Collide Series Box Set

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Collide Series Box Set Page 24

by J. C. Hannigan


  For once, it was Harlow who looked completely shocked. She recovered quickly though.

  “You’ll have to see them sometime,” she replied coyly, raising an eyebrow. I blinked and she was disappearing out the door. I inhaled sharply, affected by her words. But what had I expected?

  I had purposely placed myself alone with the girl that I felt a deep, unsettling attraction to. I had purposely danced with danger, provoking and intriguing her. I could tell by the fire in her eyes that she wanted me, just as I wanted her.

  But this was wrong. I couldn’t continue flirting with her, even in an offbeat way. I didn’t want to lead on her in any way.

  Lusting after students was wrong, no matter how stunning the student was.

  * * *

  I spent the whole day Saturday catching up on work. Saturday night was spent playing poker and drinking beers with Mike. Sunday was reserved for all the errands and things I hadn’t had a chance to do yet.

  After a quick trip to the grocery store, I was carrying several bags of groceries up my driveway. I was halfway up the drive, when I heard a commotion from down the street, three guys yelling things at a girl, a girl who was now running straight for me. Realizing the girl was Harlow, I dropped the bags of groceries I had been carrying to catch her as she collided into me. My arms went around her protectively.

  “Please,” she said breathlessly, almost pained. I didn’t even care that my groceries were now splattered all over the walkway. I glanced around, spotting the men running in the opposite direction.

  “Harlow? What happened?” I asked, releasing her to assess her. I brushed a strand of her long hair out of her face and looked into her panic stricken eyes. Her legs were shaking so badly that they gave out. I caught her in my arms, her scent and the feel of her making all of my senses explode.

  I lifted her effortlessly in my arms, carrying her up the steps and across the threshold of my house. I tried not to look down at her, to not think about how inappropriate it was to hold her like that…to bring her into my house and lay her down on my couch. But she needed my help…I couldn’t very well leave her on the street after she’d been chased by those men…

  I told myself that I would have done the same thing for any student, and I would have.

  I crouched before her, my eyes expertly assessing for damage. She didn’t appear to be hurt, but she was definitely having a panic attack.

  Her breath coming out in shallow gasps. “Can you hand me my bag please?” she managed to ask between gasps. I quickly handed it to her and watched as she searched through it. She pulled out a bottle of prescription pills and popped one.

  Realization dawned on me as I eyed the label on her prescription bottle. Clorazepate. She suffered from anxiety, I never would have thought that…she always seemed self-assured.

  “I’m going to make you a tea,” I said, standing up. I left her there, running back outside to grab the abandoned groceries off the driveway and scan the street. There was no sign of the guys who had chased her. Had I not been occupied with making sure Harlow was okay, I would have chased them down. They were long gone now.

  I returned with the groceries, glancing at Harlow with concern as I disappeared into the kitchen. I poured water into the kettle and turned it on, hastily putting away my groceries as I waited for it to come to a boil.

  I knew Harlow was a mere few feet away from me, on my couch. My heart was frantically beating. I could get into all kinds of trouble if the board found out I had a female student in my house, alone.

  I pushed that thought abruptly away. I was just helping her. I hadn’t given her my address and she hadn’t sought me out. It was just one of those fluke things, and I wasn’t about to turn away a panicked girl.

  I grew angrier as I thought about the guys who caused her panic, the guys who chased her down a street at night, yelling things at her while she fled in terror. What kind of man does that? What kind of man teams up with others to harass a young woman?

  I returned to the living room with two steaming cups of tea. I was angry and concerned, and seriously considering getting into my car and driving around town until I found them and taught them a lesson.

  Harlow shrunk back into the couch, seeing the vengeful look on my face. I softened my expression, not wanting to scare her.

  “I’m not angry at you,” I said, sitting on the coffee table in front of her and holding out a mug of hot tea. Our knees were almost touching. She gratefully took in her trembling hands. “I’m angry that I didn’t get a good look at those guys. They were following you, right?”

