Enforce

by Rachel Van Dyken

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Lovesick Mafia boss, party of one. Your table's ready… hell.

  Nixon

  My eyes greedily scanned the classroom as I waited for Trace to walk in. From every angle I was screwed, and not the type of screwed where I know I can actually sweet-talk my way out of the situation, but so screwed that I was okay with it.

  Since when had I ever been okay with being trapped? Small spaces? Not my thing. Boxes? Torture? Not so much — reminded me too much of being a kid, of being beat. But with Trace? Damn, I was like a lab rat, just begging to go into my prison so I could repeat the same shitty process over and over again. I was classically conditioned to want her — and it was all her fault. From her ability to treat me like a complete ass most of the time, to the way she challenged everything that came out of my mouth, only to get me to become dangerously obsessed with everything that came out of hers.

  I leaned against the desk as the class started walking in. They were used to me subbing by now, and I was more than happy to do it. Which again proved the whole trapped theory. I wanted to see her, and I was willing to do anything — arrange my entire schedule and slice the professor's tires so he'd had to take a sick day once he got back from the funeral. Really. Anything. To be in her presence. To make sure she was safe. Because I didn't trust my men, and I sure as hell didn't trust Chase, not after watching him — watch her.

  He was addicted, just like me.

  But I wasn't into sharing.

  Not like that.

  And he didn't know the history I had with Trace. Our history had destroyed me, it had created me, molded me into the person I was today. All I'd ever told him had been the basics, but I knew he'd assumed it was more than I'd let on.

  "You drool," I whispered the minute Trace walked by me toward her desk.

  Her entire body froze. And then, slowly, she turned and shot daggers in my direction. God, I'd go through hell if she'd just glare at me like that every second of every day.

  Trace raised her hand.

  I crossed my arms, waiting for her to flip me off or at least make a face.

  Instead, she just rolled her eyes and shuffled to her seat.

  I loved being under her skin, almost as much as I loved touching her skin, feeling the barely restrained desire bubbling beneath the surface. I wanted her so bad that every time I kissed her, my body was slammed with such a heady desire to push her against the wall, most of the time, I had to step away. Losing control wasn't something I was comfortable with — no matter how tempting she may be.

  Once everyone was seated, I took attendance and turned down the lights. "Movie day."

  Cheers erupted around the room. Hell, we were in bad shape if these were the future leaders of the free world.

  Trace shifted in her seat and pulled out a notebook, not even noticing that I'd walked around the back of the class and sat down behind her.

  Tucking her dark brown hair behind her ears, she leaned back in her chair and sighed.

  "Hey," I whispered, my tongue dancing along the edge of her ear.

  "Crap!" Her desk moved a few inches to the left before she turned around and glared. "Are you trying to kill me?"

  If she only knew how she was killing me, ripping me to shreds, peeling back all of the armor I'd placed so strategically over the past few years. If she only knew.

  I offered an easy smile and began toying with the edge of her shirt, rubbing the thin cotton material between my fingers. "Not at all. Remember? I'm the one who keeps you safe. I'm the one that would die for you and all that? Why? Want me to prove my loyalty?" Sign me up. I'd prove it in a heartbeat.

  "I'm trying to watch the movie," Trace stuttered, her voice wavering before clearing her throat and looking down at the desk.

  "No, you're not." I sighed and leaned back against the crappy chair. Damn, her eyes were beautiful. They almost looked black in the darkness.

  "Yes. I am." She gritted her teeth, and damn if the girl didn't turn around and try to focus on the lamest movie ever created. It was cute, her determination to ignore me. What was even cuter? The fact that she thought she was able to lie about the way she felt, when her body sang to me every chance it got.

  Like it was singing now.

  I yawned, my arms reaching out on either side of her body before very slowly pulling her flush against the back of her chair. Exactly where I wanted her. Where I could feast on everything she had to offer. On my time. After all, teachers have the final say in class. Right? Her skin was so soft, my hands kneaded around her neck, and then dipped into her hair. The silky tendrils floated between my fingertips, wrapping themselves around and around until I dizzied from lust.

  It wasn't enough.

  I lifted her hair to my face and inhaled.

  Body on fire, I tried to adjust myself as best I could in the seat without falling out of it and glanced casually around the room. Nobody was paying attention. Then again, we were far enough back that all it would take was one student to turn around, and we'd be screwed. The idea should have made me stop; instead it made me desperate for more as the air buzzed with tension.

