See Me After Class(65)

“Okay.” Nyema looks at me, confused. Jesus, I’m making it worse. I can sense that’s what’s happening. I need to shut my mouth and leave. “Anyway, homecoming, sure. Whatever you need, I’m there. I have no life so I’m available. I mean, besides the book club, but that’s once a month, nothing to worry about. And you know, I wasn’t even sure I was going to participate.”

“That’s not what—”

“Your commentary isn’t welcome right now,” I say, hand up to him. Smiling maniacally, I say, “Lunch is calling, thanks for this meeting. Oh, and did I mention, that top on you is stunning?”

“Thank you, Greer,” Nyema says with a smile while looking at her pink shirt. “And great job with the volleyball team. We’ve been impressed with the progress you’ve made.”

“Thank you.”

I give her one more smile and as I walk out of her office, I hear her say to Arlo, “Go easy on her, Arlo.” They both chuckle, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight, anger boiling in the pit of my stomach.

How could he possibly talk like that in front of our boss? Embarrass me like that?

Not looking back, I charge toward my classroom. Without even turning around, I know Arlo is hot on my heels, because when I reach my classroom and try to shut the door, he stops it with his hand and squeezes inside, only to shut the door behind him and lock it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why the fuck did he do that? Making me look like a fool in front of the woman who controls my position here. Why? Pranks are one thing, but this is pushing the envelope.

Spinning on my heels, I look him in the eyes and say, “That was absolutely humiliating.”

“Wasn’t for me.” Zero emotion crosses his expression, and it takes everything in me not to wipe that blank look off his face.

“That’s because you weren’t the one being picked on. She’s our boss and I’m a new teacher. I don’t need her knowing about the Ladies in Heat Book Club. I need her to take me seriously. Arlo, you humiliated me.”

“She’s a person, too, you know. You walked in there with a stick up your ass. Thought I’d loosen you up.”

“I don’t need you to loosen me up.”

“Really?” he asks, taking a step forward. “Sure seems like it.”

I look him up and down as he approaches. “What are you doing?”

He moves in—silently—and I back up until I hit the edge of my desk.

“Don’t think you can touch me and I’ll forget what just happened.”

Closing the space between us, his hands land on my hips and he lifts me up on my desk.

“I’m serious, Arlo. Don’t you have a salad to eat?”

His eyes practically turn black when he says, “I’d rather eat you.”

In seconds, he’s leaning forward, and his hands are crawling up under my dress to the waistband of my thong.

“You are not about to go down on me in my classroom.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asks, slipping my thong off before I can stop him. He takes the thin fabric and stuffs it in his back pocket, then pushes me back so I’m leaning on my elbows.

“Arlo—”

He lifts my skirt up and exposes me as he squats down. Looking up at me, he says, “Tell me now, right now. Tell me you don’t want this.”

I mean . . . I am mad at him, but if he were to rub his finger between my legs right now, I know he’d be extremely happy with how turned on I am.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with such cockiness, that if his head wasn’t dipping between my legs, I’d kick him in the chest.

But damn my body and my need for this man. I let him pull me to the edge and spread my legs just before his face falls between my legs, his fingers part me, and his tongue finds my clit.

“Oh God,” I say quietly, sifting my hand through his hair. “This . . . this shouldn’t be happening.”

He pulls away. “Then tell me to stop.”

Not saying a word, I press his hand to my center, then hear a light chuckle before he goes back to work, and it’s the most glorious and erotic thing I’ve ever done.

It doesn’t negate the fact that I’m still mad at him, or that I want to rip that cardigan off his body and smother him with it, but if I can get a little pleasure before I perform my act of murder, then it’s worth the wait.

He moves his fingers to my entrance and presses two inside, scooping upward, making stars burst behind my eyes.

“Arlo,” I whisper, shifting my hips, my body already humming, buzzing, climbing to the apex of my orgasm.

Is it really that easy for him? For him to pull pleasure from me in seconds? It shouldn’t be possible. Moments ago, I was livid. Desperate to be left alone. But now . . .

Pushing at my legs, spreading me even more, he drives his tongue harder against my clit, the sensation rocking me to my core.

“Oh shit,” I say breathlessly as his tongue flicks softly, only to drive down again.

My legs quiver.

My stomach bottoms out.

A wave of numbness washes over me and pools between my legs.

“I’m going to come,” I whisper, just for him to pull away. “Arlo,” I whisper yell, aware that we’re still in the classroom. “What are you doing?”