I swallow the thick, cottony wad in my throat, nodding frantically now. Reaching up to loosen the tie, I tug it from my neck, trying to find the oxygen to fill my lungs. The tension in this room is constricting.
This is inappropriate. I need to get my shit together.
“Areyouokay?”
I peek up at her, nodding again before walking around the desk. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. See you on Friday, Ms. Dunaway.”
It comes out more dismissive than I intend, and I immediately regret it as I watch the chagrin flood her features.She hums in agreement, fidgeting with the hems of her sleeves as she quickly turns to walk toward the classroom door.
It’s impractical.
There’s no way she’s disappointed to leave because of the reason I hope. The chance that she feels the same insufferable attraction as me is low, nearly impossible. Right?
It’s in my head. All in my head.
There’s only one way to find out, and instead of allowing her to leave like I should, I hurry after her. My hand smacks against the door as she opens it, slamming it shut and sighing hungrily as a squeak escapes her lips in response.
My common sense is nowhere to be found. All sanity is gone, throwing caution to the wind, disappearing into the thick of the tension that encloses us.
My subconscious screams at me as I press against her back, pinning her to the door, my hands resting on either side of her head. The voice in my head begs me to stop. To let her leave. To think about what I’m doing. Someone could walk in—see us or hear us. The heat spreads rapidly through every surface of my skin, and the butterflies flutter against every part that touches her. The hair on my neck pricks as goosebumps trail down my spine.
This is wrong.
Don’t do this, Luca.
But as the faintest, sweetest moan leaves her full lips, her body shuddering from head to toe, I know I am truly andwhollyfucked.
Chapter Twelve
FINLEY
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 11TH, 2023
My body stiffens, and a heady sigh leaves my mouth, a mixture between a moan and a coo, as I bite down on my bottom lip. There was no time to think about what I was doing before the sound fumbles from my lips. It’s instinctual, a knee-jerk reaction to the feeling of Luca’s torso pressing against my back. He feels firm, his chest a lot harder than I’d imagined as he pins me against the door, his body radiating so much heat, my forehead pricks with sweat.
Waves of goosebumps wash through me as I struggle to compose my ragged breathing and the pace at which my shoulders rise and fall while my heart hammers inside my chest. It’s all I can hear echoing in my ears as I count the slow seconds that tick by, followed by deafening silence.
And then, his voice resonates next to my ear, deep and raspy all at once, the most tantalizing thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
“Finley.”
It’s like he’s whispering a prayer, confessing his sins, begging for redemption, all in one word—my name. I can hear the five stages of grief flutter through his tone as he pleads with me through a pant.
I swallow the cottony wad of saliva in my throat, unable to speak—unable to form a coherent sentence. The only thing I can focus on is his touch, the way his hips jerk ever so lightly as he speaks. He’s restrained in every sense of the word.
I should restrain myself too.
He’s dangerous. He slings guns in dark alleys and has a past I’m not sure I even want to know about.
“I’m not like him,Princesa,” he breathes, his voice taut. “I won’t force myself on you. I won’t touch you without your permission.”
I can feel his unsteady breaths across the back of my neck as he speaks, sending shockwaves down my spine. The jolt makes me tremble slightly as I slowly arch into him, rolling my hips back as I press myself against the hardness that strains inside his slacks. It’s the most nerve-racking thing I’ve ever done, the riskiest—granting him the permission he seeks.
I feel as though I’ve just jumped off a cliff I can’t see the bottom of as the adrenaline courses through my veins, warm and electric.
In this moment, I don’t give a fuck about danger.
Luca hisses as I buck against him, a quick, staccato sound that turns into a low rumble through his chest. A quiet gasp leaves my lips as one of his hands whisks from the door to grip my hip, his fingers digging into me through my skirt, holding me still.