Page 29 of Devil's Kiss

Jordan rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the way his pulse sped up and his chest filled with pride at Derek’s admission. It meant a lot to know that he was touching a student’s life through his teachings.

He slowly removed his hand and placed it on the steering wheel, ten and two, and when he finally trusted his voice again, he said, “Thank you. That means a lot. Now, if you’re quite done…”

“I am.”

“Let’s go and get that coffee.”

Chapter 8

AFTER THE SHORT drive to the café, Derek took a seat in the far back corner and waited for Professor—no, Jordanto grab their coffees.

He took the moment by himself to watch the man at the counter talking animatedly with the barista, who was giving Jordan a sunny smile as he pointed to two pastries and then tapped his chin, as if thinking about what drink to order.He’s my complete opposite, Derek thought as he continued to observe the guy, and once Jordan was handed their drinks, he tucked two paper bags under his arm and made his way through the practically empty tables to where Derek sat.

When he arrived and lowered down to place the drinks and food on the table, Jordan sighed. “Geez, Derek. Be sure to pick the farthest table next time.”

Derek shrugged, taking the grande coffee as Jordan slipped into the seat opposite him. “Sorry. I didn’t really want to have this conversation with anyone else listening.”

When understanding dawned in Jordan’s eyes, he asked, “Is this to do with your father?”

Derek gave a grim nod. “I see you’ve heard about the infamous Bud Pearson.”

“I haven’t heard much. But I’m a smart guy. I can put two and two together.”

“Yeah, I’ve read how smart you are. A real brainiac or something.”

Jordan winked as he raised his coffee cup to his lips and said, “Or something. I see you’ve been doing your homework.”

Derek studied the man eyeing him from across the table. “Well, I am in school,professor.”

Jordan scoffed. “Really? You’re calling me professor? You just told me in my car you want to?—”

“Fuck you? I know. I also told you that I wouldn’t because it’s too complicated.”

“Don’t be glib.”

“Who’s being glib? I’m dead serious. While it would be”—Derek ran his eyes over Jordan as he eyed him with a piqued expression that made his balls tighten—“an experience I’d never forget, I just have too much going on.”

Jordan leaned across the table, and Derek’s cock throbbed when he narrowed his eyes on him. “Trying to shock me? It won’t work. How about you stick to the real reason you called me. Not the fact that you can’t stop thinking about how much you want me to teach you a really solid lesson on?—”

“My knees?” Derek offered, and watched Jordan’s lips curl into a grin.

“I’m not going to bite, Derek.”

Derek flashed his teeth in a wicked grin. “Can I?”

“Lord save me from the bad boys,” Jordan said as he aimed his eyes to the ceiling.

“Is that what you think I am? A bad boy?”

“Have you seen you?”

Derek looked down at himself: jeans with a couple of holes in the legs, a white T-shirt, and his boots. Pretty standard for him, and boring compared to the guy seated opposite him. “What about me?”

Jordan reached for one of the paper bags on the table and shook his head. “You really don’t see it?”

“No?”

“The muscles, the tattoos, the nail polish. That attitude.”