Breaking Noah

by Missy Johnson

  Unable to control my laughter, I brace my hands on his shoulders and move to stand, only he stops me. His arms snake around my waist, pulling me closer to his body, and I lose all my senses and the situation is no longer funny. The air’s charged with so much tension, you’d need a sledgehammer to break through it.

  “Hey,” I whisper, raising my eyes to meet his.

  “Hi.” His arms tighten and his smile fades into a sly smirk. I slightly lean toward him and he matches my action. I feel his breath on my lips, his eyes casting down to watch as my tongue wets my bottom lip. I’m unable to pull away. I want to kiss him. Not just because it’s a part of my plan, but because I can’t think of anything else.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and softly tug on his hair. His fingers tangle in my long, knotted-from-dancing locks and pull my face the rest of the way to his. The moment our lips meet, the tension turns to passion. The sound of our kiss fills the room. I make the mistake of moving off his lap to better situate myself, and that gives him all the time he needs to change his mind.

  “I should get you home.”

  “Really?” I mutter, trying to get back to his lap.

  “Yeah. Grab your stuff.” He shifts me away from him and onto the cushion to his right. When he stands, he bends at the waist as if he’s trying to catch his breath and shuffles to the door, where he waits for me. Rolling my eyes, I slip on my shoes and grab my bag.

  “All right, Mr. Bain. Please take me home.” I slip past him and into the hallway, where I don’t wait for him to catch up. I wait at the car for him to unlock the doors and climb in as soon as he presses the button.

  Neither one of us talk on the short drive to my apartment. I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but it’s not the same tension as earlier. I’m pissed. I’ve never felt so rejected in my life. Sure, Dillon probably screws anything he can, but if I came on to him, he wouldn’t turn me down.

  He pulls up outside my apartment and I’m disappointed to see the lights are on inside. I hold back a laugh. What was I expecting, Dillon to not be there? Did I think Noah was going to take me back to his home and have his way with me?

  No. I’ve tried being subtle and it hasn’t worked. I have to make a decision: Either I play this slow and gain his trust or I work with what I know is there and build from it.

  Lust. Desire.

  The way his eyes roam over my body when he thinks I’m not looking. How his breathing speeds up when I step too close to him. And today, when I’d leaned over at his car window, he couldn’t keep his eyes off my breasts. I bite my lip. I have no doubt that he will be racing back home to fist his cock while he thinks about me.

  “Thanks for looking after me, Noah. I appreciate it.”

  As I say the words, I let my fingers slide up his thigh, over his jeans. His body tenses against my touch as my hand brushes over his very hard erection. I smirk at him and exit the car, not looking back as I strut up my driveway.

  If that doesn’t get his attention, nothing will.

  Chapter 10

  Noah

  Surely she didn’t just graze my dick. No. She did. Zara purposefully reached across the console and grazed her hand against my dick. Motherfucker. And I thought spying on her was going to be the most awkward morning-after moment. I should’ve never brought her back to my apartment.

  I’ve opened a can of worms I’m not sure that I can close…or want to close.

  The drive back to my apartment is quiet, but my subconscious is yelling at the highest volume possible. I know that even being alone with Zara is a violation of my duties as an educator, but I can’t help myself. I want to be with her. I enjoy her conversation and her outlook on life. It’s like she has it together more than most women my age, and that’s saying something.

  Stepping inside, Gio meets me, arching his back and rubbing his side on my leg. Reaching down, I give him a few scratches behind the ear and move into the bedroom, where I find Shannon sitting on the edge of the bed. Didn’t she tell me she’d be staying the night in Chicago with her sister? Why is she back? Never mind, don’t ask that question. All it will do is seem like you didn’t want her here and start a never-ending fight. I’m just thankful that Zara and I left when we did. Another few minutes and we would have been caught red-handed making out on my sofa. Silver lining.

  “How are the girls? Did you have a fun day?” I ask, not really wanting to engage in conversation, but if I don’t, I’ll probably be accused of not caring about her life. Which I don’t. But I can’t really voice that opinion, now, can I?

