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16
Natalie
Honest to God, he was going to be the death of me with his boundary-pushing ways. Actually, everything about him was killing me—his sharply chiseled jaw and sparkling emerald eyes, his firm, developed chest and abs, adorned with a smattering of moody-looking tattoos, his strong thighs, and his ever-ready dick.
I’d forgotten that about guys his age—they were a walking perma hard-on—but his youthful over-confidence and boyish charm were top of the list. He busted out that smile when he’d said something he knew he shouldn’t have and had overstepped a line. The trouble was, as much as I was resisting it, I really wanted to jump over that line with him. I’d thought of him often since that first night, and had to practically sit on my hands every evening when I considered how easy it would be to hit him up via social media.
Not doing so was a feat of extreme restraint and self-discipline. However, seeing him in the classroom like that had weakened that self-discipline considerably, and then seeing him leaned up against his car all Rebel Without a Cause-like had pretty much smashed my powers of resistance to pieces. Being in the same space and able to kiss, stroke, and squeeze each other did not help my resolve at all.
Despite the fact that there could never be anything between us, and that even thinking otherwise was a disaster waiting to happen, the pull toward him was very real, and very strong. Maybe it was just a hormonal thing—sexual attraction based purely on a chemical reaction between our bodies, rather than our minds—but I still wanted him, and I loved that he clearly wanted me just as much.
“Plan A is that we take this thing to the band room, rather than put on a floor show out here.”
I dropped my eyelids a moment, wanting to buy time to decide what to do next without, having the pressure of those intense green eyes staring me down and stirring me up. I couldn’t believe I was even in this position—contemplating what to do about a “situation” with a guy who was still clinging to his teens, and who it now turned out, in an extra-cruel twist of fate, was a student of mine. It was fucked up with a capital How the fuck did I get myself into these situations?
I opened my eyes slowly and found Luke staring down at me, reading my features, just as I knew he would be.
“We can go into the band room. To talk. It’s kind of loud in here, now that the DJ is playing. The hustle and bustle is distracting, too.”
“Okay. Come on, let’s go.” He was already holding my hand, pulling me gently to go with him.
“Did you hear me? I said we’re going to talk.”
“Yeah I heard, but right now we seem to be doing the talking part, but not the going. Can we just go already?”
I wondered why the hurry, but doubted I’d get a straight answer from him, so I didn’t bother to ask. I guessed all would become clear when we out back, and I could at least hear myself think.
Once in the band room, Luke closed and locked the door behind us. I stared at the lock long and hard, worried for a brief moment that I’d made a mistake in agreeing to be alone back there with him. He followed my eye line, and maybe my thought process.
“Don’t worry. I’m not about to hack you up into little pieces. This isn’t Scream. I just don’t want us to be disturbed.
“We’ll just be talking. Who cares if someone walks in on us?”
“I care. I haven’t been alone with you since that first night. I just want some privacy is all.”
It sounded plausible, but somehow I still didn’t quite believe it. That might have been because he delivered the entire thing with a sexy smile, which suggested that talking was the last thing on his mind, and his hard-on was still clearly visible beneath his pants. He obviously had more than just speaking on his mind.
I realized too late that I’d allowed my eyes to linger on his crotch for far longer than was polite, and when I heard Luke chuckle sexily, I knew that fact hadn’t escaped his notice.
“So you just want to talk, huh?” He moved his hand down and grabbed his junk, pulling his pants taut so that the outline of his dick was even more obvious.
“Because from where I’m standing, you look like talking is the last thing on your mind.” It was ironic how his words echoed my thoughts about him.
I watched rooted to the spot as he undid his zipper and pulled out his dick. I’d kind of forgotten how pretty it was, but was reminded as I tore my eyes away to meet his. Again I found him waiting to meet my gaze.
“Tell me you don’t want me, that you don’t want this.” He glanced down at his package as he pumped his hand back and forth. “And I’ll put it away, and forget we ever met. Oh, and don’t lie. Tell me the truth.”
“It’s not about what I want. I never denied wanting you, but as grown-ups we can’t always have what we want. We have to compromise and make sacrifices. You’ll understand better when you’re older and have seen more of the world.”
I didn’t miss the throb of his temple before he spoke.
“Woman, don’t patronize me. I might be younger than you, but I’m not some green-as-clover kid. I know plenty about sacrifice. More than I care to know, in fact.” He tucked himself back into his boxer briefs and pulled up the zipper sharply.
I was both relieved and bereft at the same time.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, but the fact is that what we want isn’t in question. If I didn’t want you, I wouldn’t have slept with you in the first place. The issue is that this was only ever supposed to be a one-night thing, and now that I know you’re my student, it shouldn’t even have been that, and it definitely can’t be anything more.”
“See, here’s the thing. I may be young, and to your mind, inexperienced, but I can tell you one thing I’ve learned since I’ve been performing, and that’s body language. When we’re on stage, we’ve got to know how to read the room, so that we can give the crowd what they want. Get that wrong, and it can ruin an entire gig. So right now, I’m hearing what you’re saying loud and clear, but I’m also hearing all the shit you’re not saying. Not with words, anyway.”
He began walking toward me slowly, and it was everything I could do not to back away from him. Not that I wanted to, but I sure as hell needed to, for both our sakes.
“You don’t believe what you’re saying any more than I do. You want to believe it and you really want me to believe it, but that’s not the same as feeling it in here.” He stopped too close in front of me, and as he spoke the last word of the sentence, placed his hand over my heart.
Wow.He officially had more emotional intelligence than a college professor fifteen years his senior. Doug had been as much use as a chocolate toaster oven when it came to the big issues, or even the small ones, in our relationship, and had seemed completely incapable of understanding where I was coming from most of the time. Only a nanosecond into knowing me and Luke was already scoring goals. He was a smart ki—man. Not that I was really in a position to criticize others in that regard. He might have been the younger of the two of us, but he seemed more in touch with or in control of his emotions at that point than I was. Go figure.
I placed my hands on top of on my chest, interlocking our fingers. We both stared at our entwined hands for a long, lingering moment. I thought about the contrasts: my long, delicate tawny fingers, one with the marks left by my wedding and engagement rings still faintly visible, despite me not having worn them for coming up to two years. His strong, powerful musician’s fingers—the overworked tools of his trade.
