Page 27 of Avoiding Temptation
“You need to leave.”
“I...uh...what?”
“You need to leave. Right now.”
“But—”
“No buts, Joe. This can’t happen. This shouldn’t have happened. I’m your…” I can’t bear to say the word. “I’m yourteacher.” I’ve no idea why I whisper it; it’s not like anyone’s going to overhear.
“Too late now, babe. It’s happened, and I’m more than ready for it to happen again.”
He glances down, and when I follow his gaze I find his cock, hard again.
Jesus.
“I can’t do this, Joe. I can’t lose the only thing I have left in my life. I can’t and I won’t because of some stupid mistake.”
“Mistake?” he asks, getting up from the sofa, his eyes hardening at my choice of word.
“It shouldn’t have happened.”
“But it did, and don’t tell me you didn’t feel it.”
“Feel what?” I feign innocence.
“The connection. Us. The chemistry.”
Oh, I felt it all right. I have since that first day he walked into my classroom. I should have been stronger, should have been able to ignore it. But I couldn’t, and now look at me—standing with his disgusting trousers wrapped around my body which smells like him and sex.
Touching him was forbidden. I knew that. But I did it anyway. As if my life isn’t already one big clusterfuck—I’ve just added another load of drama to it.
“Quinn, please. Just come back to bed.”
“It’s not a bed, Joe. It’s a sofa, and the fact that I don’t even have a bed should prove just how fucked up my life is. Trust me when I say that this is the last place you should want to be.”
Standing, he takes a few steps towards me, but I take the same back.
“Talk to me. Tell me. Let me help you, whatever it is. You don’t need to fight it alone.”
“No. I can’t.”
“I’m right here, Quinn. Tell me what you need.”
Emotion threatens to climb up my throat, but I swallow it down. I need to be strong if I’m going to convince him that I’m doing the right thing. “I need you to leave. This can’t happen again.”
“This is bullshit, Quinn, and you know it.” His arms fly up in disbelief, and I cower away. “What the fuck? Quinn, I wouldn’t...I’d never...Fuck.” His eyes widen in shock, his fingers threading in his hair and tugging painfully hard.
“Just get out, please. I need to be alone.”
His eyes are wide and focused on me as he debates what to do.
“Please, Joe.”
With a regretful nod of his head, he tugs his boxers on before turning to me and holding out his hand. I stupidly think he’s asking for me, and I almost cave. My arm twitches to reach out and wrap my fingers around his, but after a second I realise that he just wants his trousers.
I pull the fabric from around me and hand it over. Broken and defeated, I allow my arms to drop to my sides. I’m sending away the one good thing in my life; what more do I really have to worry about?
Once he’s dressed in what’s available, seeing as his sopping wet t-shirt is still in the sink, he steps up to me. His fingers slide into my hair and his lips press against my forehead.
