Page 20

Chapter Thirteen

Hallie

W hy does the nickname Little Red affect me? The way he delivers it with his filthy tongue wraps around me so possessively my body melts into his with a submission I didn’t know I possessed until recently.

Red is considered danger, yet all I feel is safe in his arms.

Red normally means stop, when all I want to do is go.

And red is normally a flag hung as a warning to retreat, and no part of me wants to heed with caution. I only want to throw myself in there and bask in those deterrents.

“I’m not going anywhere, Little Red, and neither are you. Nothing and no one will keep you from me. Ever.” His words play out as I tug my laptop bag up on my shoulder.

After swallowing his cum, he allowed me to slip off the desk, and before he left the room, he turned his head over his shoulder and told me not to shower tonight.

As I rush toward my car, all I can think about is doing the opposite of what he asked. The guilt and confusion of having sex with one of my students sends a wave of nausea through me, and I want to wash it away. Even if I like the thought of complying, I’ve no intentions of doing that.

I can’t.

This can’t happen.

It can’t. No matter how much I crave him.

He’s like a drug, and I’m the addict. He’s feeding me, fueling my inhibitions with his own, and threatening to ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to gain.

His warped words of pleasure speak to me on a level I’ve never known before. Maybe that’s it? I’ve been so used to bland sex that I’ve clutched onto the first person to offer me a more dangerous and daring experience.

It has to be.

Because Rocco and me cannot happen.

No matter how much I want to bathe in red.