Page 131 of Shadows in Bloom

Cruz smirks, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He has changed into black, shredded jeans and a white T-shirt that hangs loose on his frame, yet takes nothing away from his carved physique. If anything, it accentuates it, adding an air of revolt. Cruz is unrefined and feral.

My mouth goes dry. I’ve never been aware of a man before in this sense. When his smirk deepens along with the tense silence, I’m painfully aware of the muscles in his forearms. The veins that paint a roadmap beneath his olive skin. Even the smattering of dark hairs.

He shrugs, but there’s nothing casual about it. “If that’s what you want.”

His collar teases his pronounced collarbones. My eyes trail up, past his neck and sharp jawline. Why am I checking him out? I must have hit my head last night. “You’re young enough to be my son.”

“I’m not your son,” he says in a tone that drips with nefarious intent as he steps closer.

My heart jolts at that single step. There’s nowhere to go. The desk behind me digs into the backs of my thighs.

“You’re my best friend’s son.”

“You think I’ll let that stop me from going after what I want?”

“I helped raise you.”

“I’m all grown up now.”

One more step.

Cedarwood and vanilla surround me, rich and heady. “I could lose my job.”

“No one will find out.”

He’s not much shorter than me, matching me for height. His youth, on the other hand… He’s yet to be jaded by life and there’s a cockiness about him that renders me speechless.

“I’m not gay,” I croak as he invades my space, standing toe-to-toe with me.

“So, if I touched you now…” He lets the unspoken words hover, his tongue darting out to drag over his bottom lip.

My heart threatens to beat out of my chest as he drops his eyes to my mouth. He knows exactly how to pull me under, and a featherlight touch to the side of my dick makes me choke on my breath.

“If I inch my fingers to the left?” he whispers, brushing up against me again, way too close for comfort. “Will I find your dick hard?” His teeth sink into his lip and he flicks his hair out of his eyes, locking his devious browns on mine. This is it. He’s about to palm my cock and squeeze until my knees give out.

My dick twitches as I imagine kneeling before him while he grips my chin. I push him away and stumble to the side. “This isn’t happening. I refuse to go there with you, Cruz. You need to find someone your own age, understood?”

When he fails to reply, tracking my jerky movements and visible distress, I lose my cool and shout, “UNDERSTOOD?”

His voice is unaffected and calm. “I understand you perfectly well, Professor Kirk.”

Loosening my tie, I snatch my bag off the desk. Then, before he can lure me back to entangle myself in his web, I flee the room like my ass is on fire.

I can’t escape those dark eyes or his cedarwood and vanilla scent fast enough.

I need fresh air, but it’s the height of summer and muggy outside. There isn’t even a cool breeze to clear my brain. Only warm, sticky heat.

Sensing eyes on me, I turn around outside the front doors to see Cruz leaning against the wall, watching me. Always fucking tracking me with his intense gaze.

A leggy woman drapes herself against his side and bats her wispy lashes, no doubt reeking of cheap perfume.

A taste of something foul lingers on my tongue.

I’m slowly descending into hell.

“Marshall?”

I break eye contact to find Monica, one of my colleagues, smiling at me. She shakes out her umbrella. “Are you coming for drinks after work tomorrow?”

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