See Me After Class(38)

I hold my breath.

Waiting.

Anticipating what I know will be explosive.

What I know will be a passionate kiss full of hate.

Full of distaste.

Full of unadulterated emotion that neither of us seems to be able to control.

And as she sucks in a sharp breath, I prime myself, get ready for her lips on mine . . .

“We need to go,” she says, pushing at my chest and slipping out from under me.

Stuck in my position, one hand still leaning against the door, I look to the side and catch the flush of her cheeks, the fidgety movements as she attempts to right herself.

Pushing off the door, I drag my hand through my hair and try to calm the rapid beat of my heart. “You’re going to go out there like that? Flushed? Turned on?”

Her eyes widen. “I’m not turned on.”

“You’re not?” I ask, brow raised, moving closer again. “So if I feel your pulse, it wouldn’t be pounding just as hard as mine?”

She shakes her head, backing up until she reaches the wall.

“And if I moved in closer, you wouldn’t feel the need to reach out and touch me?” I leave nothing but a few inches between us.

“No,” she answers, keeping her hands at her sides as her body remains rigid, but her eyes give her away.

Moving in the last few inches, I drag my fingers down her neck and across her collarbone. Her head rolls to the side and her mouth parts.

Her hand falls to the waistline of my athletic shorts, her fingers slipping against the elastic, dipping in just enough to drive me fucking crazy with need.

Swallowing hard, I catch my breath as I say, “And if I were to drag my hand between your spread legs . . . would you be wet?”

Her eyes flash to mine with lust in them. Hunger. Need.

Whatever answer she gives me, I know, right here and now . . . she wants me, just as badly as I want her.

“Arlo, I . . .” Her breath catches, she licks her lips, and her fingers rub against my skin.

Fuck . . .

I take her jaw in my hand, angle it up and stare at her luscious lips. Pink, wet, ready.

I lower.

Foreheads connect.

Noses brush.

Lips seconds away—

“Arlo, where’s the mac and cheese?” Coraline yells from the kitchen. “I can’t find . . . Oh, it’s in the oven. Don’t worry, everyone, it’s in the oven.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter in frustration and push away from Greer. Back turned toward her, I grip the back of my neck with both hands and catch my breath.

What the hell am I doing?

There are people in the other room, and I’m seconds away from taking Greer up against my office wall. This isn’t who I am.

Not even close.

We were discussing a student—how did it turn into this, seconds away from kissing a woman I despise?

Blowing out a heavy breath, I turn around to find Greer staring back at me, her nipples hard, her eyes crazed, almost as if she’s trying to discern what just happened as well.

We stand there staring at each other, both trying to catch our breath, both with arousal evident in our body language.

She takes a step forward, and I quickly say, “Don’t.”

Her eyes widen.

“Don’t fucking come near me, Greer.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I said don’t come near me.” I pull on my hair, telling myself to stay in place, to not go over there and kiss the confusion off her face.

Getting involved with her would be an epically bad idea. Not only do we seem to be at each other’s throats whenever we get the chance, but she’s younger than me, a new teacher in town, and I share a wall with her at school. It all screams bad decision.

Ignoring my request, she charges toward me and pokes me in the chest. “You’re the one who made the first move. What am I supposed to do, sit back and let you play with me like that?”

“It was a mistake.”

“You’re damn right it was a mistake. Jesus, Arlo.”

Standing tall, I glance at her lips one last time and then smile, which only turns up the volume on her anger.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Nothing.”

I walk past her toward the door and once again she stops me right before I can exit. “No, not nothing. Why are you smiling?”

“Your nipples. They’re perfectly hard, begging for my mouth.”

She glances at her breasts and then quickly covers them up with her arms. “You’re an asshole.”

“So you’ve said before. Doesn’t mean you don’t want me.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“Imagine what you’d be thinking if I actually drove my tongue into your mouth.” On that, I let myself out of my office and head to the kitchen, where Coraline is the only one left filling up a plate. Everyone else is outside.

She lifts her brow at me and I ignore her, collecting a plate and filling it up, only for an irritated Greer to follow closely behind. She picks up a plate and bumps me out of the way, helping herself to the mac and cheese before me.

Coraline laughs and mumbles, “Oh, tonight should be fun.”





“Whack that cock,” Stella yells.

Romeo reaches back, swings his racket with all his might, and wallops the shuttlecock straight into the net.