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“Aren’t we all?” he replies with a chuckle before he goes back to the grill.
Maybe that’s why finding her car has been my priority, why I can’t sleep until I get it back to her in one piece.
It’ll be my apology. One that doesn’t require me to be in the same room with the girl. She’s too damn tempting, and I don’t think I could handle her expressing any more gratitude.
I can’t ever cross that line, no matter how much my dick may want her.
No, it’s not just my dick wanting her. It’s every fucking cell in my body.
CHAPTERSIX
Holly
Ilinger around the Perrys’ house all afternoon. My excuse was that I didn’t have my keys, so I couldn’t get in the apartment until I got a spare from my landlord, who, as it happened, was taking his sweet time.
Not that I actually had called my landlord.
I think I was hoping to stay here another night where I knew I could sleep without fear of an intruder.
And maybe I was also hoping Isaac would come to the bedroom tonight, even if it was a long shot.
If he wanted me, he would’ve touched me last night. But he didn’t. He liked looking at me, sure. It was impossible to miss the proof in his pants, the way he pressed his hand against that long, thick bulge like he was in desperate need of relief.
Any other man would’ve reacted the same.
Isaac just wasn’t turned on enough to actually act on those feelings.
He’s a grown man, not some horny teenager or college frat boy.
Most men aren’t like Professor Stanton, who gladly used his position to take advantage of scared students.
Not that Isaac would’ve been taking advantage of me.
I was the one who undressed in front of him. I was the one who lay down on the bed, spreading my legs for him in invitation. And I’m the one who thought touching myself would be enough to seduce him.
Guess he was right after all.
Iama slut. A slut who tried to sleep with her best friend’s father behind her back.
When I hear a motorcycle rumbling outside that afternoon while I’m sitting in the living room with Mrs. Perry, watching courtroom dramas, I start to panic.
I jump to my feet and make excuses about needing to use the restroom to escape before I have to face Isaac.
Through the hall bathroom door, I hear the garage door open and close, then can barely make out his low, gravelly voice talking to Mrs. Perry.
Shit.
What am I going to do? Hide in the bathroom like a coward all night?
Last night, the alcohol made me more confident, more brazen than I would normally be. Or at least that’s what I’m blaming my actions on.
Now, though, totally sober with nothing to think about but my stupidity all day, I don’t know how to face him.
Before I can get my nerve up, though, I hear a door shut hard, followed by that loud, rumbling motorcycle engine again.
“He’s leaving?” I blurt the words out loud in disbelief. I’m angry, and I realize it’s because I wanted a chance to see him despite my cowardice. And now, he’s gone again.
When I open the bathroom door, Mrs. Perry meets me in the hallway, a big smile on her face.
