Lessons In Butterflies ｡ ｡ ｡ (StudentxTeacher Romance)

Chapter 37: Lo-tena Means Hot Too, Right?

Shella's POV:

My head was spinning.

I could still feel the pressure of his lips on mine, the way his hands gripped me like I might disappear if he let go. My legs were still wrapped around his waist, and I could feel every inch of where we were pressed together. 

It was warm, too warm, and yet I couldn't make myself move.

What was I doing?

I wasn't sure if I was even breathing properly. My glasses slid down my nose, and I adjusted them nervously, the action pulling me back to reality.

"Shella," he said, his voice low, like a secret just for me.

I looked at him—his messy hair, those sharp eyes watching me, and the slight curve of his lips like he was trying to hold back a smirk. How was this the same Mr. Caldwell who barked at everyone to sit down and get their work done?

"I—" I started, but my voice cracked, so I cleared my throat and tried again. "This is... um..."

"Unprofessional?" he offered, his hands still holding me steady, but his voice was teasing now.

I blinked, unsure if he was mocking me. "Yes," I said, though it came out more like a question than a statement.

"Probably," he admitted, his lips twitching into a small smile. "But you haven't asked me to stop."

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I couldn't ask him to stop because I didn't want him to. That realisation sent a fresh wave of heat to my face.

"Do you even know what you're doing to me?" he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips.

I shook my head quickly, because no, I didn't.

He exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing against mine again. "God, you're going to ruin me, Shella."

"I didn't mean to," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

He let out a low laugh, the sound vibrating through me. "Of course you didn't. That's what makes it worse."

I felt his hands shift slightly, and suddenly I was aware of everything—how close we were, how his chest rose and fell against mine, and how my legs were still locked around his waist like I belonged there.

"I should—" I started, trying to untangle myself, but his hands tightened slightly, holding me in place.

"Not yet," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine.

My heart stuttered, and I froze. Not yet? 

What did that even mean?

But before I could ask, there was a sharp knock on the door.

Both of us turned toward the sound, the spell breaking in an instant.

"Mr. Caldwell?" a voice called from the other side.

Panic surged through me. I scrambled out of his arms, nearly tripping over myself as I slid off him and grabbed my bag.

"Go," he said quickly, his voice steady but his jaw clenched.

I nodded, my cheeks burning, and darted for the door, my heart pounding as I slipped out without looking back.

As I hurried down the hallway, I couldn't stop replaying everything in my head. His words, his hands, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

What had I done?

And why, despite everything, did I want to go back?

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