I take a slow step back. “You’re wrong. I wasn’t looking at you like anything. You’re seriously scaring me and if you don’t leave, I’m going to scream—”
He lunges forward, getting hold of my bicep. “Stop denying it.”
I tug on my arm, but his grip tightens, hurting me. “I’m a student. You’re my teacher—”
“But you’re an adult. You’ll graduate soon. We can see where this goes.”
This time I use more force, thankfully freeing my arm. “Are you crazy? I said no. Not now, not ever.” I take a small step back, preparing to bolt, but his eyes drop to my feet, seeing my next move. He steps forward to grab for me again, and I turn on my heel to run, but my boots skate on a patch of ice, and I slip. My hands fly out to catch myself as I fall, and I howl out when my wrist twists against the ground.
“Catalina, are you okay?” Mr. Gibson comes at me, and I thrust my good hand up to keep him away.
“Stay away from me,” I cry out, but he doesn’t listen. He kneels next to me in the snow. One second, he’s grabbing at my shoulders to cradle me, and the next, he’s gone.
“Get the fuck away from her.” Hunter.
A relieved sob travels up my throat at the familiar voice.
“Stay out of this. She has nothing to do with you.”
“Oh yeah? I say otherwise. Stay the fuck away from her, or I’ll go to the school board and tell everyone what a sick fuck you are, stalking and toying with a student.”
“It’s not stalking if she invited me here.”
Hunter takes a swing at him, and Mr. Gibson stumbles back. “Stay the fuck away from her.”
Mr. Gibson looks at me, waiting for me to say otherwise. When I don’t, he turns his seething gaze to Hunter. “This isn’t over.”
“The fuck it isn’t.” He brings his fist back, ready to take another shot, when Mr. Gibson rears back and takes off into the darkness.
Hunter slides down next to me. “You okay?”
I try to sit up, wincing at the pain in my wrist. “I think so.”
“Come on. Let’s get you home.”
He helps me stand. I wobble on my feet and yelp when he lifts me in his arms. “Hunter, you can’t carry me all the way home.”
“I’m not. I’m parked just across the field.”
“How did you—?”
“I know you come here. I saw you once. I wasn’t being creepy, just curious where you went all the time. When I came home tonight, I saw you weren’t there. I took my first guess and came here. Thank god I did.”
My words get lodged in my throat. My emotions get the best of me, and instead of saying thank you, I nuzzle my face into the warmth of his neck. He carries me to his car and buckles me in.
“Do you want to go to the ER?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“All right. Let’s go.” He runs around the car and climbs in. The short drive home is silent, the rumble of his engine filling the space. When we make it into the house, he tells me to get warm and go to bed, he’s got some things to take care of. I hate that he’s leaving me. I don’t want to be alone. But then I watch him disappear into the kitchen. While he’s occupied, I take a shower. The warmth of the pajamas I slip into after has never felt so good. When I climb into bed, I notice a first aid kit. A wrap and bandages for my wrist. After two failed attempts of trying to wrap it myself, I knock on Hunter’s door.
“Come in.”
I push the door open to find him on his bed, freshly showered and shirtless. “Thanks for the bandages, but I can’t seem to…uh, do it—”
“Come here.” There’s a sharp tone to his voice, but it doesn’t bother me. I sit at the end of his bed while he takes the material and begins to wrap my wrist.
“Thank you for tonight. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown—”
He cuts me off as if he doesn’t care to hear the rest. “Don’t mention it.”
When he’s done, he doesn’t automatically release my hand. And for a second, I don’t want him to. Our eyes find each other, and I feel the soft brush of his thumb along the palm of my hand. It sparks a sensation inside me that sends an ache down to my core.
“I should probably go.”
“You should,” he replies. But I don’t get up. I don’t know whether it’s the need to be with him again or being scared.
I take the chicken way out and go with the latter. “Can I sleep in your room tonight? I’m just. . . scared to be alone.”
His face is stoic, void of any emotion. He waits for a beat, then says, “Yeah. Just don’t snore. Fucking hate snorers.”
My lips curl up into a gentle smile, and he moves over for me to climb up. Once I’m under the covers, he reaches over and turns off the light. I flip to my side, and even in the darkness, I can feel his eyes on me.
“Good night.”
“Yeah, night,” he replies. His voice is strained. Exactly how my body feels. I think back to what Melissa shared today. How he saved me again. Have I been all wrong about Hunter? I ache to touch him again. Feel his hands on me. If just once more. With a slowness, I reach out and find his face. Cupping his cheek, I lean in and press my lips to his. He’s still at first, and I worry I made a mistake and he’s going to kick me out. But then his hands find me and pull me into him.
Unlike the other encounters, this one is different. There’s nothing savage about our kiss. It’s slow and careful. He releases a slow breath, only to deepen our embrace. My breasts begin to swell with need. I slide up his torso and wrap my leg over him to straddle him, refusing to break our kiss. The hardness of his cock rests between us, and the wetness between my thighs builds.
He breaks our kiss to suck on my bottom lip. His teeth graze my skin, and I moan into his mouth. His hands work up and down my sides as mine work up his chest and into his thick hair.
“What are we doing?” he asks.
“I’m not sure. Making another bad decision? Leaning on each other for comfort? I can’t define it, but I don’t want it to stop.” He growls and retakes my mouth. His hips thrust up, and he grinds against my swollen pussy. I raise up and pull off my shirt, exposing my breasts. Hunter sits forward, sucking a bud into his mouth. I rest my head back, loving the way his mouth feels on me. Sucking. Nibbling. “Yes, Hunter…” I moan as he nips at my flesh.
“I’ve dreamt about these in my mouth. Just as perfect as I imagined.” He squeezes my tits together, feasting on them, sucking each nipple into his mouth until I’ve had too much.
“Take your pants off,” he orders, and I do as I’m told. I slip out of my pajama pants while he pushes his down. When I climb back on, his cock is standing at full salute, waiting.
“Fuck, Cat…” He says my name like he’s been fighting to stay away. Until now. I lift up as he positions himself at my center, then slide down. “Jesus,” he moans when I take him all in. My own sounds of pleasure roll off my tongue as he fills me. He feels so deep in this position, and I love every second of it. I lift my hips and slide back down, spiraling into a world of pure ecstasy.
I’m not sure how long I can last. This feels too good. With each thrust, he feels bigger and wider, stretching me, filling every part of me. I can’t take it any longer and start to ride him hard and fast. “Fuck, I’m going to come,” I confess as his hands go up and squeeze my breasts. I’m on the edge, unable to hold on any longer when he flips us.