Page 29 of The Forbidden Note

I’ve seen the way other teachers cower before him. I’ve heard the whispers in the lounge. They say that Jarod Cross brought this school back to life after the shameful scandal that nearly tore Redwood apart.

They say his sons, by extension, hold all the power in this new era.

I don’t care.

Zane crossed the line for the last time.

I lean in with fire in my voice. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

His lips curl up. Unruffled, as always. “What do you mean?”

A red haze settles on me. I want to punch him in the face so badly that my fingers twitch.

I shouldn’t let him get to me.

And I shouldn’t be holding him back after class when there are so many rumors about us.

But why the hell not?

I’ll never get anywhere if he keeps this up. The only way to reclaim my respect is to fight for it.

“You know what I mean. Your little speech in class!”

“I was defending my position.” He shoves both drumsticks in his back pocket. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“I told you to never mentionthat incident.”

“What incident?” He arches a brow, his smile getting wider and more wicked.

I glare at him, chest heaving. Refusing to say it.

“You mean our night together.” He circles me like a shark. “The night you let me touch you the way no student should touch a teacher?”

At the mere mention, the ache between my thighs burns with a desperate adrenaline.

“Do you think this is a joke?” I snap.

“You want me to cry then?”

“I want you to grow the hell up,” I growl. “You’re acting like a child.”

His expression shifts in an instant. From careless and cocky to a smoldering wolf. He prowls toward me, all six foot plus of him crowding my space.

My eyes dart fearfully to the hallway. The door is locked, but that doesn’t mean people aren’t listening.

I back up. “Zane.”

He stops an inch away, those painfully blue eyes boring into mine. “Miss Jamieson,” Zane reaches between us and touches one of my curls with his rough, giant hands, “we both know that I am not a child.”

My breathing is coming in harsh pants, and even though I despise my body for turning on me, I can’t deny the effect he has.

The tension between us thickens.

Dark.

Forbidden.

But unmistakable.

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