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.”

And before I could open my eyes, he’d captured my bottom lip between his teeth and then kissed me, sending me reeling until I didn’t know which way was up.

I couldn’t fight it. His tongue dove into my mouth as he pressed me against the whiteboard and kissed me hard. I circled my arms around his neck, knowing I was getting myself into a shit ton of trouble, but I didn’t care at the moment.

My body needed him. That’s all it was.

I wouldn’t get involved emotionally – I never did.

He grabbed me underneath both thighs and swung me around, planting my ass on the desk.

I groaned, his mouth working strong and fast over mine, stealing my breath as pleasure swarmed in my chest. It spiraled downward like a cyclone low in my belly.

I tightened my legs around his waist as his fingers slid under my dress, raking down my thighs.

I grabbed the back of his neck, cocking my head and returning every inch of his kiss. He tasted like coffee with vanilla, and I felt a hint of stubble on his face under my fingertips.

Dropping my hands down his body, I started unbuttoning his black vest. It was too thick, and I couldn’t feel him.

I pulled my mouth back, then dove back in to flick his tongue with mine.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, eating me up with quick kisses and nibbles. “Why does it have to be you, huh?”