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“It’s attraction, babe. It’s as simple as that. Why can’t you just agree with me that you feel it too?”
“Because I don’t.” Her lie rolls off her lips far too quickly to be believable. I can feel the way her body betrays her.
“Bullshit,” I whisper into her ear, causing her body to involuntarily shiver with delight. “Turn around and tell me to my face.”
Her body, which was starting to melt, stiffens once more but she doesn’t turn to look up at me. Her lack of movement proves I was right, and Ilovebeing right. I know how to read a woman, even one who is as closed off as this sexy little math teacher at my mercy. My back teeth feel like they’re about to break from the pressure I’m putting on them to keep myself from grinding my hardening dick into the top of her perfectly rounded ass.
“I know your body, baby, even if you want to deny the attraction between us. I can see it in the subtlest of ways. The hair on your arms is rising, your breathing is more of a pant, and I’m sure if I reached up to cup those beautiful tits of yours, those perky nipples are probably stiff.”
Her breath catches again as her body falls against mine in the smallest of ways.
“I wish my teachers were as fine as you. I would have paid better attention in school.” My nose nudges the shell of her ear, causing her head to tip slightly to the side, unknowingly giving me access to her neck. A hint of her perfume floats up to my nose, causing my mouth to water. “I have a fantasy; one involving a naughty teacher and a ruler. Want to play it out with me?”
Once again, her body stiffens, but only with movement this time. Her eyes pierce me with a venomous glare, but I’m not thinking about anything except how luscious and tasty her lips look as she opens her mouth to say something.
“Listen here, you—”
I cut off whatever rant she was about to unleash by sealing my lips over hers. Her fist momentarily pounds against my chest before they stop, and her blunt nails try to dig into my flesh through my shirt as her head tilts again, this time deepening the kiss.
I didn’t see an ounce of lipstick on her lips, but mine glided against hers, so she must wear some ChapStick or lip gloss. Her breath pants against my upper lip, and I want so badly to open my eyes to gaze at her as we kiss, but I’m sure she would find that a little creepy.
I don’t push for more, but I’m pleasantly surprised when her mouth cracks open and her tongue darts out to glide across my still-closed lips. I don’t need a second invitation. I open mine, getting first a taste of her lip balm and then an unaltered taste of purely her.
I moan, my hands abandoning their hold on the door of her truck and dive into her hair, locking us together. The heat we create is enough to fight off any cold we feel.
Chapter Ten
Angelica
It's the alcohol.
That's what I tell myself when my body does the exact opposite of what my mind is commanding of it as his strong hands grab hold and trap me between my truck, which I should not be driving, and his firm, warm body.
I know it's Chase.
Just like all those years ago, I swear I have a sixth sense when it comes to the too-good-looking clown of a bastard.
Lips graze over my ear before he speaks. They brush enticingly against the shell of my ear no longer covered by my hair. "Don't run away, babe. We can be pretty fucking great together."
That does the trick.
Like my body touched a live wire. Because, let's face it, that's exactly what Chase Thorne is to me. My body is ready to listen to my inebriated mind. Using his startled state to my advantage, I manage to get out from between him and my truck and take off, running back into the bar. I'm half tempted to ditch the shoes when I hear the thumping of his booted feet closing the distance. I just barely get into the door when I feel him at my back again.
I can't let him get to me. Darting left instead of the right I was pointed, I quickly find myself engulfed in the crowd and allow them to swallow me until I'm able to reach the ladies’ room.
If I'm not going to get away by driving—which was fucking stupid on my part, and I should know better—then I'm going to need another exit.
Lorelei.
My best friend, the only one I can confidently call to come to my rescue and not make a scene, shouts in my mind just as my back hits the closed door that most certainly doesn't lock, seeing as there are three stalls in here.
Hopefully, he didn't see me.
My hands shake, trembling to the point I'm struggling to get my phone out in order to dial the number I have memorized alongside my mom’s and grandma's.
Ring after ring, I begin to worry my lip that she won't pick up. Likely due to some snooty stuck-up bullshit she puts up with from Charles.
I keep telling her they need to break up, but she claims I don't understand. I have freedom in my life, and she has expectations her parents have always forced upon her.
