The Force of Gravity(43)

I force my lips onto his anyway. He kisses me back with fervor, jerking my hips against him once more before breaking away again.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Kaley, don’t,” he cautions. “If you don’t stop, I won’t be able to do the right thing.”

I trail my fingers across his chest. “But what if it is the right thing?”

He shakes his head, giving me a lopsided smile. “Not yet, baby.”

I sit back in a huff. “Okay, calling me ‘baby’ isn’t helping the situation.”

His brow rises. “Oh?”

“It’s driving me insane.”

He flashes a wicked grin. “Good to know.”

I take that as a challenge and press my mouth to his ear as I whisper in my best throaty voice, “I need you, Elijah.”

He lets out a frustrated groan and with gentle force, slides me off his lap. I dissolve into laughter as I sink into the couch.

“You are so beautiful,” he says, watching me.

My laughter subsides. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m a mess!” I wipe under my eyes, and the realization of him seeing my cry face makes me want to hide.

“You’re always beautiful,” he says, pulling my legs across his lap. “But you have too many dresses that should be illegal.” I smile, and he laces his fingers with mine. “Are you feeling better?”

I nod. “You made me feel better . . . and more sexually frustrated than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Right back at ya, Kay,” he says. “Seriously, are you going to be okay to drive home tonight?” He fiddles with the hem of my dress. “Because we’ll have to burn this dress and put you in a potato sack if you plan on staying the night.”

I laugh, a thrill running through me. “Don’t worry, I have to go home. My dad is freaking out as it is.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You know, if you can’t live with your mom, NAU is a good school. If you’d be happier living with your dad.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say.

“It is a good school.”

“I’m not putting down your school,” I say. “I’m not leaving you.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I cringe internally. Why do I have to be so transparent around him?

“Kay, don’t make any decisions based off me.”

I feel a tight pinch in my chest, but I know he’s right.

“I’m not,” I say, dropping my gaze. “It’s not just that. Sorry, I don’t mean to imply that we’re in a serious relationship or anything, I—”

“Hey,” he says, lifting my chin. “I don’t want you to leave. But I’m not going to be selfish here. I don’t want you to be unhappy.” He shifts me around so my legs slide off his lap and wraps his arm around me. “I want you to live your life, baby.” He kisses me on my temple.

“I am living my life,” I say. I lean against his chest and notice his cluttered coffee table. His grade book is propped open with stacks of papers covering the entire surface. “Oh my gosh. You were busy when I called. I’m so sorry; I should go.” I spring forward, but he latches onto my waist, pulling me back.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he says, holding me tight. “No big deal.”

The scene reminds me he’s an adult. Like, a real adult with real responsibilities. It also reminds me he’s my teacher.

“Wait,” I say, craning my neck. My gaze locks onto the stack near the back. “That’s my class. Are those our tests from Thursday? Can I see my grade?” I feel his chest shake with laughter.

“I’ll grab it,” he says, releasing his hold on me and sitting up. “You’re not allowed to see other students’ grades.” He kneels on the floor in front of me and searches through the stack.

In a playful, yet seductive tone, I say, “Since when are we following the rules, Mr. Slate?”

“Kaley,” he says sternly. “Don’t.”

I giggle and take advantage of his position, looping my arms around him from behind and nibble on his ear. He tosses the stack of papers, and they fall in a haphazard pile as he whips around and reaches up to kiss me. My hair falls around his face, creating a private cave just for our lips. I wrap my legs around his chest, and he slides his hands up my thighs, grabbing my backside and grunts as he yanks me forward with force. I grip his back as he lifts me up and sits back on the coffee table. My knees press against the stacks of papers, and I’m pretty sure he’s sitting on his grade book. He lets me push him down on the table, and two more stacks fall to the floor.

“Sorry,” I murmur, pushing up his shirt. I kiss his neck and slowly make my way down his well-muscled chest, listening to his staggered breathing. I think I hear him whisper “Kaley,” but I’m not sure. When I’m almost to his belly button, I slip my fingers under his waist band and start to pull.

