“Stop thinking of me as that huge kid who barely fit in those little-ass desks, that kid who gave you a hard time in class.” I dip my head lower and graze my lips over hers, retreating the second she leans in for more. “And start thinking of me as the man with a huge cock that will barely fit in your tight little pussy. The man who will fuck you so hard and so good, you forget that he was ever anything but that man.”
She whimpers as I slide my hand between her thighs to palm her possessively, reminding her of what I did and how I made her feel only a minute ago. I don’t even think she realizes that her legs squeeze together, trapping my hand in place.
“Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll have dinner with you.”
“Perfect.” I smile, then reach behind her to open the French door. “Dinner’s at nine, Miriam. Wear something nice.”
5
Miriam
What am I doing? How did everything get so turned upside down that I’m about to have an intimate dinner with an eighteen-year-old former student? Have I completely gone mad?
As if agreeing to dinner is the worst thing you’ve done with Devin Adler today.
My face burns from the reminder of what happened earlier. I can’t believe I rode his hand—in broad daylight, in my backyard—to the most explosive orgasm of my life. I’ve never done anything like that, and that’s not even taking his age or who he was to me six weeks ago into account.
It’s not that I haven’t had good sex with past boyfriends. It’s just never been what I’d call…adventurous. I’ve enjoyed a healthy sex life—when I’m having it—but I’d be lying if I said the added forbidden and reckless elements with Devin didn’t shoot the entire experience into a mind-blowing territory I’ve never even gotten close to.
Now I’m pacing my bedroom floor at five minutes to nine, wearing heels, a backless royal blue mini-dress held up by the thinnest of spaghetti straps, my hair flowing in soft waves over my shoulders, and more makeup than I ever wore to school. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything more than at-home-casual or in-class-professional that I forgot what it was to look like paint-the-town-red. One last glance in the mirror gives me the boost of confidence I need to leave the safety of my bedroom and head downstairs.
The heavenly scents of garlic and spices hit me when I reach the kitchen, but it’s completely clean. Movement on the patio catches my eye and when I step outside, my eyes widen at the transformation he managed in such a short time.
Long strands of white lights have been strung through the lanai overhead to give the patio a soft glow. The table is set, complete with lit candles, and platters of roasted red potatoes and asparagus. The lights in the pool are on and a handful of tiki torches glow around the perimeter. Put together, my backyard has all the feel of a private resort setting.
“Right on time.” Devin sets down the tongs where he’s grilling at the far edge of the patio and walks toward me.
Holy wow. I’m speechless. He looks so different from how I’ve ever seen him. He’s still tall and broad and sexy as sin, but instead of T-shirts and worn jeans, he’s filling out a pair of dark slacks and white suit shirt with a charcoal gray tie. His sleeves are rolled up to the middle of his suntanned muscular forearms, and his tie is loosened with the top buttons of his shirt undone.
When I left him this afternoon he’d already had the start of a five o’clock shadow and his dark hair was a mess from the water, sweat, and my fingers. Now he’s clean-shaven with his hair styled back. Gone is the teenage jock, and in his place stands a young man who looks like he’s winding down after a long day of meetings.
Devin is unbelievably handsome, and from the confident way he carries himself, he knows it. Which is even more of a turn-on for me, not less. So much so that he should come with his own warning label.
He does. It’s called ‘Still years away from the legal drinking age’, dummy.
I’m starting to rethink this whole thing, but when he stops in front of me, thinking becomes impossible. He’s so tall, even in heels I have to look up to meet his dark eyes, and his cologne is intoxicating. I don’t even realize he’s taken my hand until he places a warm kiss to the center of my palm and my entire body comes alive.
“You look nice.” It’s a ridiculous understatement, but I already mentioned my inability to think.
The hint of a smile peeks out, like he’s amused but trying not to show it. “I know how to clean up when the occasion calls for it. But you…” He runs the backs of his knuckles across my cheek, sending shivers down my spine. “You’re absolutely stunning, Miriam.”
Stunning. It’s not a soft word like beautiful or pretty or even gorgeous. Stunning has power behind it, force. As silly as it sounds, his choice of words instills me with some of his confidence, and the thorny vines of anxiety that have been winding through me all evening start to retract.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “I can’t believe you did all this.”
He shrugs one big shoulder and faces the patio as he holds my hand, intertwining our fingers as naturally as though we’ve done it a hundred times. “Wasn’t hard. I plugged in a few strands of lights and set the table while the potatoes and asparagus were roasting in the oven then threw the steaks on last. How do you like yours cooked?”
“Medium rare.”
He smiles. “I knew I liked you. Come on, they should be about done.”
Devin surprises me when he holds out the chair for me as though we’re at a five-star restaurant instead of my backyard patio. Then he settles his large frame into the chair to my side, making an already intimate atmosphere even more so. I try not to think about that as we fill our plates with delicious smelling food and dig in.
Unfortunately, my brain has no intentions on letting me forget exactly what it is I’m doing—sitting at a candlelit table with Devin Adler, enjoying a meal he prepared at my house, while dressed in what can only be described as date attire. The whole thing is so surreal I wonder if maybe I’m in the middle of a fever dream. Lowering a hand under the table, I test my theory with a quick pin— Ow! Okay, not a fever dream.
We eat in silence for a few minutes, me self-conscious about everything I do and him casually taking in every move I make. I’m ten times more nervous right now than any first date—not that this is a first date—I’ve ever been on, but so far I’m doing a good job of hiding it. I mean, I haven’t knocked over my glass of wine or anything.
Wine…
I didn’t notice anything odd about our place settings until just now. I have a glass of red wine and the very underage man next to me is currently taking a long pull from a bottle of beer. I stare at the innocuous wine in front of me, unsure what to do. Normally I wouldn’t think twice about drinking it, but when the weight of my sins is already so heavy, I’d rather not add “contributing to underage drinking.”
“Relax, it’s NA beer, Miriam.” Devin sets the beer down and spins the bottle so I can see the label.
“Non-alcoholic?” I release a breath of relief. “Sorry, I guess I jumped to conclusions based on things I heard in the Teacher’s Lounge.” Things like how much Devin enjoyed country keggers. Not that he ever got in trouble for it. As long as the cops didn’t have to bust it up, the faculty and coaches looked the other way. Benefits of being the Golden Boy in Small Town, USA.