  Shannon looks up at me, her brown eyes full of unshed tears. Concern sets in. I might not be in love with her the way I was when we were younger, but she’s still someone who’s very important to me and I never want to see her upset. Stepping closer, I’m nearly between her parted legs when I look down and see her holding a leather strap in her hands.

  “I’m going to stay with Jennifer for a few days,” Shannon explains, raising the strap, which also brings a small leather bag into sight.

  “Is something wrong? What is it, Shannon?” I ask, unsure of what else to say. I know things haven’t been perfect lately, but I never expected for her to want to leave, at least not without a discussion or something. There has to be more to this. Did she see me with Zara? Does she know that I was a few steps from damaging our relationship for good?

  “She caught Jake cheating on her and she’s thinking about a divorce.” Shannon glances down at the bag, then back to me. Other than the moisture behind her lids, there’s no emotion on her face whatsoever. “I can’t believe he would do that to her. They started dating right around the same time we did. I thought he was a great man, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “Just remember, things aren’t always as they seem. Go help your friend and get her through this. Be there for her. That’s all you can do. I’ll try to call Jake this weekend and see if I can get anything from him.”

  “Hell, no, you’re not going to talk to that cheating bastard. He’s a fucking asshole who decided it was more important to fuck some college student than to take care of his wife. He’s fucking done with us. I’m going to help her pick up the pieces and then find an attorney that will take him for everything he has.” And we finally have an emotion: anger, and boy is she ready to fly off the handle.

  I rack my brain trying to think of anything I can say or do to defuse the situation, but I’m coming up empty-handed. Shannon’s right. I’m putting myself in Jake’s shoes; even though I haven’t cheated on Shannon, I’m as close as ever. I’m a piece of shit just like he is.

  “Okay, I won’t call him. I just want you to go into this levelheaded. Jennifer doesn’t need a lynch mob right now, she needs her best friend.”

  “And Jake needs his ass kicked and maybe to be sent to prison. The girl was a junior in college. Twenty-one years old. That’s fucking pathetic. He has a real woman at home, but he’s out screwing around with little girls. That’s like you fucking one of your students.”

  Every illicit thought I had running through my head since I saw Zara this morning plays back like a slideshow. To me, she’s basically like a child…with the body of a woman. A young woman who is entrusted to my care to educate her, mold her into a well-rounded adult, and I’ve taken advantage of that. Of course, I can’t say any of this to Shannon, but the guilt inside me is more than enough.

  “Shannon, I’d never have sex with a student. And I’m not excusing anything Jake did, but they were both adults. Keep in mind we’re only a few years older than that. It just seems wrong because she’s so damn young.”

  Shannon scoots off the bed, moves into the closet, and starts packing things in her overnight bag. She puts a few items of clothing inside and then makes a quick stop in the bathroom and packs even more. “I’m going to stay at the Hilton with Jenny until Jake gets all his shit out of their house. I’ll let you know what’s going on.”

  Without a kiss or hug, Shannon breezes past me and out the door. A few moments later, I hear her
car start and pull out of the lot. Looks like it’s just Gio and me for the night.

  A text comes through, and thinking it’s Shannon, I rush to answer it. But it’s not her. It’s the girl I shouldn’t be engaging with and yet I can’t stop.

  Zara: Are you still thinking about me?

  I muster the willpower to ignore the message and head straight to bed, but not after downing a few beers to keep my mind occupied with other things. Less dangerous things. Things that aren’t anything like Zara’s hand on my dick.

  —

  Thankfully, there are no classes until Wednesday because of midterms, and I don’t have to worry about addressing the issues between Zara and myself until then. I’m still unsure how all of that will pan out, but it’s going to have to be done…lines will have to be drawn. Firm lines. Ones that aren’t blurred and are easily distinguishable. Boundaries.