“Kaley-Kaley-Kaley,” he says panicked. He pulls me to his face as he sits up, causing more papers to slide off the table. He shakes his head as he tries to catch his breath. “You . . . I can’t. Don’t—” He lays back down, his hands resting on my thighs, and whispers, “Shit.”

I lean forward over his heaving chest, pinning my gaze on him. Lowering myself, I place my lips softly against his, and he moves his tongue like honey across mine, his arms wrapping around my back. As I start to slide my hips against him, he grabs hold of my arms, pushing me back.

“Kaley,” he says, his voice raspy. He sits up and slides me farther back, so I’m sitting almost to the edge of his knees.

I bite my lip. “Sorry.” I glance around at the mess of papers spread across the floor and try not to laugh. “Ooh, really sorry. This has to be killing you.”

“Ha! You’d think. But if I have the strength to stop this,” he says, gesturing to me. “Then I can handle a little mess.

I slip my hand through my hair. “Well . . . thanks for getting my mind off things, big guy,” I say with a laugh.

An impish smile curves his lips upward. He rises from the table, lifting me with him, and flings me onto the couch. I squeal, then break into hysterics.

“Glad I could be of service, Kay,” he says dryly, turning back to the mess.

He doesn’t let me help him gather up the assignments—he’s serious about me not seeing another student’s grade—and tosses them in a sloppy pile on the coffee table, then joins me on the couch with my test.

“Promise me you’ll stay calm when I show you this,” he warns.

My laughter vanishes, and I sit up as panic washes over me.

“You’re not calm,” he says, noting my expression.

“Well, you’re obviously about to deliver bad news,” I exclaim. I snatch the paper out of his hand, revealing my grade. “I got a C?” I slump back on the couch. “It’s not even a high C.”

He grabs the test and tosses it on top of the pile before I can dissect it. “Do you realize the average grade in this class is a 67.9 percent?”

“Seriously? That’s average?”

“Yes. You’re still near the top of the class, Kay. You’re smart and beautiful—you need to calm down. Okay?”

I nod, then groan. “I absolutely hate what I have to say right now.”

His body stiffens. “What?”

“I have to get back home before my dad’s blood pressure rises any more than it already has.”

“That might help my blood pressure, too,” he says with a wink.

“Hey, that’s all you, buddy. I’m more than willing to release the pressure.”

He shakes his head. “You are going to be the death of me.” He pulls me off the couch and leads me back out to the garage.

“Drive safely,” he says, opening my door for me.

“I will,” I reply. “And thank you.”

“Anytime.”

He wraps me in a tight embrace, and I inhale deeply.

“Damn,” I say, breathing him in. “I’m going to miss this smell tonight.

He steps back, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Here,” he says, handing it to me.

I burst out laughing. “Are you serious right now?”

“Anything to put a smile on that beautiful face.” He leans down to kiss me, and I take full advantage of his nakedness, sliding my hands across his mountainous chest and ripped abs. I hear his breath catch in his throat.

“Sorry,” I say, pulling back.

His eyes burn through me. “Don’t be.”

“Thank you for tonight . . . and today with Tommy. Do you think you’ll be in trouble?”

He clears his throat. “I’ll be okay.” He sounds confident, but I catch a trace of uneasiness beneath his eyes.

“I better head back,” I say.

“Okay,” he whispers. He holds the door as I slide into the driver’s seat.

“Unless you’re absolutely sure you don’t want to strip me out of this dress and throw me on your bed,” I say, with a playful grin.

He rests his arm on the door frame and ducks his head inside, his eyes darkening. Fitting his fingers underneath my chin, he presses his thumb against my bottom lip, parting it slightly, his gaze fixed on my mouth. Excruciatingly slow, he leans down and skims his lips against mine. Mmm . . . When his tongue finally meets mine, I feel it in the core of my belly, crawling lower, deeper. I’m dizzy when he releases me.