I made one stop at a florist by the station and picked up a dozen roses. Dark red, almost black.
There were signs, pointing towards the exam hall, but I stayed outside the school gates, solidly immune to the questioning glances of the teachers and the tittering of the milling school girls in their uniforms. After the third group whispering behind their hands and strolling slowly past the gates, I realised I’d become an attraction.
Their attention only irritated me.
I was only interested in one woman here, and she outstripped every single child here.
Eventually, the doors to the sports hall opened, and I watched a mass of chattering girls stream out, arms looped, talking a mile a minute about question six and question four. I didn’t give a shit. My entire body tensed, focus as honed as it would be picking out a target, trying to find Elizabeth’s face in the crowd.
I scanned every face twice, but she wasn’t there and I could feel the frustration brimming in me, when the doors opened again, and out she walked, on her own, shrugging into the straps of her backpack, head down as she slotted her headphones into her ears.
The older girls were more obvious about their interest in me being there. I was immune to their strappy tops, tight jeans and pretty smiles. They were children and I wasn’t interested at all.
“Who are those for? You could give them to me.” One of the girls said.
“I don’t think so.”
It was worth standing there so patiently when Elizabeth finally looked up. Her eyebrows darted high, surprise quickly schooled behind a look of wry amusement that I wanted to kiss off her face.
She barely broke step as she walked right up to me and the swarm of girls parted like a wave, casting nasty, petty looks in her direction. My hackles rose, and I heard myself growl. So help me God, I would have punched the lot of them out if I thought any of them came close to touching her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I heard you finished your exams.”
Elizabeth looked me over with a visible sweep of her eyes and a long, solid glance towards the motorbike.
“I did.”
“Well done.” I handed her the roses and she took them, shaking her head with an undisguised laugh.
“You know I’m going to work, right? Of course you do. You know my every move, don’t you, Maxim Toropov?”
I didn’t deny it. Neither of us moved. She was weighing me up, gauging my intentions with the instincts of a person who had trained for years to handle a hostile engagement. I waited it out until her suspicions eased up.
“You deserve better than you have.”
Her eyes narrowed and she looked away, down, shook her head. “And you’re offering that, are you?”
“Absolutely.”
She rolled her eyes, and I knew she was about to step away. “I don’t think you can help me.”
“I disagree. I think we can help each other. We have a mutual problem. There’s a better way to get rid of it. I prefer to be more hands on.”
“Oh really?” Her smile warmed again, and I knew I’d said the right thing. “Is that what this is? Dresses, flowers… I hope you don’t think you can buy me.”
“Ms Harrington, I wouldn’t dare dream of it. But I am going to kiss you now.”
Her grip on the roses shifted and she turned them stem up, letting the flowers hang down as I stepped in close to her. For a minute it looked like she was going to try to stab me with them and I raised a brow. Her eyes narrowed and her free hand reached out, settling almost automatically on the sharp cut of my hip. It was meant to go there, just like I was made to do this. I bowed my neck to rest my forehead against hers, breathing in and her breathing out.
What came next wasn’t gentlemanly at all, and there wasn’t a single part of me that wanted it to be. My mouth on hers was hard and desperate, closing over her lips as I drew her in solidly against me. She let me in with the sweetest moan and I plundered her mouth with my searching tongue. She must have known deep down what I’d wanted from her since the first time I’d set eyes on her, but now I couldn’t hide it. I was hard as granite up against her hips and fucking her sweet mouth with slow strokes of my tongue. I could feel her short nails against the back of my neck, holding me close, urging me on. She was bowed against me, flush to my chest, her small breasts pressed to me and her breathing heavy.
Another thirty seconds and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.
I only pulled back to snarl when someone yelled “Get a room!” and I heard the shutter sound of the camera on someone’s cell phone. A wolf-whistle aborted abruptly as I glared at our little audience, and half a dozen school girls suddenly remembered they had better places to be when I stomped forward, making a grab for the phone.