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She was twenty-two—a fact she continued to remind me of.
A grown woman.
A beautiful woman.
My shoulders fell as I released a long breath. “I’ve struggled to reconcile you being in my class,” I admitted, giving her a half-truth.
What I really meant was—I’m struggling to reconcile the fact that you grew up to be a knockout, one I really want to touch but can’t, and I’m being an asshole in response to that desire.
I would never admit that to her, though.
“It’s a distraction,” I continued. “I don’t want to show you any favoritism.”
“Well, be assured, you’ve done the absolute opposite of that,” she muttered, her attention going to the damn window again. “I haven’t told anyone in the course that I know you, and I’m sure none of them have even questioned it. I’ve prepared for every class as needed, and I’ve conducted myself professionally—”
I snorted. “That black dress and those fuck-me heels were not professional.”
She slowly shifted her eyes to me, blue flames lighting up her irises. “That outfit was worn for a purpose that everyone in the class understood.”
“Oh, they understood all right. Especially Carver.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me?”
“I heard him ask you out. Was that your goal? Using my class assignment to seduce him?” It wasn’t a fair question and I knew it, but thinking about that exchange infuriated me all over again.
I’m reacting like a fucking teenager, I chastised myself. This wasn’t me at all. I commanded every situation, my natural inclination to lead coming through in everything that I did.
Yet this female flipped me upside down and danced all over my instincts. It made me feel dizzy and out of sorts. Which only increased my need to tame her, to right the world around us by asserting my control over her, over us.
“Yes,” she hissed. “My goal was to dress up in a sexy number to seduce Carver Matthews.” She rolled her eyes again, standing. “I’m not going to sit here and take your insults, Pierce. We both know that dress was a prop.”
She planted her hands on the desk, leaning down to stare right into my eyes.
“Are you one of those men who say a woman asked for it just because of the way she dressed?” she asked, her voice serious. “Because if you are, then I’m disappointed in you. I thought you knew better.”
Her words were another slap across the face, so much so that I couldn’t even think of a reply.
So instead, I asked, “Are you dating him?”
Her eyebrows flew upward. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She stepped back as though I were the one who had delivered the slap this time. “That’s none of your business, Pierce.”
“Your brother would disagree.” This was coming out all wrong.
I hadn’t asked her here for this.
Or maybe I had.
Maybe I’d wanted a reason to fight.
No, that wasn’t right at all.
I wanted to tame her. Punish her. Make her mine. All things I couldn’t do. I shouldn’t have invited her here at all. I should have just let it go. Continued to ignore her.
But when she’d turned the tables and ignored me, I hadn’t been able to take it.
I’d needed to break the silence.
Fuck. This was a dangerous tightrope to walk, and I was failing miserably at it.