  Tuesday morning comes in with a call from Shannon. She informed me that she’s checked in to the hotel and Jake is supposed to be moving everything out by tomorrow evening and she doesn’t know when she’ll be home. At this point, I really don’t care. It’s not like we actually spend time together or have anything in common anymore.

  Instead of wallowing around the apartment, I shower quickly and head to the gym—the one place where there’s no judgment, just people who are looking for a workout and don’t want to be bothered. I’ll fit right in.

  As soon as I get into my car, I see a purse sitting on the passenger floorboard. Shit, Zara. If Shannon would have seen this, she would have lost her shit, especially with everything going on with Jenny and Jake. Maybe I’ll run it to her place or meet her somewhere—or most likely keep it until I see her in class later this week.

  Fuck, this girl’s going to be the end of me.

  My trip to the gym is short-lived. I pull into the parking lot and see that nearly every person in town decided that today would be the perfect time to get a workout in, and I’m not one for company. I need to be able to free my mind, which is why I usually go at night.

  While I think of a new plan of action, I walk to the diner across the street and take a seat at the counter. I borrow the sports section from the elderly man sitting next to me and wait for the waitress to take my order. I’m not a huge fan of the weekday paper, but it’s better than reading the menu over and over again.

  “Coffee. Cream, three sugars,” I say, when I see a shadow cast over my paper, knowing it has to be the waitress.

  Only the shadow never moves, it remains standing in front of me. Raising my line of sight a few inches, I’m met with a pair of breasts pushing out of the top of a V-neck tank top. A few more inches and my earlier thoughts are confirmed. The straight-as-an-arrow platinum-blond hair is the giveaway.

  Zara.

  “And look at that. I had you pegged for a black kind of guy,” she jokes, pouring the steaming coffee into the mug on the counter in front of me.

  “Usually, but today cream and sugar seem to be a good idea,” I say, unable to think any other coherent thought as I take the sugar bowl from her opposite hand. Keeping my attention on my cup, I add some cream then drop a few squares of sugar into the mug and swirl it around until the sweetener is dissolved.

  “So, are you stalking me again or is this pure coincidence?”

  “I had no idea you worked here. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

  “Nah, it’s cool. I actually don’t mind you being around. Do you want something to eat?” she asks seductively. I lick my lips at the thought of her arousal on my tongue, but then quickly dismiss the idea. This is wrong. So fucking wrong. Rules against student-teacher relationships are put in place for a reason. A reason long before I ever met Zara Hamilton. Rules that, if I violate them, could land my ass in hot water. Thinking of Jake and Jenny, and the shit they’re going through because he was screwing a college-age girl, I push all other thoughts out of my mind.

  “No, thanks. Can I get my coffee to go?”

  “Sure. Oh, before I forget, did I happen to leave my purse in your car yesterday? I can’t find it anywhere.”

  “It’s in my car. I’ll bring it back in for you.”

  “I’m due for a break. I’ll run out, if that’s cool.”

  I can’t speak, so I nod.

  Zara pours my coffee into a carryout cup while I dig in my pocket to leave a few bucks for the drink and a tip. Zara holds up a single finger, indicating for me to wait for her as she grabs her coat from the back. When I see her reemerge, I walk out the door, hoping to eliminate as much time alone with her as I can. Reaching into the car, I place my coffee in the cup holder and grab her purse from the floorboard.

  “I’m real sorry I left it behind. I guess I wasn’t thinking,” she says, taking the cool leather strap from my hand, letting her fingers brush across my skin, lighting a path of heat in their wake.

  “It’s no problem. I have to get going,” I say, taking a step back so we’re not standing so close together. She continues to saunter toward me, until I’m damn near flush against the car.

  Zara leans into me and my natural reaction is to push her away, only I get one hand on her hip and can’t do anything other than pull her closer, pressing my erection into her stomach. A soft moan escapes Zara’s lips and I’m so lost in the moment, I bring my lips to hers and softly kiss her.

