“That’s a relief then,” Fyre says. He nods as he puts his container down and then starts glancing around my apartment. “Could you point me in the direction of your bathroom?”
Oh fuck.
“You…uh…now?” My heart starts galloping. I’m pretty sure it’s a fucking mess in there. Underwear, dirty clothes. When last did I wash out the sink?
Shit, shit, shit!
“I just want to wash my hands,” he says, a crooked smile jumping onto his lips.
“Oh, I just use the kitchen sink. Water pressure is much better.” I stab a finger toward the basin. Not so much showing him where it is as demanding that he use it instead.
“That sucks,” he says through a laugh as he goes over to wash his hands. “Pressure that bad in the shower too?”
“Oh no, that’s fine. Maybe it’s from a different pipe or something.” Oh my God, the lies! How am I ever going to keep all this shit straight?
Fyre wipes his hands on a paper towel he tore off from the roll tossed haphazardly onto the counter, walking closer with a broad smile on his face.
It’s unreal how he fills my apartment with his presence, with his size. In the classroom, I never realized just how big he was. How tall, how broad-shouldered. But here? I feel like I’ve let a giant into my home.
He’s headed straight for me, which I guess is the closest route back to his seat after visiting the kitchen sink. But he stops a foot away, towering over me until I’m forced to crane back my head and look up.
At the sight of his expression, I shoot to my feet.
His eyes are narrowed, his jaw bunched. “Wait a second,” he says.
Oh fuck.
I want to step back, to keep away from him in case he lashes out at me. I don’t know why that’s suddenly a possibility, but the instant I think about it, I can’t get it out of my head.
“What is it?”
“Your mother cleared up the misunderstanding over the phone, then why did you run out of the diner like Satan himself was chasing you?”
Not Satan.
You.
I was terrified of you.
Like how I am now. My heart beating so fast in my chest.
Fyre steps closer. His full mouth is set in a straight line. “Why are you lying to me, Charlotte?”
His earthy, woody scent envelops me. I’m sucked into his eyes like they’re whirlpools out on some midnight ocean.
Trapped, again.
My heart pounding in my chest.
But is it fear…or excitement?
He opens his mouth again, his expression becoming even sterner, and I do the only thing I can think of to stop him from scolding me.
I kiss him.
I have to grab hold of his jacket and haul myself onto the tips of my toes to get it right, but I do it. I kiss Professor Fyre like my life depends on it. But the second after our mouths touch, I’m not pretending anymore.
I’ve been dreaming about this moment for weeks.
And it’s just how I pictured it would be. Wild, and violent, and utterly intoxicating.
No, fuck that.
This is better. This is far better than anything I could ever, ever have imagined.
Chapter Five
Fyre
I’m thankful the rain has passed. Forecasts predict a clear—if chilly—weekend.
All the better to stalk you with, my dear Charlotte.
I’m parked in my sedan directly opposite her apartment building. I never drive this to the college, so she can’t know it’s mine. Or that I’m inside, watching.
I’m conflicted as fuck right now. Guess I have been since the moment she laid that pretty mouth of hers on mine. Hell, maybe even before that. I suppose I knew I was fucked the moment she first slipped silently into my class, shoulders hunched and face hidden behind her hair as if she would be all too happy if no one ever noticed her.
But I did, Charlotte. I noticed you, and I locked on to your scent, your presence, like a motherfucking bloodhound.
Now I sit here, stewing. I want to race up those stairs and demand you close your curtains so everyone and their dog can’t happen to look up right into your bedroom. But I want to look into your bedroom, so you can’t very well be closing your curtains, can you?
I rub my palm against my thighs, the thick jeans creating friction with my skin. It’s ten o’clock on a Saturday night. Someone your age should be out dancing. Drinking with friends. Fuck it, watching a movie if you’re into that.
But here you are, alone in your apartment, with only your bedroom light on. At this angle, I can see only the vague suggestion of a lamp and a bedpost. You haven’t come close enough to the window for me to see you.
I jerk at a touch to my lips and snatch my hand away from my mouth. I felt the desperation in your kiss. Fuck, it trembled through your entire body when I slid my hands around your back and dragged you up against me.
Did you think it would make me forget that you lied to me? That you tried to cover up the fact that I scare you?
My fingers trace the outline of my lips.
God, but you taste so good, little Charlotte. You’ve poisoned me with that sweet mouth of yours. And still, I want more.
My phone is on the seat beside me. I’m so tempted to call her, but the time isn’t right. If I fuck up now, I fuck up for good. I’ll lose my chance to be with her in the way I so badly want to.
My cock hardens at the thought of being inside her. Having her pussy grip me, desperate. Hungry.
Just like her mouth.
Just like my soul. I could have devoured every inch of her supple body last night, but when I slid my hand over her tit, she pushed me away. Wearing a scandalized expression like she’d never considered the thought that there could be more than
