Need Me (Broke and Beautiful #2)(9)

“Yes.” She rubbed her thighs together, trying to dull the pulsing, but the movement made it worse. Strengthened it. “Please.”

Slowly, so slowly, he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. At the same time, his fingertips trailed down the back of her thong, dragging lightly down the center of her bottom until they were between her legs. Honey held her breath as he placed pressure over her clit with two fingers, testing, torturing. He let her bottom lip go with a pop, then moved to her top one, sucking it into his mouth with a savoring noise. His lips, his fingers were sparking so many sensations inside of her that she couldn’t focus on any of them. She could only hang in some sensual balance and wait for what he chose to do next.

Ben released her top lip, and she could feel him staring at her in the dark, even though the air was ink black, impossible to see through. His breath was warm and ragged on her face as he hooked his two fingers into her panties and drew them to the side. Their lips slipped together, meshed, but didn’t kiss. There was too much anticipation hanging in the air, and neither of them wanted to upset it. His knuckle nudged against her clit and Honey gasped.

“This is where you’re soft, babe. Right here.” He drew his knuckle through her folds, back and forth, in a devastating pattern. “Does this soft * need something hard?”

The closet door flew open.

BEN OPERATED ON instinct, crowding his girl—his girl?—against the wall and yanking down her skirt at the same time. As soon as light had flooded the closet, she’d ducked her head and tucked it under his chin. It was a gesture that had taken the crazy, protective feeling she’d instilled in him and ramped it up about eighty notches until he wanted to strangle whoever had interrupted them. Sweet. She was so sweet and hot, and f*ck why wasn’t he still kissing her? She’d been so wet for him that he could barely think past the need to feel her again. Jesus, she still had her hand on his cock, like she’d forgotten it was there. He hadn’t forgotten. And his cock definitely wasn’t showing any signs of forgetting anytime soon, either.

He squinted into the hallway light to find Russell and—was that Abby?—staring back at them, mouths agape. Of course, Russell spoke first. What else was new? “Well, this explains why you were late.”

“Do you mind shutting the goddamn door?” Ben growled. His girl shook her head, bumping his chin and reminding him of their predicament. The initial one, anyway. “Oh, right. Don’t close it. We were locked in.” Let me out of here so I can get this girl somewhere private. I’ll worry about my bullshit rules tomorrow. Need her now.

“Honey?” Abby looked concerned. “You okay under there?”

Honey. Ben shook off the recognition at hearing the name of his student, Ms. Perribow. Abby had obviously meant the word as an endearment, not a name . . . right? But the longer his girl stayed tucked under his chin, refusing to raise her head, a sinking feeling took over his stomach. She was completely covered now, and thankfully—or not thankfully, depending on how you looked at it—had removed her hand from his dick. There was no reason for her to be hiding. Unless she was extremely shy, but he hadn’t gotten that impression from her. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“Hey.” He pushed her blond hair out of the way and leaned down to murmur in her ear. “You okay?”

She blew out a breath and looked him in the eye. And his world ground to a halt. No way. This was a dream. His alarm clock would go off in a minute and he’d be back in his studio apartment in Bushwick. Not looking down into the eyes of his student. No. Not just any student.

“Lolita,” he whispered.

“Who?” Abby asked from the doorway. “Her name is Honey. And I’m not judging, but that seems like something you might have chatted about before kissing in a dark closet.”

Ben grabbed her shoulders and eased her away, his throat dry as dust. Lolita, Ms. Honey Perribow, and closet seductress. All the same girl. One and the same. The holy trinity of hot, intelligent, endearing girl, and he couldn’t have her. But she hadn’t given him a choice, dammit. He hated, hated, the desire that flared even brighter at the sight of her face in the light. Beautiful. Way too young for him. But completely and utterly beautiful.

And a liar.

“You knew it was me,” Ben grated, scenes from his past rushing through his mind like a sick slide show. “There’s no way you couldn’t have known after listening to me lecture for hours. You knew. And you pretended not to.”

“Uh-oh,” Russell said to his left. “She’s one of his—”

“Students?” Abby finished, then gasped. “Oh my God, this is him? This is—”

“Abby, stop,” Honey croaked, face bright red. He could tell it wasn’t easy for her to look up at him, but he squashed any kind of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to lock yourself into a dark closet with me, and I just . . . it wasn’t supposed to go that far.”

Ben laughed a little too loudly. His neck was on fire. He had to get out of there. When he looked at her, all he saw was her deception. The same deception his father had faced so many years ago. The one that had bankrupted him, his family. All for a pretty young girl. Ben had sworn it would never happen to him, that he would never allow his body to overrule his common sense, and she, this girl, had done it to him three times in one day. No, four. Four. If you count his insane urge to throw her up against the wall and give her a nice, hard f*ck for doing this to him. Stranding him in lust with a liar.