  With deliberate slowness, I moved my right hand underneath her shirt, the pads of my fingers grazing the sensitive skin just above her hip before slowly moving upwards toward her bra.

  Trace froze. Her entire body was on fire. I could feel its heat through my palm. Her breathing hitched as she gripped the sides of the desk and leaned back, giving me better access.

  My left hand joined my right, and I was exactly where I wanted to be, playing with the fastener of her bra and imagining bending her over the very desk she was sitting in. Pretty sure that wouldn't be put in the Eagle Elite yearbook.

  Then again, what a freaking gorgeous picture — Trace underneath me. I shuddered and moved my hands under her bra strap, grazing the tips of her breasts. She jumped a foot and let out a little moan.

  "Hmm. I took you for more of a comfortable-type of girl. Is this lace?" My lips grazed her ear again. The temptation was too much, I licked along the edge of her earlobe and then sucked before adding, "It's sexy." As. Hell. My teeth tugged again as my hands moved against her hips, pulling her body tighter against the desk. Damn inconvenient to have two objects between us. I grunted in frustration. Why the hell had I thought this was a good idea? How was I supposed to hide all evidence of what was going on? I was nearly exploding from want, and I still had to go stand in front of the entire class.

  I dipped my thumb into the top of her skirt and then pushed my hand down just as Trace let out another moan — this one embarrassingly louder than the first.

  A guy from the front row turned around just in time for me to peel my hands from Trace's body and send him a glare from the pit of hell.

  It helped that the same guy who'd turned around may have seen me throw a knife at Chase's face last semester.

  Paling, the guy nodded once and then, stiff as a board, returned his attention to the movie.

  The rest of class I kept my hands to myself.

  Not because I wanted to or because I suddenly found the ability to practice self-control. No, it was because I had been about five seconds away from throwing everyone out of the classroom and locking the door behind them, trapping Trace with me and keeping her until I had my… fill. And I was pretty sure I wouldn't be satisfied with just a few minutes.

  The more time I spent with her, the harder it was to walk away, and, in the end, that was exactly what I intended on doing. My life wasn't hers, and I was going to keep her out of the line of fire if I had anything to say about it.

  When class ended, I made my way back to the professor's desk and waited for Trace to walk by. When she did, I reached out and grabbed her just as she was about to make her escape. "Where do you think you're going?"

  "To class?" She didn't turn around, just nervously grabbed at the necklace around her neck.

  "Come here," I ordered gruffly, unable to soften my voice even if I wanted to.

  "I didn't hear please." Her voic
e was teasing, taunting.

  Didn't the little girl know it was dangerous to tempt the lion? I'd devour her on the spot.

  I took a few steps toward her and very quietly pushed the door closed in front of her, then whispered against the mop of brown hair, "Please."

  I stepped back and waited while she turned around. Her face was drawn tight, angry.

  "Sit," I commanded, pointing to a nearby chair.

  She dropped her bag to the floor and crossed her arms, her eyebrows shooting up.

  "Please." I smirked.

  "Fine." She went over to the desk and leaned against it. Her skirt hiked up, flashing me a view of her muscular thighs. My eyes followed the line of her long legs.

  "I need you to do me a favor."

  "I won't have sex with you. I'm not that kind of girl." Trace said it in such a bored tone I almost did a double-take. Why the hell did she have to say sex? Especially standing there in what every sane guy would explain as the perfect schoolgirl fantasy? Short uniform, long legs. I tried not to growl in irritation.

  One. Two. Three. Four. I regained my calm and answered, "I deserved that."

  "And more." She grinned.

  "Care to punish me?" If she said yes. All bets were off.

  "I'm leaving." She rolled her eyes and pushed away from the desk.

  "Wait." I reached out and gently touched her arm. "I just… I wanted to warn you. Be careful, okay?"

  She nodded.

  "I'll see you at lunch?" I didn't want her to think that's all I was after — her body. I wanted so much more. I wanted things a guy like me wasn't allowed to want. When you wanted something as bad as I wanted Trace, people saw it as a weakness. A chink in my armor. They'd eventually use her against me, and I'd be lost, because I'd do anything to keep her safe. I'd die, in order for her to live.

  "Yup, remember? I've got your keycard." She flashed me a smile.

