I slow my steps and let my eyes do what they want.They wander freely.Those long, fucking legs built to wrap around me if she ever stopped pretending she didn’t want to.I imagine it without asking.Her ankles crossed behind my back.My hands sliding over the skin she keeps hidden.
She pauses, thumb flicking over her phone screen to check something.It gives me the chance to close the gap.
There’s no one else down here yet.Just the hum of the lights and the quiet she always seeks.
I move up slowly, hands shoved deep in my pockets so I don’t give in to the urge to touch her—to grab her waist and see how real this pull is up close.
I stop right behind her.Close enough, but not touching.
“Morning, Saint,” I murmur in her ear.
She stiffens immediately.
But her breathing shifts.I notice it in how her back rises and falls, sharper now, less controlled.
She turns slowly, as if she’s forcing herself to do it, like she thinks it’s a bad idea and can’t help herself anyway.
Her eyes flash.“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”I lean in just enough to feel her heat, my gaze dropping to her mouth because I can’t help myself.Because I want it turned on by me instead of against me.“It suits you.”
I move closer to her, allowing her to sense it before she realizes she’s running out of space.
She unintentionally backs up.
One step.
Then another.
Her shoulder hits metal.
Her books slip from her hands and scatter across the floor, pages splaying open as if they’re as shocked as she is.She gasps sharply, and I move with her, shifting just enough so my palm rests against the locker beside her head.
She’s pinned now, caged in by steel and my body, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off her.See the pulse throbbing in her neck.
“Move,” she hisses.
I don’t.
One step closer, and I’d be pressed against her.She’s aware of it too.I see it in her eyes, that storm brewing behind her perfect lashes.
“You know, if you weren’t such a fucking saint,” I murmur.“I’d have my fingers down your panties right now.Pressed up against your locker while I made you come so hard you’d forget what subject you had next.”
Her breath falters.It hits my chest.Her pupils dilate wide.Her lips part, caught off guard.And fuck.My cock presses against the front of my jeans as if it’s desperate to get closer to her.
I’m hard and drowning in her.The flushed anger on her cheeks, the wild heat in her eyes.She looks like she wants to slap me and kiss me at the same time.And I’d let her.I’d take both.
“You’re disgusting,” she spits, but her voice trembles at the edges, and it comes out more breath than bite.
I lean in, letting my nose brush against her cheek, just enough to see her shiver.My breath ghosts soft over her skin, and she jerks beneath it, her chest rising fast.I don’t even need to glance down to know her nipples are hard beneath that shirt.She’s fighting it.Resisting me.But her body’s already made its choice.
God, she’s stunning.The kind that burns you when you get too close.The kind that fucks with your head and ruins every girl who came before.
“You hate me,” I murmur.“But your body doesn’t.”
Her chest rises again, sharp and shallow.One step closer and I’d feel the press of her tits against me.One more filthy word and I bet she’d either melt against my mouth or slap me again.And fuck, I want her mad.I want her feral.I want her so far gone she forgets why she ever wanted to hate me.
She moves before I can react, and her hand snaps up.
