I pulled my mouth away and noticed that he was still hard and I was...unaffected. I couldn’t let him know that though.
“We have to stop,” I whispered. “I don’t want to get carried away.” Total lie.
“But—”
“But nothing. You heard what he said, he’s going to check on us and if he sees we have no work done—”
“I know. We’re screwed.”
“Exactly.”
I pushed away from him and was about to leave when I spotted our history teacher standing at the far end of the row. His legs were slightly spread, and his arms were crossed over his chest. His mouth was pulled tight, and his eyes kept moving back and forth between Brandon and me.
“Shit,” Brandon cussed. “We are in so much trouble.”
He had no idea.
“I thought I made myself clear earlier.” Mr. McKendrick’s voice traveled the distance separating us.
I could see Brandon stand up straight out of the corner of my eye as our teacher began walking down the row.
Caught. We couldn’t go anywhere, but what were we supposed to do now? What was I supposed to say, I’m sorry?
“Sorry, sir,” Brandon mumbled behind me.
Apparently, sorry was what was called for in this situation.
Instead of following Brandon’s lead, since he was losing major points for cowering, I placed my hands on my hips and did nothing to apologize.
“We were looking for a book.”
Directing his eyes to mine, Mr. McKendrick didn’t stop walking until he was right in front of us. “Really?”
“Yep,” Brandon agreed, finally managing to contribute.
Mr. McKendrick—that was who was in front of me right now—looked past my shoulder to the boy behind me.
“And did you find it? In Addison’s jeans?”
He raised an arm and pointed to the other end of the row, telling Brandon, “Go. Find a textbook, sit down on the opposite side of the library, and write your paper. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” Brandon grumbled, and I felt his arm brush against my ass as he walked away.
I listened for the noises surrounding me and waited for my own instructions. When all that met me was silence, I resorted to my other nervous habit and brought my thumbnail to my mouth. One, two, three.
The expression on his face conveyed irritation, and it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything, so I shrugged and started to walk by. When he grabbed my wrist, I looked down at it and then gazed back up to find Grayson.
Ahh, there he is.
“You do the same, and while you’re at it…” he advised, his voice dropping to a hushed pitch, “be very careful, Addison.”
“Of?” I dared.
His eyes moved to my mouth as he stepped closer. “Me.”
“Why?” I asked, as we stood there, arm-to-arm.
He looked from one end of the row to the other and then back to me. “I don’t want his tongue in your mouth.”
“Neither do I.”
“And yet that’s where he had it.”
I nodded as my body clenched in response to the index finger circling over my pulse.
“It’s a good cover, to hide the truth.” I peered up at him batting my lashes. “Don’t you think, sir?”
The fingers around my wrist tightened, and his voice lowered. “I won’t play games, Addison. If you want my fingers, tongue, or cock anywhere inside you, you’ll make it very clear to boy wonder that things are over. Got it?”
I swallowed once, feeling my embarrassment and indignation rise as I yanked my arm away.
“You’re jealous,” I spat out.
Grayson walked forward until I was backed up against the shelves of books. He was no longer touching me in any way, but the fulminating look on his face told me if he could—he would.
“So what do you want me to do? Break up with him?”
I glared up at the man who was affecting me in ways I’d never imagined, and remembered how it felt to be naked underneath him. I wanted him to touch me. I knew I could get him to. All I had to do was provoke the beast, the one I could see barely restrained in his eyes.
Grayson shoved his hands into his pockets before he replied, “I don’t care what you do, Addison.”
“I think you do.”
“Just remember this isn’t a game anymore. You wanted me, and you got me. But don’t fuck around with me.”
I knew my smile was bold, almost as bold as the way I slid my palms down my jeans to cup between my legs.
“Mmm, but I can’t wait to fuck with you.”
“Behave yourself.”
“I don’t want to.” I laughed softly as his eyes dropped to where I was rubbing. “You don’t want me to either.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. Anyone could see, so fucking behave yourself.”
I focused on his mouth and noticed his cheeks were a ruddy color under his stubble.
“What would you do right now…if no one could see? Tell me.”
“No.”
“Yes,” I challenged, and for a moment, I thought he was going to give in and touch. Instead, he checked out the aisle.
“I’d unzip your jeans, put you over my knee and redden that sweet ass of yours until you promised to behave.”
Turning on his heels, Grayson began walking away and then looked back to where I was standing by the shelves, flushed and aroused.
“Opposite side of the library. Find a textbook, and write your damn paper.”
I raised a brow and nodded, so turned on I felt the need to shove my hand down my jeans to finish what he’d started.
“Whatever you say, sir.”
His gaze lowered back down below my waist, and my body responded. “Don’t touch.”
I should have been annoyed by the order but I wasn’t. It just made me want him even more.
Chapter Sixteen
Past…
As the bell rang for lunch, I made my way through the bustling halls and down to the teacher’s lounge.
I was on a mission. I wanted some answers, and the one person who would have them would be in there.
Miss Shrieve, Helene—Addison’s coach.
It wasn’t hard to track her down. In fact, I usually avoided the lounge because she was in there, but today I needed something, and she could give it to me.
Jesus, when did I become such an asshole? Avoiding a woman until I decided to use her? It was so unlike me, but ever since laying eyes on Addison, nothing I’d done made any fucking sense.
I wiped my hands on my pants and took a step into the restricted area. All around me stood my fellow co-workers—some my age, some significantly older. As I walked into our designated “adult” space, I found myself forcing a smile.
This was ridiculous. I’d never lacked confidence or been one to feel uneasy, but now, due to my own reckless actions, I found myself faking it with everyone around me. Lying and hiding behind a careful facade and a nod of my head.
“Hey there, Grayson.”
Rodney Fowler. He was one of the English teachers here. He was about late thirties I’d guess and dressed more like he was in his late fifties. He held his hand out, so I took it in a firm handshake and greeted the man.
“Hey, Rodney. How’s it going?”
“Good, man. Haven’t seen you in here before. How’s your morning so far?”