  She held her head higher and steeled her jaw, trying to appear unaffected and strong. I knew she was shaken though.

  “Yeah. A party I went to last night. I walked in on the one guy…taking advantage of a girl. He raped her,” she replied, her voice shaking.

  “Jesus.” I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the roots. I was fucking livid. I wanted to find out the name of the low life and lay my fists into his face. “If I had known, I would have…” I trailed off, glaring out toward the street.

  “Would have what? You would have chased them down?” Harlow scoffed. I gave her a steady, quietening look. It wasn’t a laughing matter. Of course…Harlow wasn’t laughing. She was just pointing out a fact. Chasing them down would have been a bad idea. I tried to reel in my anger. It was only possible after she lifted her face and locked eyes with me. We stared at each other for several long minutes. I was overly aware of every rise and fall of her chest, and the scent of her was intoxicating.

  I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her until her heartbeat slowed, then I wanted to make it speed up again…for an entirely different reason. It was getting harder and harder to be alone with her. My house was too quiet, every inappropriate thought I had seemed to echo in the chambers of my mind.

  “I should call the police, so you can report this to them,” I said after a moment of charged silence.

  She chewed her lip, the tormented action drawing my attention to her plump lips, and gazed out the window. She was conflicted about something. “I’d rather not. They can’t really do anything.”

  I sighed heavily. “Harlow, that girl at the party…it’d help her case, especially because you witnessed what happened and that guy attacked you that night and followed you tonight.”

  “Won’t I get in trouble for being here?” she asked, looking at me with curiosity.

  My breath hitched as I looked at her. I didn’t need the reminder that one of my very gorgeous students was sitting on my couch, in my house…alone with me. I didn’t need to think about how I was desperately trying to fight my body’s reaction to her.

  “Why would you be in trouble?” I questioned. I wanted to touch her. I didn’t want her to think I was some creepy teacher that would take advantage of her. That wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted her, yes…but she was my student, and she’d just been chased. My concern for her was overriding my desire for her, although I still felt that too.

  I forced myself to remain still. She avoided my intense gaze, choosing to instead stare into the mug of tea.

  “Because, you’re my English teacher and I ended up on your doorstep. It’s going to look…suspicious. Even if it was totally random. I swear I had no idea this was your house…had I known, I would have kept running.”

  “That would have been stupid.” I scoffed. I gently reached over with one hand and tipped her chin up so she was looking at me. “Had you kept running, they would have caught up to you, and you could have been seriously hurt.” I said this softly. I didn’t want her to regret coming to me, I didn’t want her to think that what was happening between us in this current moment was wrong. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and I was just trying to help.

  I’d do this for any of my students, I thought, ignoring the fact that my intentions were not completely innocent when it came to Harlow. Yes, I cared about her safety and well-being. I wanted to help her, to rescue her. But I also wanted to make her mine. I couldn’
t make her mine…but maybe I could help her.

  She frowned, dropping her gaze. I quickly released her hand, hoping that I hadn’t made her uncomfortable. I sighed, watching as she took a sip of the tea. Her hands were still shaking. I wanted to reach out and steady them, but I didn’t.

  “I promised the girl…” she finally said, shrugging again. “I can’t give away anything without involving her…and she doesn’t want to report it. As much as I don’t agree with her…it is her decision to make.”

  I quietly observed her for another minute, then sighed. She had a point. If the girl didn’t want to talk, she couldn’t force her…and Harlow’s accusation wouldn’t stand if the girl didn’t confirm.

  I made the grievous mistake of dropping my gaze to her lips. The silence we fell into was charged with sexual tension. I know she felt it. I could see it in her eyes and almost taste it in the air.

  “Okay, well. Let me drive you home then,” I said abruptly, standing up directly in front of her. I held out my hand and she took it.

