Page 10 of Teaching Ms. Tingle

Flushing hot once again, I let out a little sigh. Part of me is fist pumping because I want to be closer to him. Who cares about being reckless or dangerous? Not this daring broad, it would seem.

Pushing to my feet, I round the table, biting back a smile as he pulls a chair out for me. Just as I settle into it, he yanks it closer to him, as close as he can get it. Unable to help it, I laugh, turning to watch him grin gleefully.

“Now I can focus. Mmm, you smell so good,” he murmurs as he buries his face in my throat. One thick arm drapes across the back of my shoulder, the other moving across our bodies. It drops to my thigh, touching me just the way I imagined the other night.

“Kane. How will you focus with your hand beneath my skirt?”

“I am a savage multitasker, baby. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?”

Laughing again, I push at him until he relents. I am a mixture of relief and regret once he takes his hand away. To my surprise, he reaches past me again, grabbing our things to drag them closer. He winks down at me, opening the binders I made for these sessions.

“I am going to ace English for you, kitten.”

Two hours later, I know he means his words. After going over the required reading, he leaves the table twice to gather the books. Bent over the syllabus, he begins outlines for the assignments. I grin when his hand falls to my thigh once again. This time, I don’t even bother telling him to behave. I figure he is being good enough.

“Why did you become a teacher?” He wonders as he works, his fingertips skimming softly over my bare skin.

It hits me that he is the first person to ever ask me why. Both my parents were success realtors, having met at an open house. They thought me becoming a teacher was a little hippy-dippy of me, but they supported me regardless.

“No one ever bothered to ask me,” I admit as I watch his hand scribble across his notebook. “I was obviously very into English. Reading and writing were always my jam. Before junior high I got very sick. I rarely left the house. Any friends I had, any things I was into before, it all went away. Books, they were there. I said it is about the journey, and I got to go on a dozen of them while I was sick.”

Kane turns towards me, pulling my chair round so we face one another. Pulling at the chair once more, he drags it until he tucks my knees between his thighs. I do not even think about pulling back or stopping him.

“Sick? How were you sick, Kinsley?” He wonders with a tremor in his voice. I bow my head, but his hand is there, grasping my chin to tip it back up. His light eyes hold mine. For a moment, I am not a tutor or professor. He is not a student. I am just a woman, and he is just a man.

“I had a hole in my heart. They thought it would heal itself. Guess I came a bit earlier than mom planned. It never healed so I had a few surgeries. It made for a miserable few years, not going to lie.”

“You healthy now, kitten? Going to give me a hard time about taking care of you?”

His voice is so gentle, eyes so earnest, his touch gentle, it brings tears to my eyes. My parents were great while I was sick of course. It was still very isolating. Spending days, sometimes weeks, in a hospital. Enduring tests, surgeries, and medications. And the crushing fear of dying young.

“No. I mean, yes I am healthy. It took a few surgeries and a lot of patience. I meant, no, I won’t give you a hard time.”

Kane’s smile is a megawatt beauty. My answer pleases him. No push back or moral pandering. The air between us stirs with something. With the start of something—the thing I swore we could not dare start.

“Kinsley,” his tone is raw, his eyes hot as they focus on my mouth. “I guess I need a tutor after all. Need to learn about this little heart of yours,” he teases, fingers tapping my chest where my heart thumps. “Whatever it takes to keep it ticking for me.”

Emotions I have tried for days, for weeks, hell maybe for months, bubble to the surface. From the moment I first saw him, I was in awe. I thought it was a silly little crush on someone I would never have to face. Now I am starting to think it was much more.

Tilting my head slightly, I let it fall on his chest. He lets out a ragged sigh, his thick arms winding around me. I almost laugh when he pulls me out of my seat to settle me on his lap. I forget all about where we are and who we are.

“I was good for you tonight,” he murmurs against my mouth, his brow against mine, “Tomorrow you will be good for me, won’t you kitten? Go out with me.”

“Kane…it would cross all the lines we can’t cross. This is…”

“This is not me breaking rules or being bad for the sake of it. I want you, Kinsley. Don’t you feel it?” He wonders, pressing my hand to his chest where his heart pounds.

“Y-yes, I feel it. What about…I mean I what if people see us?”

“What could they say? I am a grown man. Not some innocent student falling under a professor’s influence. And don’t forget,” he husks, brushing his mouth over mine. “I am the predator, kitten. Chasing my prey.”

Before I can stop myself, I crush my lips to his. He groans, his hands sliding up my back to pull me flush against his firm chest. I lick his mouth open, and we moan as our tongues meet, tangling hungrily. My fingers sink into his hair, the tendrils silky as I twirl them.

“Yes,” I whimper as we break apart, both of us breathless.

“Yes you will be a good girl for me tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I moan, head falling back as he works his mouth down my throat. “Yes, I will be your good girl.”

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