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Every instinct in his body was screaming out for him to take this woman, claim her, own her, make her his in every single way he could.
She nipped at his lower lip, attempting to claim control of the kiss, a purely bratty move that had his cock growing even harder. She was playing with him, trying to force his hand.
Fuck if she didn’t know how to push all his buttons. Matt gave her a taste of her own medicine, as he pulled her hair harder, held her tighter, made certain she knew exactly who held the power.
Another full minute passed before Matt’s wit returned and he became cognizant of the sounds around them, the honking of car horns, the blaring of noisemakers, people belting out “Auld Lang Syne.”
Liza appeared to have come to her senses as well, and she pulled away. The conqueror inside him almost dragged her back. He wasn’t finished with her. Not by a longshot.
But…
They were both panting, fighting to find their breath as they stared into each other’s eyes.
And that was when he realized he’d fucked up again. Because the resignation he’d seen in her beautiful brown eyes was gone and, in its place, he saw something much worse.
Hope.
He released her quickly, taking a step away. And then another.
“Happy New Year, Liza.”
Liza frowned, confused by his retreat, but before she could call him back, he found the strength to do what had to be done.
He left.
Chapter Four
“So does that make sense?” Liza asked, putting her pencil down.
Ashley nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Good. Then I think we’re done for today.”
“Algebra is still stupid. It’s not like I’m ever going to use this crap.”
Liza had heard the same argument from Ashley every single Saturday for the last three months. She’d gotten roped into tutoring the girl, one of the teens living at the Promise House, back in October after Ashley had failed four algebra quizzes in a row.
Arnold had been talking to Ashley about the importance of good grades when Liza had shown up that chilly Saturday in fall. He’d dragged Liza into the office, asked her if she understood algebra, and before she knew it, she and Ashley had a standing Saturday morning date to go over variables, coefficients, quadratic equations, and a bunch of other crap Liza hadn’t used since high school. Not that she’d ever confess that to Ashley. When Liza asked Arnold why he wasn’t tutoring the girl, he’d laughed hysterically, claiming he still used a calculator for simple multiplication because the nine times table had eluded him since elementary school.
“It doesn’t matter if you use it later in life or not. What you need to do is concentrate on passing this week’s test. You’re doing so well. We just have to stay on top of it.” The first thing Ashley had done when Liza arrived this morning was pull out her report card and show her the C she’d received in the class. That second-quarter grade, combined with the first quarter’s F, pulled her semester up to a D, aka passing. Halle-fucking-lujah.
Liza was determined to see the girl finish the year with at least a C in the course, though given Ashley’s progress lately, she didn’t think a B was entirely out of the realm of possibility. She’d said that aloud after hugging Ashley for the good report card and promising to bring her a surprise next week as a reward.
“You really think I could end up with a B in this class?” Ashley was clearly warming up to that idea.
“I do. You’re kicking algebra’s ass,” Liza assured her.
Ashley laughed, and together they cleaned up the table, putting the study guides, textbook, and notebook away.
“All finished?” Arnold walked into the rec room. Four kids were hunkered down on the couch and chairs surrounding the television, trash talking loudly as they played Mario Kart on the new gaming system someone had donated to the house over the holidays. There were eight other kids sitting around the same large table where she and Ashley had been, working on homework, doing crafts, or playing cards.
“Yep,” Liza replied. “I was about to stop by your office to see if you needed me to do anything else. Because if not, I think I might take off early this week.”
Arnold studied Liza’s face, frowning. “You look tired.”
Liza considered denying it, but why would she? Tired had been her permanent state since the Snowflake Gala. Sleep appeared a luxury she could no longer afford because it had been shut off due to lack of payment.
Night after night, she found herself tossing and turning, torn between frustration, self-recrimination, and overwhelming horniness.
