His tongue trails from the side of my chin to the corner of my mouth. I'm frozen on spot, barely breathing. When he pulls away, his eyes are the same shimmering silver I had seen the other night. My breathing spikes, and his eyes dart to my mouth. B...
Okay, cupcakes, you can continue now! *MC presses the fast-forward button.* Were we here?
— xxx —
His eyes are burning into me, hand soft as it presses against my neck, pushing—
— xxx —
*repeatedly hits the stop button* WAAAH A LITTLE TOO FAR *presses rewind quickly*
— xxx —
There's a click and I see that he's actually unbuckling his seat belt. "But if I left you alone with them, I'd lose Ms. Hall's trust."
There's definitely a smirk on his lips.
— xxx —
Christ, that was scary. Freaking hate VHSs. *MC shakes head as she presses play, hiding behind the pages*
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— 10 —
Cassadee arches her lips at me as I walk around the Pontiac, but I ignore her, trying to shut the driver's door before Chase can step out.
He already has it halfway opened by the time I round the hood, though, and any attempt at shutting him inside is pretty much hopeless.
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," I hiss.
He doesn't seem phased. "Guess I'll find out."
I groan and turn, barely able to ignore the audible gasps.
Cassadee's snarl is wiped away, mouth now hanging opened as she stares at him with wide eyes. Mother's look isn't any prettier.
"I'm Chase Kingsley," he says naturally, ignoring their looks of utter awe as he holds out his hand, "Ms. Tyler's psychology professor."
Neither of them manages to form a coherent word, mumbled garbage slipping out, but Mother at least takes his hand, going for a handshake, but seeming more like a praise for Jesus. If I wasn't so mortified, I might have laughed.
"I was asked to drop her off by the dean after an incident at school," he explains. "Mind if I come in?"
They snap out of it, both stealing glances of each other as disgusting smiles break out on their faces.
"Of course not!" Mother chirps, fingers sticking in between his to lead him inside. "Any friend of our little Vixen's is welcomed here."
I raise an eyebrow as Cassadee ushers in behind him, as if I don't exist, but shake my head, not surprised. Any time anything remotely attractive crosses their paths, they're on the hunt, and, like an idiot, I forgot he was the epitome of gorgeous. Even as he sits on the plastic-covered love seat, Mother and Cassadee squeezing on either side of him, he looks more fit for magazines. His hair is forever messy, tousled and tangled to a point that if it were on anyone else, it would look unruly. Stubble outlines his hard jaw and the smirk on his lips.
