Page 14

Somehow, I get through the lesson, but my mind keeps replaying the moment I laid eyes on him, sitting there with a knowing smirk on his handsome face, almost taunting me.

I avoided looking at him as much as possible. He didn’t engage with the lesson, something I was grateful for, yet I would normally call a student out on it and question them for their lack of engagement. Not today. Today, I don’t have it in me. I just can’t wait to get the hell out of here and try to figure out how badly I screwed up by giving myself over to him.

Standing, I plaster on a smile for the students as they filter out of the classroom. Every hair on my body stands on end with him still in the classroom. I can feel him like I do every morning, as if he’s burrowed beneath my skin.

My blood boils with a rage at the injustice, then I snap my head up as he saunters toward me like the predator he is. I swallow harshly under his scrutiny as his gray eyes fill with the same hunger I encountered only weeks ago.

“Little Red.” He smiles, and I hate how my body reacts to him as he licks his lips.

“What are you doing here, Rocco?” My heart thunders in my chest and my legs tremble at the use of his name.

His lips quirk, and I grind my teeth. Is this a joke to him?

“I’m a student.” He smiles broadly.

Hearing him say the words, despite me already knowing, has my body jolting, and I grip my desk to stabilize myself.

Oh god.

My chest heaves as panic sets in.

Oh, shit.

Reality hits me hard as my world crumbles around me. Everything I worked hard for diminished on a single word—student.

I mean, is he even legal?

“Shhh, calm down, Little Red.” His hand settles over my cheek, and I feel his touch deep in my core. “I think you’re having a panic attack. Breathe, baby, breathe through your nose.” His lip twitches.

The familiarity of his words is like electricity firing through my veins, sending a blaze of fury to snap me from my meltdown. I knock his hands away and step back, unsure of how he even ended up so close to me to begin with.

“Get off me. What the hell are you doing?” I snap, and he rubs his hand over his jaw, but I don’t miss the tic in his temple or the glare he slices toward me, something I’ve never encountered with him before. A pit of dread settles in my stomach at the realization of not knowing him at all.

He takes a deep breath and fixes his eyes to hold mine. “What I’m doing is taking what I want.” My eyes dart over his face. “And what I want, Little Red, is you.” The darkness in his tone sends a bolt of fear through me.

My heart skips a beat, and I tell myself it’s due to the horror of his admission, nothing else. He steps forward, forcing me to step back until my ass is flush against the desk, and he cages me in, his hand on either side of me as he stares into my soul, seeing the want and need I’ve been craving.

“Are you eighteen?” I mumble, my words sounding like a plea more than anything else.

“I am.”

I blow out a breath of relief while my heart hammers precariously.

He reaches out and toys with a strand of my hair. “You gave me the best birthday gift I could have asked for.”

His words stun me, and I struggle to speak. “Oh god.” I slap a hand over my mouth as I realize we fucked on his birthday. Self-loathing hits me like a Mack truck as sickness swirls in my stomach.

I screwed a student.

I fucked an eighteen-year-old and, even worse, I’ve been lusting after him ever since.