  The seconds felt as if they were suspended in time as I gently pulled her up. She was closer to me than she’d ever been before. I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of jasmine and roses and her. I felt her breathe me in too. I still had her hand in mine. It felt so right that in that moment, I couldn’t even recall why it was wrong.

  I was a head taller than her, and I peered down at her as she tipped her head up to look at my face. Our lips were impossibly close. I wanted to close the distance between us and kiss her. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anybody before. It was cruel.

  She wanted me too. She involuntarily leaned into me, as if her body was pulled to mine the same way that my body was pulled to her. My cock twitched in response to her lips slowly parting and I closed my eyes, almost completely forgetting myself. I was about to lower my face to hers when the reality of it crashed into me. Inhaling sharply, I backed away and released her hand from mine.

  I couldn’t kiss her. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

  “Where do you live?” I asked, looking away from her as I clenched my jaw. I needed to be smart about this. My student had showed up on my doorstep for help…not a creepy come-on attempt.

  “Prince Edward Street,” she whispered, looking down. It was the most submissive I had ever seen her, and it angered me that it turned me on.

  You sick fuck, I thought as I turned away. I grabbed my car keys from the ledge near the door. I couldn’t look at her, because if I did, I didn’t know how much longer I could fight off my desire for her. I slipped into my coat, waiting as she picked up her bag and followed me out the door.

  * * *

  I avoided Harlow as best as I could for the remainder of the week. It was safer that way. I knew my urges for her weren’t right, and that she felt the same way. She was young, and impressionable. I had to keep telling myself that, and it was easy to remember when she wasn’t standing in front of me.

  When she was standing in front of me, it was a completely different story. My body completely forgot that she was young and impressionable. I almost forgot, and likely would have if our encounters weren’t in public places, like the classroom.

  On Saturday night, I was sitting on my couch watching the hockey game and drinking a beer, completely bored out of my fucking mind.

  I wasn’t paying any attention to the game. I was torturing myself with forbidden thoughts of Harlow. It seemed like any time I was left alone, thoughts of her completely consumed me. I couldn’t force her face from my mind…and trust me, I had tried.

  I’d gone out to the bar the night before. Tossed back a couple of beers and started talking to a pretty girl. She’d had long dark hair, and reminded me in an offhanded way of a muted version of Harlow’s beauty.

  She was wearing a short skirt and a low-cut top, her midriff exposed. She was a decent kisser, and her hands had a perpetual habit of traveling south.

  She’d been more than willing to come home with me. In fact…she damn near begged and I almost said yes, until I had realized that I was literally going to take her home and fuck her brains out because she was the closest I could get to what I really wanted, Harlow.

  Which explained why I was sitting at home, alone, on a Saturday night. Sexually frustrated and beyond the knowledge to remedy it. Spanking off to thoughts of Harlow hadn’t helped quench my thirst for her, it only made it worse.

  I should have just taken the pretty brunette up on her offer. I took another deep sip of my beer, trying to drown Harlow’s image out of my head. A firm knocking on my front door startled me. I wasn’t expecting anyone…I had nobody to expect.

  I got up, setting my beer down on the mantel before I walked to the door. I opened it, seeing the object of my desire and frustration standing on my front porch. I wasn’t shocked by her presence, I was almost expecting it. Yearning for it.

  Harlow was looking at me, the longing and intrigue evident on her face.

  “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” I demanded, sticking my head outside to make sure she hadn’t been followed. I knew she was alright from the glow of her skin. She didn’t look pale and panicked like she had the last time she had showed up on my doorstep. Her eyes were bright with desire and excitement, not horror and panic.

  Harlow’s hand came up to my chest, pushing me back inside. She came in with me, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the door, her chest rising and falling with the quick short breaths she was taking.

  “I’m getting a vibe from you,” she said. I stared at her, stunned.

  “A vibe?” I stuttered, drinking her in hungrily. I shook my head, trying to clear my racy thoughts. I ended up focusing at the wall beside her as I fought to control my expression. “I don’t—”

  “It’s alright. I’m not an idiot.” she rolled her eyes. “I know you want me.”

