“No, he—” He cuts me off with a sharp glance. He pulls out his wallet, giving his credit card over. I try to peek, to see if I can catch his name, but he’s so tall and these heels are not made for peeking, so I fall into him instead. His strong hands latch onto my waist. My breath hitches at the contact. His hands are so warm and strong, so big. They fit around my waist perfectly. He peers down at me, the grumpy look of dispassion still plastered there. As if his face is set in stone. He steadies me, slowly moving me away a bit so I’m no longer in his embrace. Which feels like a crime, his arms are the only place I want to be in.
“Here is your card.” He nods to the bartender, slipping his card back in his wallet.
I watch in fascination, everything he does is so… hot. I shake my head.You’re drunk, Callum. Get it together.His hand spans the small of my back, gently pushing me forward. I look up to him, his ash eyes, which catch and hold mine. His touch burns into my skin, lighting the rest of me on fire. His eyes slowly look between the two of mine, studying me as if I’m a rare painting. Wanting to memorize every detail, because you know, this may be the only chance he gets to see it. I feel my eyelids grow heavy with alcohol-infused lust. It’s what I tell myself anyway. Because lusting after my teacher is wrong.
He finally looks away, snapping the connection I long to keep. His body is slightly hunched over mine as we walk through the crowd, him taking the brunt end of everyone bumping into us. While not even a single strand of my hair is touched. All I can focus on is him, this intoxicating pull he has over me, the way he looks in a suit, tie forgotten, top buttons undone, exposing the tan skin of his strong chest.The feel of his warm palm on me, guiding me. That’s all I can focus on, until I’m climbing into the front seat of his SUV. Only then do I realize what I’m doing.
“Hold on.” I pause, turning around to stare at him as he holds the car door open for me. His face is cast in shadow, only his prominent jaw visible. “You can’t just take me. I’m here with people.” It was a questionable attempt, I know that.
“So, text them and tell them you’re leaving. That you’re sick and got an Uber home. I don’t really care what you say, Miss Madison, but you’re not going back into that nightclub.” I huff, pulling out my cell phone and texting my friends, and my disappearing boyfriend. He does that a lot, so I’m not worried.
I sit in the passenger seat, body exhausted, mind a little cloudy. He shuts my door, walking around and climbing in. I watch his hands as he drives us, white-knuckled around the steering wheel. “You realize how dangerous that was tonight?” he asks.
I roll my eyes, looking out the window. “If I wanted a lecture, I’d call my father.”
“But you don’t have one, do you?” His voice is condescending.
My usually cool demeanor is nowhere to be found with the liquid courage running through my veins. I roll my head over to look at him, but his face is masked, only showing me glimpses of it when we go past a streetlight. “Fuck you.”
“Language.” His voice is sharp and dull, like an old knife. No room for argument.
I scoot down in the seat a little. Tired of the perfect posture I was taught, tired of sitting like a lady. So, I let my legs fall open, my skintight dress rising with the movement, but not too much, so you can’t see anything, yet it feels so nice to not have my legs crossed.
“Close your legs, Miss Madison,” he grits out.
I open the visor, ignoring him as I check myself. Everything is still perfect, except my eyes, they’re glassy. A hard slap stings the inside of my thigh, and my mouth falls open as I look at him, closing my legs. He shows zero remorse. No hint of an apology on his tongue. My eyes sting with embarrassment, anger, and pleasure…
The rest of the car ride is quiet, the air soaking in tension. A mixture of lust and anger. Until he asks for my address, which I give him. When we pull up to my large brick home, no lights are on, only my car is in the driveway. “Are you here alone?”
I shrug. “Looks that way. Mom’s probably on a date.”With my dad who wants nothing to do with me.
“And you’re home alone a lot?” he asks, his eyes burning into my cheek, but I ignore him.
“That’s none of your business. Thanks for ruining my night. I hope you get ink poisoning from your stupid red pen.” I swing the door open and climb out. Kicking my heels off, I bend over to grab them, almost sure I hear a low cuss, but positive it’s my imagination. I slam his car door shut and walk less-than-gracefully up to my door. Fumbling for my keys, I finally get them, opening the door. Once inside I lean against the front door, sliding down to my ass.
Mr. Boyd is a huge, handsome jerk who just ruined my night. So why did him waiting until I got inside to leave make my heart flutter?
* * *
I makemy way down the stairs, the smell of breakfast pulling me out of bed, even though my head is pounding. Never again will I drink again. And who knew Bethany was such a party animal?
I’m barely paying attention as I sit down at the table. It’s long and so massive for only two people, but Mom had it specially made, and she loves it so I never say anything about how ridiculous it is. I smell Mom before I feel her lips on my temple. The Channel giving her away. “Morning, sweetie.”
“Morning, Mom,” I reply, rubbing my temples.
“Callum.”
I jump at my name, eyes swinging across the table to Richard.Why is he here so much lately?
“Richard.” My eyes follow Mom as she walks out of the dining room into the kitchen. Making sure she’s out of earshot before I say, “Why have you been here so much lately?”
His strong black eyebrows rise. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, I’m… No, I’m not sorry. Why are you here? Don’t you have children at home you need to pay attention to, or do you ignore them and pretend they don’t exist as well?”
I hear Mom gasp.Shit.“Callum, that is no way to speak—”
I push back from the table. “You know what, I’m not hungry. Enjoy your breakfast together. Like you two always do.”