“Mr. Marek,” I said, looking up at him leaning against the wall next to my classroom door.
What is he doing here?
My chest rose and fell from the exertion, and he tipped his chin down, cocking an eyebrow at me.
I shot up, smoothing my dress down and glancing over at Kristen. I only caught her smirk before she disappeared, pushing her chair into her classroom down the hall.
I turned back to Marek. “Excuse me,” I said, feeling heat spread over my cheeks. “We were just…”
I trailed off, leaving it there. He knew what we were doing.
His three-piece black pin-striped suit looked crisp and dark against his fair skin, and his white shirt and slate-gray tie shimmered in the glow of the light overhead.
I took a few steps forward. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
His eyes shot down to my feet, and I followed his gaze, remembering that I’d forgotten to put my heels back on.
“Always losing your shoes,” he commented, a smile curling his mouth.
I pursed my lips and turned around, snatching my heels off the seat and slipping them back onto my feet. Grabbing the back of the chair, I pulled it behind me and entered my classroom, knowing he’d follow.
“You came to my workplace unannounced,” he stated behind me. “I thought I would return the favor.”
I replaced my chair behind my desk and looked up, seeing that he had closed the door behind him.
“And?” I prompted.
“And I came to apologize,” he admitted, stopping a few feet in front of my desk. “I’ve been unfair, and I’m sorry. Christian has his phone back, so we’ll see how this goes.”
I stilled, my heart galloping in my chest, and I almost smiled.
Really?
I opened my mouth but had to swallow the lump before I could speak. “Well, that’s great,” I said, surprised. “Thank you.”
I guess I got through to him at his office.
He slid one of his hands into a pocket and narrowed his eyes on me, looking a little surprised.
“You seem very knowledgeable and determined.” His voice sounded genuine. “You’re an impressive woman, Ms. Bradbury, and I should’ve taken the time to understand your methods.”
I kept my shoulders squared, but my eyes dropped, embarrassment warming my cheeks.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, turning around to grab a dry-erase marker to start writing the schedule on the board for when the kids came back on Thursday.
“Christian talks about your class,” he said behind me. “I can tell your teaching interests him, even if he would never admit it.”
I uncapped the marker and rested my hand on the board but didn’t write anything.
“He really can’t stand me, can he?”
I dropped my hand to my side and spun around slowly, surprised by his question.
And feeling terrible all over again. I should never have said that.
No matter how much I thought I knew about him, they were nothing more than assumptions. Who was I to insinuate his son didn’t care for him or vice versa? And what gave me the right to say anything at all in the first place?
He breathed deeply, and for the first time since I’d met him, he looked unsure of himself.
“I was twenty when he was born,” he told me. “That’s no excuse, but it’s the only one I have.”
Twenty.
I was twenty-three, and I couldn’t imagine having a child right now.
I watched him and waited, not wanting to say anything or interrupt because I found I kind of liked it when he talked.
“I know what you think of me.” He looked me dead in the eye and then dropped his gaze, speaking in a voice close to a whisper. “And what he thinks of me.”
And then he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I even care what you think. You don’t give a shit about me, but I guess that’s what’s so intriguing.” He moved forward, his soft eyes turning to steel. “You’re so cold and distant,” he charged. “I guess I wouldn’t think anything of it if I hadn’t seen you so different at one time.”
I inhaled a shaky breath, looking down at his right hand. The same one that had held my waist while we danced.
I licked my lips, barely noticing him advance.
“You were flirty and fun.” His voice turned husky, and I looked up, seeing him round my desk slowly. “And you keep pissing me off, but it feels good,” he whispered, playing with me, drawing me in.
I knew that look in his eyes. I may not know much about him, but I knew that look.
And we were in my classroom.
His son’s classroom.
I may have had little shame, but he had none.
“Mr. —”
He cut me off. “Why won’t you ever say my name?”
I shook my head, confused. “Why do you care what I think?”
“I don’t,” he maintained. “I care that you don’t think of me at all.”
I narrowed my eyes on him, clenching my teeth. “That’s not…” I trailed off, plastering my back against the whiteboard as he hovered over me.
“That’s not what?” he pressed, his voice sounding strained.
He stood so close that I had only to lift a hand and I could touch him.
“That’s not true,” I finished.
He leaned in. “You look at me like I don’t matter.” His eyes searched mine. “And I don’t like it.”
“I…” I shifted my eyes, avoiding his gaze. “I…”
Did I look at him like that?
“The masquerade, Shaw’s office, my office…” he went on. “You’ve completely held my attention in any room we’ve been in together,” he admitted. “Whereas you make me feel like I’m not worth your time. How do you do that?”
My body vibrated with his heat, and it was like being with him at that ball all over again. My eyelids fluttered, and I couldn’t look at him.
“I…” Fuck, why can’t I speak?
I cleared my throat, forcing my eyes up to his. “I don’t mean to be cold.” I spoke softly. “You are worth my time.” And then I added, “Like all of my students’ parents.”
He dropped his eyes, speaking softly as well. “It’s not often I let people speak to me the way I let you,” he confessed. “Nor should I enjoy it as much as I do.”
My heart hammered in my chest, and I wanted to tell him all of that was true for me as well. He dominated my attention when he was around, and I felt like he didn’t see me or think anything of me.
And even though he pissed me off and riled my temper, I kind of enjoyed it.
In fact, I wanted to run toward it.
“Why you?” he questioned. “Why have I been thinking of you ever since that Mardi Gras ball?”
He pressed his body to mine, and I shook my head slowly.
“Mr. Marek,” I pleaded, but it was useless. My eyes fell to his mouth, and then I glanced to my closed door, knowing that even though the students were gone for the day, there might still be staff around. “Please.”
“There was something that drew us together that night,” he maintained. “Something that got under my skin, something that’s still there.”
His mouth was an inch from mine, and I breathed hard, needing to push him away, but at the same time, that was the last thing I wanted.
“Easton,” he whispered, and reached down behind my thigh, lifting it to press himself closer against me.
I groaned, feeling the ridge of his cock nestle between my legs.
“We can’t do this,” I told him.
My clothes felt like sandpaper on my skin, and I wanted them off. I wanted his shirt open and to know what he felt like under my fingertips.
“I know,” he answered.
But while his left hand held my knee up, his right hand slid between my legs and rubbed my clit through my panties.
I sucked in a sharp breath and clutched his shoulders, letting my eyes fall closed as my head floated away from me.
“Mr. Marek,” I begged.
But his breath fell against my mouth, and he whispered, “I told you there would be no stopping me when we finally ran into each other again.”