Page 11 of Sweet Ache (Driven 6)
His taunting dare causes my foot to falter on the first step, my quick temper getting the best of me. I turn around and stride back toward him, stopping only when I’m well within his personal space. “No worries there. Must be nice, though…. Stroll in here, act like a wannabe teacher for a few lectures, and that power trip you seem to be needing gets an unwarranted boost for that ginormous ego of yours.”
I see the surprise flicker through his eyes with temerity following closely behind it. He takes a step closer, our bodies a whisper away from each other, and I have to tilt my head up to hold his gaze.
“Since you were late, did you miss who I am? Wannabe is something I surpassed a long time ago.” He grates the words out, that velvet voice packed with grit and coated in an unhealthy dose of conceit.
“Well, excuse me Professor Play,” I say, voice laced with saccharine, as his breath feathers over my lips from our less than professional proximity. “So what? You’re just an asshole on a power trip then?”
A sliver of a laugh falls from his lips but there is anything but humor in it. I know I’ve hit a nerve and hell if I care because he needs to get knocked down a peg.
“So much hostility from such a pretty girl.”
Girl? Guess he’s not noticing my tits or curves. And why does that bug me?
“I’ve got a lot more where that came from,” I reply, taking a step back from his cologne that’s clouding my thoughts and the dark gray flecks in his eyes that mine keep focusing on.
“Thanks for the warning,” he says with a nod of his head, “but I’m not quite sure what I’ve done to deserve it.”
“Nothing.” I snort. “Your type just rubs me the wrong way.”
“I’ll rub you any way you like if you want.” His smile widens and eyes wander down my body and slowly back up in obvious appraisal.
And as much as I’m glad he’s finally taking notice, I hope he likes what he sees because it will be the last time he gets a good look at it. “Like I said, you’re an asshole.”
“I can think of worse things to be.” He shrugs, smarmy look in place that tells me he’s enjoying this. “I hate to break it to you but uh, I’m not going anywhere.” He lifts his chin toward the podium. “I happen to be a wannabe professor.” He licks his bottom lip and steps closer to me. “So we can play this two ways.”
“Two ways?” I don’t think I like where this conversation is going considering that fuck-all smirk of his just widened so big that tiny little dimples appeared. I hear his friend shift and sigh but don’t look.
“Yeah. You know your hostility is obviously masking your true feelings.”
“True feelings?” And there I go again, repeating what he says. How has he reduced me—a woman always confident and quick with my wit—to two-word sentences? I don’t have much time to think about it because he steps closer, causing me to retreat so that the backs of my legs hit the seat behind me. I have nowhere to go now.
“Mm-hm. That you’re hot for teacher.”
I cough out a laugh, choking on my own words with the knowledge of hierarchy of student to professor. I tone down my response before I respond. “I’m sure you’d love to think that, except not everyone is mesmerized by your dazzling charm. Besides, there’s a school policy against fraternization between students and wannabe professors.” I purse my lips and wait for his response.
He glances over to his friend and gives him a look I can’t quite see before running a hand through his hair and focusing back on me. “For some reason I don’t think you care if you follow any rules or not.”
Well, at least he’s got that right because I’m probably breaking several right now with the way I’m speaking to him and I couldn’t care in the least. “You said we could play it two ways,” I say, suddenly remembering the comment from moments before that his cocksure comeback distracted me from. “What’s the second?”
“Drop the class,” he deadpans, eyes daring me to, body telling me not to.
“I can’t.”
“Hm,” he murmurs. “You most definitely aren’t doing it right Trix, if you can’t.”
“Does everything with you have to be sexual?” I ask even though I know damn well the reason I’m hearing the innuendo is because of the supercharged sexual tension I suddenly realize is zinging between us.
“Yes.” He nods but it’s not the matter-of-fact way he says it that causes my libido to stand at attention but rather the predatory way his eyes own mine. “Like I said, if it bugs you that much, be my guest, transfer out.”
“I’m sure you’re not used to being told the word but I’ll gladly say it to you.” I step even closer, our eyes locked, our bodies reacting to the lack of sp
ace between us. I swallow down the lust I don’t want to feel that’s lodged in my throat and whisper the word to him. “No.”
He shakes his head and stares with those storm cloud–colored eyes of his, trying to figure out how to take me. “Why not?”
“Because I’m your TA.”
Chapter 3
