See Me After Class(59)

“Okay, well . . . have a good night, then.”

I start to walk past her when she stops me, placing her hand on my bare chest. I suck in a sharp breath and then stare at her, my blood immediately pooling in my groin.

Innocent eyes look up at me as she says, “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“No need to thank me,” I say. “It’s better than you driving.”

“I know. But still, it must be weird having me here.”

I shrug. “Didn’t think much of it.”

What a fucking lie, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’m the last thing on your mind.” Her hand drags down my chest and over my abs before dropping to her side. The light scrape of her fingernails over my skin just threw gasoline on the flame I have burning for this woman.

“Do you want to be on my mind?” I ask, my voice heavy, deep.

Her eyes flash to mine, indecision weighing heavily in them. “Thought maybe I was,” she says, turning away from me and leaning against the counter, her pert ass inches away from me. Did she just grant me an invitation?

Jaw clenched, my hands itching to reach out and touch her, I ask, “Why would you think that?”

She looks over her shoulder, and that’s when I catch it: seduction in her eyes. “Since you dressed up for me.”

She shifts, her ass so goddamn tempting that I feel my mouth go dry as I tell myself to stay still, not to reach out, not to fall under the spell she’s trying to cast.

“I didn’t dress up for you,” I say, keeping still, but hell . . .

She shifts again, and I’m fucking dying.

I want to touch her. I want to toss her up on the counter and get lost in her scent, in her wild hair.

I want to punish that mouth of hers, make her think twice before tempting me.

“Then why did you dress up?” she asks, turning toward me.

“Turn around.”

“What?” she asks, her brows furrowing.

“Turn. Back. Around.”

“Arlo—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” I say, my will slipping.

I feel it drain out of me, the wall she’s cracked inside me slowly crumbling.

The resistance falters, and I blame it on the lack of sleep and pants in this kitchen, because when she turns back around, my hand falls to her lower back as I step in behind her.

“You think I dressed up for you?” I ask, spanning my hand over her back and slipping it under her shirt. I feel her muscles bunch up along her spine as I move my hand higher.

“I can’t come up with another reason.”

“So you assume it’s for you?” I move my hand back down, loving the sharp intake of breath I hear.

“Wasn’t it?”

I lean over her back, my arousal pressing against her leg as I whisper, “It was for you.”

Her head twists to the side and she says, “Thank you.”

“Don’t make a thing of it,” I say, my lips brushing her ear. “And don’t ask me again.”

“Can’t make that promise,” she says, her voice breathless. “I have so many things I want to do with the English department.”

“Jesus, Gibson,” I curse and move my hand to the waistband of her thong. “Is it your personal goal to annoy me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “Is it your personal goal to turn me on and leave me horny and begging?”

My hand snags the string of her thong and I yank it down, letting it fall to the ground. She steps out of it without being asked and then sticks her ass out as if begging for my touch.

“Tell me,” I whisper, stepping to her side now and taking in the arch in her back and the curve of her bare ass. “Are you begging now?”

“No, I’m propositioning.”

I bring my hand back to her spine, where I drag her shirt up to the bottom of her shoulder blades and then leave it there, knowing the weight of her breasts won’t let it go any farther north. Then I glide my hand down until I reach the globe of her ass. My finger slides over the divot between her cheeks and then to the other side.

“God,” she grumbles, “you make me so hot, Arlo.”

“Are you wet?”

“The minute I saw you shirtless in the kitchen, I got wet.”

I smooth my hand over her ass, so fucking firm it drives my cock wild with need. “Did you think staying here would lead you to run into me?”

“No, but I’m glad I did.”

“So, you’re telling me, you walk around people’s houses in nothing but a thong and a tank top?” I run my finger down her crack, causing her head to fall to the counter in a deep exhale, as her ass pushes against my hand.

“Never.”

“So then this was for me?” I smooth my hand down her crack, and her legs are spread just enough where I can reach to her arousal.

Fuck . . .

She is so wet.

“Oh God,” she moans against the counter, and I quickly pull my hand away. In seconds, she lifts up and turns toward me, eyes awake now, needy. “Don’t.” Her voice is stern. “Don’t tease me, Arlo.”

“What were you expecting me to do? Finger you on my kitchen counter?” I glance down between us, unable to see the luscious spot between her legs in the dark, but well aware of how hard her nipples currently are.