Page 35 of Jagger
“Oh God, no. He’s adorable, and very smart. Don’t tell anyone this,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “but he’s one of my favorites.”
“Oh really? Should I be worried that he’s trying to move in on my girl?”
She snorted a laugh, “I don’t think you have anything to fear from the under the under four-foot-tall crowd.”
“Good to know, Angel. Make sure your door is locked before you go to bed. Do you have an alarm system?” I asked, thinking that if she didn’t, I would look into having one installed for her.
“Yes, a Guardian system, actually. Thanks for the reminder. I just moved here a month ago, and there wasn’t an alarm at the old place. I keep forgetting to set this one.”
I rubbed at the sudden burn in my chest. Apparently, Molly’s lack of concern for her safety would give me indigestion long before dinner with Fuckface would.
“Set your damned alarm, Molly,” I growled.
“I am, I am, keep your panties on, Cole,” she grumbled right back.
“Panties, woman? Did it look like I was wearing fucking panties earlier when I stripped for you?”
She laughed, and the sound made me smile despite my indignation.
“Oh sorry, he-man, but keep your boxers on doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.”
“Yeah, Iwill notbe keeping my boxers on around you, I guaran-fucking-tee it. You’ll be losing your panties really quick, too. That reminds me, can we finally go to the Italian restaurant tomorrow night? I can pick you up at seven o’clock, and I promise to feed you before I fuck you this time,” I teased.
“Cole Morgan!” she gasped in outrage, spoiling it when she laughed. “What is your middle name? I need to be able to use your middle name if you’re going to say things like that.”
“David, what’s yours?”
“Renee, after my mom’s best friend.”
“So, tomorrow night?” I prompted.
“Yes, I would love to have dinner with you tomorrow night, Cole David Morgan.”
“And after, Molly Renee Walsh?” I coaxed with a smile in my voice.
“And after, I’ll let you eat dessert,” she told me in that sultry voice that made my cock harden.
“Oh, fuck me, Angel. I think your halo is slipping again.”
Chapter 9
Molly
Wednesday morning came way too darned early. I blearily peered at my phone as I picked it up from my bedside table, using my thumb to hit the snooze button on my alarm. I dropped the phone down on the bed beside me, flipped my pillow around to the cool side, and snuggled back in for nine more blissful minutes before my alarm would go off again.
I stretched lazily, registering the slight stiffness in my legs. My thigh muscles and hamstrings had gotten more of a workout last night than they had in a very long time, if ever. I grinned at the thought that if the gym offered those kinds of workouts, I wouldn’t mind exercising one little bit.
When my alarm sounded again – I swore it was the shortest nine minutes ever – I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. After showering, I hurriedly dried off, trying to ignore how sensitive my nipples and lady bits were as the towel brushed over them. I applied my make-up and dried my hair, deciding to leave it down today.
I slipped on a pale blue sundress and added a lightweight, short-sleeved, navy cardigan over it, not only to make the sleeveless dress more school-appropriate, but also because the air-conditioning in my classroom was set on arctic blast most days, no matter how much the maintenance staff tinkered with it. Such were the joys of teaching in an older public school building. I quickly made a salad and a half of a turkey sandwich for my lunch today and gulped down a cup of tea while I ate a piece of cinnamon toast and a banana, the latter of which reminded me of last night’s activities with Cole. Before I could get too lost down the carnal memory lane, I slipped on my shoes – a cute pair of comfortable sandals – and collected my purse and messenger bag. I stepped outside and was locking my apartment deadbolt when I remembered that I’d left my lunch on the counter and had forgotten to set my alarm system, again. I was so bad about that, and it drove Brad absolutely nuts because he was worried about me living alone. It appeared it bugged Jagger, too, if his reaction last night was any indication.
I opened the door, snagged my insulated lunchbox from the counter, and hit the button to arm the system before locking up again and dashing down the stairs. I made it to the school with ten minutes to spare, which was fairly good for me. It wasn’t uncommon for me to rush in at the very last minute.
I stashed my lunch in the teacher’s lounge, greeting the various teachers I passed in the halls. Our principal was approaching my classroom door as I headed down the hall toward my room.
“Good morning!” I greeted her cheerfully. Michelle Pritchett was in her mid-forties and had been the principal here for the past six years. She was fair and supportive to her teaching staff, and I had always gotten along well with her.
“Good morning, Molly,” she said, waiting as I unlocked my classroom door. I noticed that her greeting was more subdued than it normally was, and suddenly remembered her strained expression when she saw Cole and me leaving yesterday afternoon. I turned on the lights and placed my purse and bag on my desk before turning toward her, somewhat anxious about her presence here.