  "Keep it." I shrugged then looked down at the necklace she'd been toying with. Shit. Phoenix could not see that necklace. "Another favor?"

  "Wow, you're just full of requests this morning, aren't you?"

  What was she doing? Trying to see how desperate she could make me? Had she any idea the effect she had on me? Did she even know one simple word would seal her fate? I wouldn't hesitate to rip that tiny skirt directly from her body if she as much as nodded in my direction. And that wasn't me. Not my style. But I wasn't exactly thinking clearly after the movie foreplay. I licked my lips. "Oh, I can think of some more favors. How bad do you want an A?"

  "Not bad enough to see you naked," she retorted.

  I laughed softly and tilted her chin toward me, examining her too honest eyes and full lips. "Don't wear expensive jewelry during the school day. I would hate to see you lose something important to you." I nodded at her necklace. "Please? That's something even my money can't replace."

  Trace's eyes widened as if she didn't know how to respond to me.

  One kiss. I could handle one kiss, and then I was going to explode. I quickly brushed my lips across hers and whispered, "Have a good day, Trace."

  She started to speak, but I pressed my fingertips against her mouth. "Don't ruin it by saying something. Now. Go to class."

  Nostrils flaring, Trace jerked away from me and grabbed her stuff. She pulled open the door to the classroom with a flourish and stomped out into the hall.

  "Good show," a voice said from the professor's adjoining office.

  Shit. I froze then slowly turned.

  "Chase?"

  "You trying to get yourself killed or are you really just playing with her? Didn't you know? It's rude for the predator to play with its food before it kills it."

  I slammed my hand down on the desk. "It's not like that, and you know it."

  "Then what is it like?" Chase snarled. "Hmm? What the hell has you so wound up, Nixon? She'll make you weak."

  "This isn't about weakness." My eyes narrowed in on Chase. "It's about her, isn't it?"

  "You'll be the death of Trace," he defended, placing his gun on the table and pulling out a knife then tossing it into the air. "You'll kill her."

  "And you won't?"

  "Nixon…" Chase leaned against the desk. "The professor was supposed to be gone a day, max. Upon his return last night, you caused him to get into an accident so you could take over his class. So you could toy with her emotions. Again. So you could get what you want and damn the consequences. Again."

  "You can't speak to me like that," I snapped.

  "I sure as hell can!" Chase tossed the knife onto the desk, and it clamored against the pencils. "I'm the only one with balls enough to tell the boss when he's made a mistake, and that's what you're doing, Nixon. Frank won't like it. That's his granddaughter. You think he's just going to give her to you? You think he's going to let you play house?"

  "I don't want to play house."

  "Too late," Chase whispered, picking up the gun from the desk. "You aren't a sure thing, Nixon. You could be dead tomorrow."

  "I could be dead in the next five minutes with the way you're waving that gun around." I ran my fingers through my hair.

  "You're losing your edge," Chase pointed out. "And you're all this family has."

  "What exactly are you saying?" I knew what he was saying, but I needed to hear it. I needed to be reminded.

  "I'll take care of her."

  "Chase—"

  "Nixon," Chase yelled. "You. Will. Kill. Her. Do you understand what I'm saying? We don't know what Phoenix is up to. He knows you like Trace, and Frank looks like he's about one slip away from pulling the trigger on you. Let me."

  "Giving you this job…" I closed my eyes. "By doing this, by protecting her, choosing her… I divide us."

  "Nixon," Chase walked up to me and placed his hand on my arm. "It's been slowly happening for a while. I can't help it. Just like you can't help it. But I can do a better job, at least admit that."

  "Fine." I jerked away from him. "Give me some time with her, just a little… more. More time."

  "I give you more time, and Frank pulls that trigger." Chase groaned.

  "The let him pull it, damn it!" I yelled, pushing all of the books off the desk and then kicking it.

  "You're not yourself."

  "No shit!" I spat.

  "I'm your best friend. When the time's right, assign me to Trace-duty. I'll do what you can't…"

  "And what's that?"

  "Protect you first… love her second."

  "I—"

  "You're the boss. You live," Chase answered. "Period."

  I nodded and walked out of the room, sick to my stomach because I knew before Chase had even said anything I wouldn't be the death of Trace. Not if I could help it.

  But she just may be the death of something else.

  Chase and my friendship.

  And I had a sinking feeling I'd just sealed our fate.