his Akubra on the desk like some cowboy, and pull out a chair. He’d sit on the back of it with his feet on the seat and talk. No slides, no readings, nothing. It was amazing. Even as high schoolers, the discussions we had were deep. He’d raise events that happened thousands of years ago and paint pictures so vivid that we would sit there hanging off his every word. Even after the bell went, we’d be asking more questions and he’d have to herd us out of the class. I knew that was what I wanted to do within the first few weeks of starting his class.”
“That’s so cool.”
Their conversation meandered, winding along as they pedalled. The sun dipped in the sky, dropping below the line of the high rises and casting long shadows along the beach. King shivered, resisting the temptation to pedal harder to warm himself up. Usually he rode in long sleeves, but the weather had been warm when they’d set out.
King pulled up beside Adelaide and motioned to the gym, which sat right on the sand. The café was a patch of AstroTurf with a window into the gym, but it was sheltered, had decent coffee, and expected everyone to be dressed in gym gear. “Should we stop for a coffee?”
A smile lit up Adelaide’s flushed face, her eyes sparkling happily. “Yeah, I’d love to. My friend owns this place, but I’ve never been here before. I’m excited.”
*****
“You, ah, want to follow me back to my place to get changed for tonight? It’s not far from here.” King locked the second bike into place on his roof rack, checked that he’d tossed their helmets onto the seat, and closed the back door. He really wanted Adelaide to say yes, but at the same time didn’t want her to think he was pushing for more than she was prepared to give. They hadn’t progressed past teasing and tempting each other, a brush of their lips or a playful nip of her skin the most physical they’d been. He wanted more—a proper kiss, a proper hug. He would happily trade their date that night with making out on the couch, his body pressed against hers. But he was trying to be a gentleman too.
“I didn’t drive. Caught a rideshare in. Can I, maybe, bum a lift with you?” Adelaide smiled, her eyes darkening as she gazed at him through lowered lashes. “Then you can drop me off. Tomorrow. Or whenever.”
Oh, hell.
Reason and logic fled, fear dissipating as mist does on a sunny morning. His body lit up like a dash, warning lights flashing with every synapse of brain function shutting down until he could respond only to his body’s base desires. Lust enveloped him. It was as if he was caught in an avalanche, the force picking him up and tossing him end over end, taking with it any rational thought.
He was drawn to Adelaide. She called to him, her pheromones capturing him and pulling him ever closer. But he wouldn’t break free of her even if he could. He wanted her. Wanted to touch and caress. Worship her until she knew exactly how good he could make her feel.
He caged her in, her back against his car and held his breath as he pressed his body against hers. She shuddered, her eyes unfocussed. Adelaide’s tongue swept out, licking her lip as her chest rose and she pressed her breasts against him, arching into his touch like a cat. A sigh escaped from those lips he wanted to kiss. Warm and soft, she was pliant in his arms. King ran his hands down her sides to her waist and it was King’s turn to quake.
Taller than her by half a head, his hips at her waist, he tilted Adelaide’s face to his. He could get lost in those expressive blue eyes, the invitation clear. She wanted him. Adelaide’s stare was focussed on his lips. Her breaths were short and choppy, and faster than normal. He raised his hand to her throat, brushing his thumb over her pulse point. Her heartbeat thrummed, pulsing blood around her system so fast it would leave an F1 car looking like it was standing still. Her breath hitched and he shifted his hand, wrapping his fingers around her throat and holding her in place. Her eyes rolled back in her head at the possessive touch and King growled, desperation clawing at him to caress her. To push her over the edge.
Brushing his lips against hers, he kept his kiss light as he ground his lengthening semi against the softness of her belly. Telling her without words what she did to him. The pictures he painted in his mind’s eye of them locked together were sensual as hell—shadows dancing over naked skin and moans like a symphony in the air as they writhed together.
Holding his mouth just out of her reach, he watched as Adelaide’s eyes darkened. Her tongue snaked out and wet her lips, licking his too. He groaned, a rumble deep in his chest that vibrated against hers. Adelaide’s pebbled nipples brushed against his ribs, pressing into him. She rubbed herself along his torso, her hands gripping his waist as she communicated exactly what she wanted. Any restraint, any hesitation fled, and the freedom it unleashed lifted a weight off his shoulders. Adelaide must have seen something in his gaze. Or maybe it was the punch of his hips forward, his shaft digging into her belly. Whatever it was, kicked her into action.
She reached up, hooking her hand around his nape, and dragged his mouth against hers. King squeezed her hip, pulling her closer. She licked into his mouth, their tongues touching. Her flavour burst on his tongue. Coffee, strawberries, and a something uniquely Adelaide filled his senses. Intoxicating him. Overwhelming him. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she tugged the strands until his scalp stung and he moaned. King was lost in her taste and touch. Drowning in her. His head spun and his body charged, amping up until he was electrified.
He gasped for breath and tried to pull back. Put some distance between them before he hitched her leg over his hip and ground against her until they were both shouting out their release. Adelaide growled and shook her head.
She wasn’t finished with him.
She tugged him toward her, pulling him forward again. Teasing him with her lips like they were forbidden fruit until he fell into her arms.
He went willingly.
They stayed like that, making out and rutting together against the car until the air around them turned cold and King shivered. “Hey, you’re freezing,” Adelaide whispered, running her hands down his bare arms. “Let’s get you warm.”
“Burning up more like it.” But the impact of his muttered response was lost when he shivered again, the southerly wind cold enough to have come straight off the Antarctic. Adelaide raised an eyebrow and smirked—one of those knowing smiles—as if to humour him. Her heat pressed against his front was the only thing keeping King from turning into a popsicle.
Opening the passenger door for her, he waited until she slipped in and closed it. He stilled for a moment, resisting the urge to pinch himself again.
Four
Adelaide
