Do not leave me.
I came to with a jerk having dozed off. It was the first time I’d had that dream during the day. Baffled, I stepped out of the jacuzzi and reached for a towel. Only, the rail was empty. I shifted my gaze to the rack where extras were usually kept.
“Seriously?” Now what. I could make a run for it. I glanced at the clock above the door, at least thirty minutes before dad got home. Davien’s father was back which meant I wouldn’t see him for another day and Eliana was at a piano lesson. Annoyed, I left the room making a mental note to remind the housekeeper to always make sure there were towels in here.
Scared of slipping on the tiles, I walked slowly then checked my phone. There was a missed call from dad and one from Davien. Frowning, I rounded the kitchen.
“When Dean said make myself comfortable, I didn’t think he meant the get down and dirty kind,” a deep voice snapped my gaze up from the phone.
“What the—” the squeal of surprise got stuck in my throat as my eyes locked with Mr Sinclair’s.
He stood, with his hands in his gray slack’s pockets, between me and the stairs to the bedrooms. What was he doing here? How did he know where I stayed? It took a second for me to realize the man was unashamedly checking out my body. I let out another squeal of alarm, banded an arm around my breasts and held the phone over my mound.
“Is your pussy calling for help, Levana?” His lips kicked up in a slow smirk but something else danced in those green eyes—a distinct raw desire and my body responded to his dark scrutiny. Heat I’d experienced only once, with Saint, flushed my skin and had my pussy muscles clenching.
I shuddered hard, losing my grip on the phone, it fell to the floor and slid away. Thankful for the protective housing, I dropped to my knees and grabbed the only other thing in sight. A small rug. This was one time I hated dad’s need for neatness. Nothing laid around unnecessarily. Well, he wasn’t expecting my teacher to drop in, was he? I rolled my eyes at my stupid internal argument.
“D—do you mind turning around.” Straightening, I aimed for a sterner reprimand instead the words sounded more like a squeak to my ears.
“So, you’re Dean’s daughter. Interesting.” He totally ignored my request.
“You’re dad’s visitor? I clutched the rug tighter to my body, the stiff fibres on the underneath prickling my skin. He nodded. “Who let you in?”
“Your neighbour, I believe.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Your father did try calling to say I was outside.”
Shit. The missed calls. “You know this is like inappropriate, right? You’re my teacher.”
His lips twitched. “Am I stopping you from going to you room, Levana?” God, why did my name sound like melted chocolate on his tongue. Hugging the rug to my body, I sidled around him. “By the way, I believe we’re even now, right?
I made it to the stairs and paused to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“You walked in on me in a compromising position and now, so did I.” He winked and I found that little gesture unnerving but not in a wrong way, more like a ‘made me feel special’ kind of way.
Not bothering to reply, I climbed the stairs, conscious of his gaze on me.
So, the sexy Mr Sinclair was dad’s friend.
God help me.
