Page 43 of Tempting Teacher

“I love you, Alexander.” She shrugs, her cheeks lifting higher. “Sorry, not sorry.”

Our bodies melt together as we claim each other with a heated kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, my arms locking her to me. I groan, regret invading every pore at the realization I can’t sate the need throbbing below my waist. To truly claim her, to scream out loud that she’s mine, and mine alone.

I tear myself off her after a moment, panting, sporting a smile bright enough to light up the night. “Come on.” I yank her to my side, sliding an arm around her waist. “Let’s go get drunk.”

Fifteen minutes later, we slush through the dry sand, and weave through the outside table at Ballard’s to the hostess stand. Steve, the owner, notices me, and strolls over, offering a wave. “Alex!” He shakes my hand, clapping my shoulder with the other. “Are you here with the family for the weekend?”

“My girlfriend.” I state, saying the words out loud a shock to my ears, nodding towards her. “This is Summer.”

“Beautiful name for my favorite season.” He offers her his hand, which she takes. “Wonderful to meet you, Summer. I’m Steve.”

He focuses his attention back to me. “You want a table for dinner?” He snags two menus from the stand next to him, and I nod. “Inside or out?”

I arch a brow at Summer to gage her preference. “Definitely outside.” She replies. “It’s too nice a night not to enjoy it.”

“It’s the full moon.” We follow as Steve starts leading us to an available table. “We’re having a bonfire tonight as well, starting at eight-thirty, if you want to join us later.”

“Thanks.” I help Summer into her chair, then sit beside her, both of us facing the ocean. “We just might take you up on that.”

“I’ll send Jenny right over to take your drink orders.” He winks, dropping a quick pat on my shoulder as he departs. “Enjoy.”

We order margaritas and a bowl of steamed clams to start, our fingers locked together between us on the table.

“I don’t want to ruin this perfect night, but what are we going to do when we go home tomorrow?” She probes, concern in her voice.

“Let’s worry about that tomorrow.” I suggest. “We’ll figure out how to make this work.” I lie through my teeth, because I know, even though I don’t want to admit it, the real world is a bitch.

Chapter Twenty-Three

~Summer~

“Stop being so loud.” I demand, shoving my head under the covers. How many damn margaritas did I have last night, because it feels like a sledge hammer is pounding my skull from the inside out.

“It’s after eleven, Princess.” Alexander’s deep voice advises from above, his hands falling on each side of me, the heat from his body covering me. “And all I did was say good morning.” His chest vibrates against my back when he chuckles.

“How are you so chipper?” I grumble, wondering what I’m being punished for. No one deserves to feel this bad in the morning, no matter how many shots of tequila they may or may not have done.

“I’ve already gone for a run, and swam fifty laps.” He plants a kiss against the back of my hair. “Exercise is the best cure for any hangover.”

“I hate you.” I roll onto my side, curling myself into a tight ball, his body aligning to wrap around me.

“No you don’t.” He reminds me. “You love me.” His arms clench tighter. “At least, that’s what you kept yelling out on more than one occasion last night.” His chest vibrates again.

I toss the blanket off my head, twisting to look at him. “We had sex last night?”

“Several times.” His brow furrows. “You don’t remember?” He frowns. “On the beach, and then in the shower because we were both covered in sand.”

“Oh my God.” I slap a hand over my face, which I’m sure is red with mortification. “Please tell me I didn’t make a complete fool of myself.”

“You were amazing.” He assures me. “But now I feel like a complete ass for not realizing just how drunk you were. I wouldn’t have taken advantage of you.”

“Oh, something tells me I probably wasn’t complaining.” I mutter, sliding my fingers away to bury my head in my pillow. “I’m so sorry.” It comes out all muffled, but I’m too humiliated to lift my head and repeat myself.

“No, I’m sorry.” He insists, his tone firm. “It’s my job to protect and take care of you. I should have known you were too drunk.”

I roll over, wiggling my body until I can meet him in the eye. “You were drunk too. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m almost ten years older than you. I should fucking know better.” He continues to argue his point, but I press a finger to his lips.

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