Page 11 of Working for the Teacher

“Why were you always coming near my locker?” I ask, because I need to hear him say it.

He takes a step closer.

“You really don't know?”

I swallow hard and don't answer, because I don't trust my voice right now.

We stand there, closer than we should be, close enough that I have to tip my head back slightly to keep looking at him. My heart is doing something erratic and embarrassing.

“Tell me to back up, Charlotte.”

I stand there staring up at him, my heart beating so hard I’m sure he can hear it. His hand comes up slowly, giving me every opportunity to move away, and settles along my jaw. When his thumb brushes over my cheek, a shiver runs through me.

“Charlotte.”

The way he says my name makes my stomach tighten.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

His gaze drops to my mouth, and his lips barely graze mine. I lean forward without meaning to, chasing his lips, and a growl rumbles in his throat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this.”

My knees actually weaken. Before I can say anything, he catches my bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a soft tug. The sensation shoots through me, and then his mouth is gone again.

He trails his lips across the corner of my mouth and along my cheek, slow enough that I feel every warm brush of them against my skin.

I’m dizzy with it. My fingers curl into the front of his shirt. Then he kisses me, hard and hungry, and every thought in my head disappears.

His hand slides into my hair and closes around the back of my head, holding me exactly where he wants me as his mouth moves over mine.

I have no idea what to do with my hands. His shoulders. His chest. The back of his neck. I want to touch all of him at once.

His arm locks around my waist and suddenly there isn't an inch of space between us. I feel all of him against me, and the realization that Ryder Kane wants me this badly sends a rush of heat through my entire body.

A moan slips out of me. He stops.

His mouth stays against mine, his breathing rough as his fingers tighten in my hair.

“Do that again.”

My stomach flips. “What?”

“That sound.” His teeth catch my bottom lip again. “I want to hear it again.”

His mouth is on mine before I can answer, kissing me harder this time, and I give him exactly what he asked for. His answering growl vibrates against my lips.

“Fuck, Charlotte.”

Hearing my name in that rough, wrecked voice nearly finishes me.

I press closer, and he backs me against the counter, one hand braced beside me while the other stays buried in my hair. His mouth leaves mine just long enough for me to drag in a breath before he kisses the corner of my mouth, then my jaw.

“Still nervous around me?” he growls against my skin.

“Yes.”

“At least you're finally admitting it.”