Oh God. I’m going to do something monumentally foolish and beg him to extinguish the fire he’s stoked inside me. To do it with those large, graceful hands. With his wicked tongue. With that powerful body.
With his big cock.
I shiver, and from the quicksilver flicker in those gray depths, he catches it. His full lips part, and I swear I hear his coarse rasp of air. And it brushes over my skin, scrapes over my nipples. Grazes my lower belly. Caresses my clit and already wet flesh.
My desk phone buzzes, and Lena’s voice echoes through the intercom. “Ms. Roberts, Mrs. Reyes is on line one for you.”
I press the reply button and silently thank the patron saint of timely interruptions. “Thanks, Lena.” Releasing the button, I return my attention to Asa and fix what I hope is a polite but distant smile on my face. “I have a call, Asa. Thanks for coming in to talk about Rose. And like I said, I promise to follow up on the other student.”
“India—”
“No.” I slam up a hand, palm out. “Not here and not now.” Not ever, if I have my way. “Please… just let it go.”
For a moment, he frowns, and his eyes darken, reminding me of a sky just before a storm hits. But then, his expression clears, and it’s that indecipherable mask again. Relief and frustration burrow through me, but when he turns and stalks toward the door, I don’t stop him.
And when he disappears into the outer office, I try to convince myself it’s for the best.
I almost succeed.
Almost.
Shaking my head, I reach for the phone receiver, but pause as the button for line one remains dim instead of lit up. Just as I hit the intercom button, Lena pokes her head around my doorway.
“Hey, you’re welcome for that diversion.” She strolls in and flops down in the chair Asa vacated. “I gave myself ten minutes before sending the date-from-hell save.” She arches an eyebrow. “Not that I would ever want to be saved from that guy. Rawr.” She paws the air.
Even as I stare at her and her pseudo cat claws in mingled shock and horror, a laugh surges up my throat. Settling for a snicker so I don’t encourage her too much, I roll my eyes and sink back down into my desk chair.
“And how do you know I needed to be rescued?”
“C’mon, India,” she scoffs, using my first name as opposed to the more formal Ms. Roberts. She addresses me casually when kids and parents aren’t around. “The way that man stared at you? I was going to throw either condoms or life jackets in there. And since your face had more of a Jack-sinking-into-icy-depths than a I-wanna-smash-that look, I went with the save.” Hazel eyes gleaming behind her retro glasses, she digs into the small bowl of peanut M&Ms on my desk. “So dish. What’s the deal between you two?”
Sighing, I fall back against the chair, tired. “It’s a long, complicated story.”
She pops a brown M&M in her mouth and chews, silently contemplating me. “Ben didn’t come home last night, and when I woke up this morning, there was a Dear John letter waiting for me on the dining room table. Apparently, I’m an ambition succubus, and my lack of motivation in settling for being a school secretary instead of pursuing a “real” career is bumming him out. So he’s taken off for Alaska to fulfill his life-long dream.” She pauses, and I can’t lie. I’m hanging on every. Fucking. Word. “Crab fishing in the Bering Sea. It seems Ben’s life-long dream is being an extra on Deadliest Catch.”
“Holy. Shit.” I whisper, stunned. No, flabbergasted. Her boyfriend of five years left her for a goddamn snow crab.
“Yep.” She tosses another piece of candy into her mouth and crunches loudly.
“Oh, Lena.” She might be flippant about the abrupt ending of her relationship, but now I glimpse the pain she’s managed to keep under wraps all day. “This calls for wine.”
“Yes. Wine and a mutual sharing of war stories. Friends don’t let friends share all their humiliating shit without serving up their own so they have blackmail ammo on each other. It’s just not done. Bad form, Roberts.”
“Fine.” I laugh, even though my chest is aching for her. “After we get out of here, we head straight to the store to pick up alcohol, pizza, chips, and ice cream. Because friends also don’t let friends become a drunk, blubbering mess in public.”
“Deal.” Lean grins and pushes up out of the chair and with a finger crinkle, exits.
Damn.
Men are such assholes.