His mouth slants over mine with an intensity that steals my breath, demanding in a way that lights up every nerve ending I have. I may have started this but he’s completely taken over, one hand fisted in my hair to angle my head exactly how he wants it, the other splayed across my lower back pressing me so close there’s no space left between us. The solid weight of him pins me to the door and I am not complaining.
I grip his shirt with both hands, and when I pull him closer he makes this low sound in his chest that vibrates through my whole body, and everything inside me tightens in response. His thumb strokes along my jaw while his other hand slides lower, possessive and sure, and I can barely keep up with the sensations flooding through me.
He kisses like he’s been holding himself back for weeks and finally snapped. Like every polite conversation in the school parking lot was just him restraining this exact moment. His teeth catch my bottom lip and I make a sound that should probably embarrass me but I can’t bring myself to care because his hand has tightened in my hair and the pressure sends sparks down my spine.
My pulse is pounding everywhere, and I’m completely along for whatever this is, hoping desperately that he doesn’t stop.
Then he does.
He pulls back abruptly, taking a full step away. His breathing is harsh, uneven, his hands flexing at his sides like he’s forcing them to stay there. The sudden absence of him leaves me dizzy, cold air rushing into the space where his body was.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and the words come out strained. “I shouldn’t have?—“
“What are you sorry for?” I’m still pressed against my door, pulse racing. “I’ve been wanting you to do that since about five minutes after I walked out of the post office that day.”
“Emma.” He rubs a hand down his face, and I watch him physically rebuild whatever control just shattered. “This is too complicated. I shouldn’t have let that happen, and it was wrong of me.”
“It’s not wrong when I want it. And you didn’t let anything happen.Ikissed you first.”
“It doesn’t matter who started it.” He takes another step back, putting more distance between us like he doesn’t trust himself. “We can’t do this. You’re Chloe’s teacher. I’m ten years older than you. I’m your landlord. It’s...”
“Complicated?” I finish for him.
He lets out a sharp breath. “Yes.”
“You keep saying that word.”
“Because it’strue.” His jaw clenches, conflict written across every line of his face. He looks toward the parking lot, toward his car, anywhere but at me. “I need to go.”
And just like that, he’s taking the stairs two at a time, his footsteps heavy on the wood. The car door slams. The engine starts. Headlights sweep across the landing where I’m still standing frozen. Then he’s pulling away, taillights disappearing around the corner, and I’m alone with the October cold and the ghost of his mouth on mine.
I stay there another moment, body still thrumming, trying to process what just happened.
That wasn’t some sweet first kiss. That was the kind of kiss that ruins you for anything less, that makes every previous kiss feel like a disappointing preview. The kind where a man kisses you like he’s been thinking about it obsessively and finally gave in.
And that definitely wasn’t “not interested.” He wants it. He just won’t let himself have it.
I unlock my door with slightly shaking hands, step inside, close it behind me and lean against it in the dark, touching my fingers to my mouth where I can still feel the pressure of his lips.
CHAPTER 9
Theo
I’ve been staring at my ceiling for three hours. The sheets are twisted around my legs from rolling over too many times. My body won’t settle. I can’t remember how to relax, and every time I close my eyes I’m back on that landing outside Emma’s apartment.
I can’t stop thinking about her mouth under mine, the way she felt pressed against that door, soft everywhere I touched her. The way she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer instead of pushing me away. The little whimper she made when my teeth caught her bottom lip, like she wanted more, like she’d let me do anything I wanted to her.
I came home right after the kiss and immediately got in the shower and wrapped my hand around my cock, still hard from her touch. I stroked myself slow at first, then faster, rougher, imagining it was her hand instead of mine. Imagining her on her knees in front of me, those green eyes looking up while she took me in her mouth. I thought about bending her over the kitchen counter and fucking her until she screamed my name.Thought about burying my face between her thighs and making her come on my tongue before I even got inside her, tasting her until she begged me to stop.
I came so hard my vision went white, her name on my lips, my free hand braced against the tile to keep myself upright. Then I felt like shit about it.
I still do.
There are legitimate reasons I’ve been keeping my distance. She rents from me. The age gap isn’t nothing. Power dynamics exist whether I want to acknowledge them or not. I’ve been attracted to her for weeks, but I figured it was one-sided, something I could manage on my own. I could keep things professional. I wouldn’t act on it. I’d jerk off in the shower like some desperate teenager and get it out of my system, and that would be enough.
Tonight she made it crystal clear the attraction goes both ways. Which makes everything harder. Now I know what she tastes like. I know how she feels pressed against me, how perfectly she fits in my arms. I know she wants this too, and I know I could have her if I let myself. But I’m the one who needs to be the responsible adult even when every cell in my body is screaming at me to drive back to her place, knock on her door, and finish what we started.
She’s twenty-four. She deserves someone without all my complications, someone who isn’t her landlord and her student’s father and a decade older with enough baggage to fill a cargo plane.
