Page 48 of Unsupervised
“You avoided me after I kissed you. Is it just that I’m not your student anymore?”
His nose nuzzles into my hair. “I was trying to do the right thing. Stay away from you until the semester was up, at least. You’re a hard person to resist.” His hand slides into mine, our fingers interlocking. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“You were thinking about me?”
“Constantly. Your smile, your laugh.” He punctuates his words with kisses on my bare shoulder and my skin tingles in the most wonderful way. His voice is deep and more coarse than I’ve ever heard it when he murmurs in my ear. “What it would feel like to get you underneath me, how you’ll look when I make you come. What noises you’ll make when I do it again.”
His words are the most exquisite torture when I know I can’t have what I want. “I have never hated my uterus more in my entire life than I do right this second.”
The bed shakes with his laughter, and after a few seconds, I can’t help but join in. The bedroom door swings open and Midnight comes bounding onto the bed, making us laugh harder as he does his best to lie between us. He finally settles for sleeping at our feet, and I drift off thinking about how amazing it is to be here.
With a man I want to be with.
When I wake the next morning, the bed is empty, but the scent of bacon and coffee smells amazing. I can hear Layton banging around the kitchen, making breakfast. The level of excitement I feel just to see him again is ridiculous. It occurs to me I must look like warmed over hell, and I hurry to grab my clothes and toiletries from my bag before heading into the bathroom.
Stripping down to my underwear, I brush my teeth, wash my face and run a comb through my tangled hair. Just as I’m changing my tampon, Midnight noses his way through the door I must not have closed hard enough.
“Back up, buddy,” I laugh, tossing the tampon in the trash can and putting in another. In half a second, Midnight plunges his head into the trash can, grabs the used tampon and darts out the door like a streak of lightning.
It takes a moment for me to realize and my panicked reaction is not one of my finer moments. After the bloodfest last night, I absolutely can’t have the dog running around with my used tampon. Surely, the universe could not be so cruel and heap that much humiliation on one person in a twenty-four-hour time period.
“No, get back here!” I hiss and run down the hall after him. “Midnight!”
With the string dangling from his mouth, he stops in the hall and leaps back and forth like this is the greatest game he’s ever played. “Bring it here,” I order, keeping my voice low and praying Layton won’t hear. “Come on,” I cajole. “That’s a good puppy. Give it here.”
One step toward Midnight is all I get before he retreats farther, bouncing around and trying to get me to chase him. Damn it. For the first time in my life, I understand Cruella Deville’s hatred for dogs because I swear if he doesn’t give me that damn thing before Layton—
“Hey.”
Fuck. Fuckety fuck and all the fucks.
Layton stares down at me, confusion mixed with amusement written on his face. “What’s going on?”
It doesn’t occur to me until that moment that I’m still only wearing panties. I’m crouched down in the hallway, hissing insults at his dog in nothing but panties. For the longest moment, I’m just frozen with no idea what to say.
My explanation isn’t necessary anyway because the puppy, who I’d have no problem turning into a coat about now trots over to Layton and drops the bloody tampon at his feet like he’s presenting him with the best gift ever.
There are no words for the level of embarrassment I feel the moment Layton realizes what it is. What do I do? Do I run over and pick it up? The insane urge to kick it is hard not to act on, like that would do any good now that he’s seen it.
“I—he came in the bathroom.” It’s all I can manage, and I see Layton piecing it together in his head. My face burns like fire when he reaches down and plucks it up by the string.
“I’m sorry. He likes to dig in the trash. I’ll put him outside for a bit, so he won’t bother you.”
When I just stand there like an ice sculpted idiot while he throws it away, he adds, “Are you okay?”
Nope. Dying of mortification. “Yeah, fine,” I mumble, and retreat to the bathroom where I now plan to spend the rest of my life.
How many times am I going to get blood on this man?
Chapter Thirteen
Layton
Kelly joins me for breakfast and neither of us brings up the whole tampon thing. I don’t want to embarrass her any more than she already is, though the memory of her almost naked in my hallway trying desperately to get Midnight to listen makes me swallow back a laugh.
“I want to ask you something,” she says, nibbling on a piece of bacon. “The activities director agreed to the little show I want to put on at Shady Acres next month for my music class project.”
“I’ll definitely be there.”