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He linked his fingers through mine. “Everyone makes mistakes. It’s what they do afterward that matters.” He gestured around the hallway. “I’d say you more than made up for it.”
“I try.” I squeezed his hand, remembering the feeling of his rough palms against mine. The gentle scratch of the hair on his hands. But soon we reached my office and I had to let go. Unlocking the door took two hands and some jiggling of the knob.
As soon as the door opened, Ralphie fluttered his wings loudly inside the cage.
I grinned at my companion. “Hi, Ralphie. Do you remember Cohen?”
“Hi, Ralphie,” Cohen cooed.
My bird seemed to settle, taking him in.
Cohen extended his finger, and Ralphie gently nipped it.
I smiled between the two of them, then realized I should have been getting the food. Should have been looking anywhere other than at the man who was becoming more attractive by the second.
I reached into the filing cabinet to get his food and busied myself taking care of my bird. As I poured his food and water, Cohen leaned back on the table where I usually met with parents or larger groups, watching.
I felt his eyes on me with every move, and I wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking about my size? My curly hair? The pattern on my dress?
Was he thinking about kissing me as much as I was thinking about kissing him?
I cleared my thoughts. This was dangerous—now that we were in the school together, alone, I couldn’t believe I’d been so risky. All it would take was one teacher showing up to grade or pick up a forgotten item, and we’d be busted. I was the worst liar, alibi or not.
I spent a little longer fussing over Ralphie’s dishes than I normally would, then put the food containers and water bottle away and rubbed sanitizer over my hands.
Cohen was still quiet, but when I drew the courage to meet his stare, he was looking right at me.
My breath caught in my chest as I took him in, the firmness of his jaw, the sharp swell of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips. He was like a flame, and my moth’s wings drew me ever closer. I needed to say it. That we couldn’t be more than friends. That we couldn’t be alone again. “Thank you,” I breathed, “for today.”
Only a couple of feet of space separated us, but he took my fingers, drawing me closer until I stood between his legs, my hips brushing either side of his denim-clad knees. “Seeing you smile was worth every second.”
My heartbeat sped, and my brain begged me to do it. To stop this before I reached the edge where I knew I couldn’t return. But instead, I stood frozen, only inches between us. I could see the folds of fabric on his shirt where it bunched around his shoulders. Watch the rise and fall of his chest. See his tongue wet his lips.
For a moment we stood, not parting, not drawing closer, our breaths mingling in the small space that separated us.
Then his eyes moved to my mouth, and I couldn’t wait, couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull away. Not with my body calling for his.
As if on cue, his hand reached for the back of my neck, and he drew me to him until our lips met in beautiful, merciful, passion-filled lust.
My body responded to his in a way it never had to any other man’s. My nipples hardened against his chest, my breathing grew ragged, and all I wanted was more. More of Cohen’s mouth against mine. More of him against me.
I linked my arms around his shoulders as he moved his mouth from my lips to my cheek, his teeth grazing my earlobe, down my tender throat, and a moan of longing escaped my mouth. His hands slid slowly down my back to my ass and pulled me tighter against him.
How could I say no when my body was screaming, crying, yes? I wanted Cohen. Here and now. And by the hardness pressing into my hip through his jeans, he felt the same.
“I’ve wanted to touch you all day,” he said, his voice husky in my ear.
The cool tickle of his breath combined with his words was dizzying. Intoxicating. “I’ve wanted you too,” I admitted, placing a kiss along the rough stubble of his chin.
His fingers toyed with the bottom edge of my dress, setting the skin of my thighs alight with sensation. The reasonable voice in my mind saying this was a bad idea had been silenced by everything in me screaming to put an end to this need. To take him in my office like the bad girl I never thought I could be.
But then my eyes landed on my degree hanging on the wall. The one I’d worked so hard for and was still paying student loans for.
This career meant more to me than a moment of passion. And I’d deal with the fallout of that later, but right now, I stepped back and whispered, “Cohen?”
His green eyes searched mine, and he nodded. “Let’s get you home.”
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