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And that was a thought I didn’t have the luxury of letting bloom any further in my imagination. At least not while driving and trying to keep my wits about me. Just a few more blocks and we’d reach my residential neighborhood. I could behave myself until we could get a little more space between us.
Honestly, though, I didn’t want to behave. I wanted to do unspeakable things to defile the stunning woman frozen in the seat beside me. My dick swelled to an uncomfortable state, and no amount of shifting relieved the pressure. It was possible her unease was fueling my fire, and she didn’t even realize it. Something about her measured innocence spoke to the darkest places inside me. I wanted to teach her and cherish her at the same time.
We pulled into my quaint neighborhood with tree-lined, quiet streets and charming one-story, old California-style homes. When I purchased the house, it was that very same throwback vibe the entire three-block expanse of houses gave off that spoke to me. The architectural style was understated and comforting and reminded me of a simpler time. These homes were built long before the bigger-is-better real estate mentality took over. Each one was unique and interesting, and I never regretted the purchase. I figured if I ever outgrew the place, whether because I started a family or just needed more room to spread out, I’d keep this place as a rental. It was the perfect starter home or retirement place.
Maye studied the bungalow through the windshield and didn’t give a hint as to what she thought of it. She still cradled her injured arm against her chest, reminding me instantly of why we were here. I needed to take care of her.
Out of the driver’s seat without a word, I hustled to her side, opened the door, and leaned across her to unlatch the seat belt. I heard her inhale sharply and quickly pulled back, thinking I’d jostled her arm inadvertently.
“Oh, sorry. I’ll go slower,” I vowed, and she gave me a quick smile. “Let’s get you inside.”
“No, it’s fine, honest. I can do it,” she said when I offered help to get out, so I forced myself to step back and give her that independence. Her bag tumbled off her lap and onto the driveway, and I bent to pick it up for her before she even realized what happened.
“I’ll carry this. You just keep that stable,” I said and motioned to her arm with my chin. Closing her door behind her, I hit the lock icon on the key fob and escorted her to the front door.
“Sorry if the place is a bit unkempt. I left in a hurry this morning,” I apologized while maneuvering the key into the lock. I swung the heavy door open and swept my arm out for her to lead us inside. I watched her quickly scan the entrance and front room before I locked the door behind us. I hoped we wouldn’t be leaving for the rest of the night, so I locked the deadbolt too.
I led her through the living room and into the kitchen. There was a small island in the center with three stools along the longer side. “Do you want to sit here while I get an ice pack together?”
“I have a choice now?” she asked with a raised brow and pulled one of the stools back with her foot. I decided not to address the comment and busied myself with a Ziploc bag and the ice maker.
“I’ll get you something for the pain too, but I think it would be better with a little something in your stomach. You barely ate lunch,” I continued but stopped babbling when she tilted her head at my observation.
“What?”
“You watch how much I eat?” she asked with disbelief. “You weren’t even in the room.”
“Honestly, Ms. Farsey.” Pausing there, I leaned toward her across the island with my chin propped on one bent arm. “I can’t stop watching everything you do.” My response was bolder and my tone much darker than she was expecting, because she immediately looked away. But I was done tiptoeing around my attraction to her. Now that we were in the privacy of my home, I wanted to drop the confines of our teacher-student association and get to know the woman before me.
“Does that make you uncomfortable? Saying that?” I asked while sliding the ice pack toward her. “That swelling really looks awful,” I muttered.
“It looks worse than it feels,” she said while opening and closing her fist. When I gave her a skeptical look, she added, “Honestly, it’s just throbbing. It will probably be good as new by morning.” She forced a beaming smile, and the whole display pissed me off.
Why did she feel like she had to hide behind the ruse of perfection all the time? I’d bet my paycheck the thing was badly sprained if not broken. At that point, I couldn’t even tell if it was her wrist or arm that suffered the damage, since the entire arm had ballooned.
Then she surprised me by addressing the other question I asked. “No, you don’t make me uncomfortable.” She grinned. “Confused?” she asked and then immediately answered, “Definitely. But not uncomfortable.”
“I confuse you?” I asked with a hint of incredulity.
“Well, at first, I really thought you didn’t like me. At all. But then I see you watching me while I’m working, and yeah, that confuses me. I’m not sure what’s going on here.” Then she added in case I wasn’t clear on the meaning of the last part, “Between us.”
“I’d like to speak openly with you,” I began while cautiously peeking at her reaction. “I’m going to fix you something to eat so you can take something for the pain. What sounds good?” Then I thought about it more. “Although I have limited options here. Bachelor living and all,” I explained while opening the refrigerator. After scanning its contents, the best I could offer was a cup of yogurt or maybe a grilled cheese sandwich if the bread in the pantry was still usable. Maye swiveled on the stool to follow me around the kitchen while I came up with some options.
“Okay, looks like strawberry yogurt or grilled cheese. Either of those sound appealing?” I asked sheepishly. It was a tone I did my best to stay clear of on principle, but I was embarrassed to not be able to provide for her. “Not very impressive, I realize,” I mumbled while waiting for her decision.
“What will you have? You need food as much as I do. I haven’t seen you eat all day. Though, you did go missing around lunch, so maybe you ate then?”
Her comment stopped my pointless shuffling around the kitchen, and I met her waiting gaze. I owed her an explanation for my irregular behavior. I just hoped she could handle the truth. I wouldn’t survive the summer dancing around my attraction to her without knowing how she felt. But Christ, it was so risky. Just laying my feelings out in front of her and letting her decide our fate. Or mine, if nothing else.
“I’m sorry I took off without explaining where I was going. It was rude and, honestly, a little immature. I couldn’t be confined in that small office with you for one more minute and be responsible for my actions.”
She tilted her head, repositioned the ice pack, and asked, “Your actions? What does that mean?”
I came to stand right in front of her. I wanted her to hear the sincerity in what I was about to admit. “Maye, listen. Plain and simply put, I’m attracted to you. Really attracted to you.” I repeated my confession as if saying it over and over was the only way to make peace with it. “When we’re in that confined space, I start to go a little batty wanting to do things to you that I’m not sure you want too.”
Her deep-blue eyes found mine, and I couldn’t quite read her wide expression.
“Oh,” was all she said, and panic rose from my stomach. Did I just fuck up by telling her that so bluntly?
