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“Why not?” She asks, sounding genuinely curious. “You enjoyed playing with me last time we met.”
“Fuck,” I bark, stepping back from her and running an agitated hand through my hair.
I can’t play these games with her. If I do, she’s going to end up face down, ass up on her precious fencing mat.
As it is, I’m risking everything by being here. If Thornton walked in on us right now, I’d be done for and my mum…I don’t want to think about what my dad would do to my mum.
“Are you eighteen or not?” I churn out, enunciating every word.
She gives me a long look, stretching out the silence intolerably. I want to bend her over my knee and spank her ass until it welts to punish her for her insolence.
“Yes.”
I exhale a relieved breath, a fresh glare coming to shine in my eyes. She pays it no more mind than the previous ones.
“You told the exact same lies, Tristan. Don’t act like the only injured party here.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, “It’s Professor Novak to you.” But the hairs on my arms stand in response to her saying my name for the first time. My clenched fists shake with the effort of restraining my need to issue another command.
Say it again.
“I don’t think so,” she quips back. My hand twitches again with the need to spank her for that mouth of hers. “We were two consenting adults, I see no problem here.”
“You’re barely an adult and I’m yourprofessor.”
She tilts her head to the side in thought and I can tell I’m not going to like what comes out of her mouth.
“Does that mean you don’t have any teacher-student fantasies?” She clicks her tongue against her teeth. “That’s too bad, I would have been happy to put on a schoolgirl uniform for you.”
In two large steps, I’m towering over her. I cover her mouth with the palm of one hand and fist her ponytail in the other.
“Shut up, Nera,” I growl, vibrating with emotion at this point. They run the gamut, from anger and irritation to arousal and agitation.
She can’t speak but the smugness in her gaze is almost more intolerable than her words. I pull my hand back and loosely cuff her neck instead.
“I like the way you say my name,” she whispers. “I never got to hear you moan it.”
“And I never got to hear you scream mine,” I grunt. “We don’t always get what we want.”
What the fuck, Tristan?
I have completely lost sight of the objective here. I’m off the rails and so far away from them, it takes effort to find my way back. Especially when I see her dark eyes darken further, like whatever dirty thoughts she’s thinking are blackening her very eye color.
“You could,” she answers, matter of fact.
“Stay away from me, Nera,” I charge. “This, us, it won’t happen again. No one can ever know. I’ll lose everything.”
I’ll lose more than she can imagine.
She smiles up at me and I want to wipe it off her face with my teeth and tongue.
“As I remember it, you were the one who was desperate for my phone number. So desperate in fact that you wrote it on me to make sure I didn’t leave without it.” Her eyes fall to where my hand cups her neck. “And you’re the one who can’t stop touching me. Seems I should be the one asking you to stay away from me.”
My gaze drops to her mouth. “That was before I found out you were a child, jailbait.”
Instead of backing away, she steps into me, molding her body against mine.
“Do I feel like a child to you?” She whispers.
