Chloe stands too, her robe fluttering, threatening to reveal more of her, but I keep my eyes on hers. I might not be a gentleman, but I can play one when warranted.
“Or maybe this conversation is exactly what you need,” she says softly, her gaze searching my face.
Something pulls me toward her because she’s right; Idoneed to talk. Maybe she’s not the best choice for me but she’s the only one here right now.
“Losing my daughter would kill me.”
My voice cracks as I throw the honest truth out there, then immediately, I wish I could yank it back. Chloe’s eyes soften with a sheen of tears, and she pulls me into a hug. I breathe in, devouring her sweet, youthful scent. I know I should pull away, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
“You’re a good dad, Sam. A good man,” she whispers, looking up at me from where she’s pressed to my chest. “Any woman would be lucky to have you.” She pauses, long enough to build the tension growing between us. “Iwould be lucky to have you.”
Her words destroy me.
Without breaking eye contact, she rises up on tiptoes and presses her soft, sweet lips to mine. Stunned, I stand there a moment and don’t react, until I do. Cupping her cheeks, I kiss her back, our tongues clashing together like waves crashing against the shore. I groan, because she tastes as fucking good as I imagined she would.
My hands slide over the satin robe, cradling her ass cheeks. Her hands graze over my cock, and I harden at her touch, my body coming alive. Her fingers fumble with the tie on her robe and I grunt, torn as it threatens to spill open. I so badly want her, to feel myself inside her tight little cunt, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
I’m not this man.
I don’t take advantage of people, especially not a helpless student who’s crying out for my help.
“I’m sorry,” I hiss, backing out of her arms. She stands there, watching me, a hurt expression on her face. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Without a second of hesitation, I turn and leave the room, aware I’ve fucked up and made a vulnerable situation worse.
One thing’s for sure—
I need to stay the fuck away from Chloe.
CHAPTER7
CHLOE
Iwatch Sam leave, his shoulders hunched in, like the bats of hell are chasing him, my lips still warm, tingling slightly from the kiss. It had been a good kiss, better than I had expected.
In fact, I'm surprised by how much it affected me, how good it felt. But, as much as I enjoyed it, that doesn't stop the wave of vitriol and hate that follows right after, as soon as the door clicks shut. My mouth twists as I lie back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Sam pretends to be this knight in shining armour, swooping in to save me, but we both know he’s no hero. He’s the villain in this story—which makes it so much easier to screw him over. If he was a good guy, I’d feel bad about what I’m doing, but he’s not.
He’s myteacher.
He shouldn’t have let himself get into this position with me.
People like Sam never change. He is a monster—one of the worst kinds.
Angry, I drag the back of my hand across my lips, as if I can wipe away his kiss. My stomach rolls again, this time with a mix of repulsion and frustration. I hate him so much and I’m angry at myself for the way I’m feeling. Aroused. Turned on. There should be no confusion inside me. No feelings of remorse, no regrets, and certainly no feelings oflust.
My focus should be on doing whatever I need to do to protect my myself and my brother. A little suffering will be more than worth it, once Jake and I are safe, and far away from this place, with no monsters lingering under the bed. If Sam gets hurt in the crossfires, then so be it. Just like I got hurt ten years ago becausehedidnothingto help me.
There's a quiet knock on the door, interrupting my thoughts. For a split second, I think Sam might have changed his mind and come back, but the butterflies dancing in my stomach fade when I look through the peephole and see Jake standing on the other side. I open the door quickly and usher him inside, looking back and forth down the hallway to make sure nobody is there.
“You weren't seen?” I demand, worried despite myself.
He rolls his eyes and strolls past me, flopping his lanky frame down on the chair in the corner of the room.
“Relax, no one saw me,” he assures me, sweeping his dark hair away from his face. He reaches over, picking up the little pamphlet on the bedside table. “Room service?”
I shrug. It’s not like I have to pay for any of this.