  “I—” my mouth opened and closed as I struggled to find something appropriate to say. My eyes shot back to hers, and I held her gaze, my thoughts running rapidly away from me. I wanted her, but she was my student. I took a deep breath.

  “I feel like I owe you an explanation,” I finally said, my voice low and intense as I continued to look at her. I shouldn’t tell, I shouldn’t give her any explanation. I should just tell that she was imagining things and send her on her way. I took three big steps away from her, but desire rolled in waves off of the both of us.

  “For what?” she challenged. “Almost kissing me?” I stared at her in astonishment. I hoped that she hadn’t picked up on my lax in judgment that day she’d appeared in my arms, sneaking refuge from her harassers. In the very least, I hadn’t expected her to call me out on it. I swallowed hard. She wouldn’t buy my lies, anyway. She knew, and there was no beating around the bush.

  “For wanting to,” I amended seriously. “For…still wanting to. You were…vulnerable, and you came to me for help…and I nearly took advantage of that. I’m not that kind of person.”

  I was angry about it, angry about my body’s reaction to her that day…and every day, really. Angry that I couldn’t even bring home a pretty girl, because I was so hung up on someone I couldn’t have. Shouldn’t, I amended…my breath hitching at the way she was looking at me. It was clear that I could have her.

  “No, you didn’t,” she said, trying to reassure me. It was strange that I was having this conversation with her, the conversation that I couldn’t take back. The words would forever hang between us. I had told my 17 year old student that I wanted to kiss her. “Trust me, I’ve been taken advantage of before, and that wasn’t even close. I wanted you to…” she said.

  “Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t,” I frowned, feeling all the more deviant about the whole thing. I didn’t want to be another guy that took advantage of her. The mere thought of that made me sick. I shook my head again, hoping to clear my thoughts. “I shouldn’t feel this way about you…about a student. It’s wrong.” I didn’t know whether I was talking to her, myself,
or the both of us.

  “Feel what?” she whispered.

  “Attraction, longing, desire, vulnerability…” I trailed off, realizing what I was saying. I hadn’t meant to be that blunt and honest with her. The words just exploded from my mouth. I frowned, angry at myself for telling her. My confession would only confuse her more and further complicate things.

  She took another step toward me as I watched her warily. She could completely destroy me, destroy the person that I thought I was…

  I didn’t even care.

  “I feel that way too,” she told me earnestly. “For the first time in a long time…I feel…alive. Awake.”

  She walked toward me and I gently grabbed the leather of her jacket, pulling her close to me yet holding her at a distance. I was a good head taller than her, so that she had to look up at me. I slowly lowered my face to hers. I didn’t kiss her, I just rested my forehead against hers and took a deep breath. Her scent was doing crazy things to my blood.

  She looked up at me, her eyes filled with yearning. It took seconds for the voice in my head shouting about how wrong this was to fall silent. I knew it was wrong, but it felt right. I pressed my lips against hers tentatively. She kissed me back, just as gentle and vulnerable as I had kissed her. I involuntarily moaned against the feel of her satin lips against mine. I couldn’t help but think about how incredible they would feel around my cock. I pulled away, returning my forehead to rest against hers, fighting to control all my urges.

  “Harlow…” my whisper was a weak plea. “I should take you home. This is wrong.” I massaged my temple with my left hand, my right hand still grasping the jacket.

  “How is it wrong, if it feels right?” she asked me, voicing my own treacherous thoughts. I smiled, almost pained. “You’re what, maybe seven years older than me? That’s not so bad.” I laughed softly.

  “More like 10,” I corrected, sighing. I frowned deeper, the number making me ill. I wasn’t this guy, I had never gone after a girl younger than me. I didn’t want to be the creepy teacher, and dammit…I was beginning to feel like the creepy teacher.

 

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