  It’s exquisite. Unlike our first kiss, I don’t want this to end. I can’t bring myself to stop kissing and touching her. Her taste is unbelievably sweet, like she ate a sugar cube, and her petite body is pliable in my hands. So many things I could do to make her scream my name.

  Her lips are soft, yet demanding as I maneuver my tongue against the seam until she opens. Zara drops her bag and pushes both hands into my hair, pulling the strands and massaging my scalp at the same time. My palms quickly find the firm globes of her ass and drag her as close to me as possible.

  It’s amazing. Wrong? Right? Perfect? All of the above, probably.

  Suddenly, I hear slamming car doors in the distance and reality comes crashing back down on me. I’m her teacher and she’s my student. Shannon said it perfectly: She’s just a little girl. I’m taking advantage of her innocence.

  “I’m sorry, Zara,” I say, pulling back and pacing the parking lot.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I enjoyed it. I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” she says, walking up behind me and wrapping her tiny arms around my middle, attempting to push her hand down the front of my pants. The second our bare skin touches, I know I have to walk away or I’ll do something I’ll end up regretting for the rest of my life.

  “Have a good day, Ms. Hamilton,” I say, breaking free of her grasp, getting in my car, and speeding out of the lot.

  A few blocks away, I stop at a red light and repeatedly bash my hands against the steering wheel. If one word of this gets out, my career and relationship are over and my integrity is gone. I’ll be nothing…have nothing. All of my hard work for absolutely…nothing.

  Distance, Noah. Distance.

  Chapter 11

  Zara

  I hide a smile as I walk into the classroom and take my seat in the back row. He’s doing everything he can to pretend he hasn’t noticed me¸ but I know he has; the tremble of his hands, the way his jaw is twitching. God, he’s sweating. I bite my lip and snort.

  The girl next to me—Melanie, I think her name is, glances at me.

  “Sorry,” I murmur, blushing. “Just remembering a joke.”

  “You’re new in town, right?” she asks. I nod. “I’m Melanie.” She smiles at me and I smile back. I feel bad for the girl. I can tell from her mannerisms that she doesn’t hold much confidence. She sits hunched over her desk, hiding her body in a loose polo shirt and oversized jeans. I get the feeling she doesn’t have a lot of friends, so I make an effort to be nice.

  “Zara.” I smile. “I’m not completely new to the area,” I add, my tone friendly. “I hung out here a lot last year and the year before. My boyfriend lives here and graduated f
rom Evanston High and is a senior this year. He just got his own place and left the frat house. Thank God.”

  “Oh, cool.”

  Her eyes widen, like she’s impressed I’m dating a frat guy. I can’t imagine what she’d be like if I told her I’d kissed Mr. Bain. A few times.

  “If you need any help catching up on what you missed, let me know. I’m pretty good at making sure I stay organized for exams.” She pushes her wire-framed glasses back up on the bridge of her nose.

  I bet you are. A twinge of guilt hits me. She’s trying to be nice and I’m being a total bitch. I’ve been here now for weeks and it’s the first time we’ve spoken. I wonder if it’s because she’s shy or if I come off unapproachable. Either way, I’ve made myself feel bad for being a complete bitch, even if in my own head.

  “Thanks,” I say. “I might take you up on that.”

  I pretend to focus on the quiz he has just handed out, but instead my hand is under my desk, typing out a message to him. It’s risky, I know, but I want to see his face when he reads it. I want to watch him squirm.

  Me: You wanna know what I’m thinking? How hot it would be to meet you in your office after class. My lips are feeling a little lonely.

  I hit send and watch as his phone lights up. He reaches for it and reads my text, his eyes widening. He turns his phone off and shoves it into his briefcase before glowering at me. I don’t bother to hide my smile. God, this is too fucking easy.

  —

  After class, I busy myself with carefully packing my books into my bag so that when I finally stand, I’m the only student left in the room. Noah looks up. He sighs as his eyes meet mine. I wander over to his desk, brushing my hair over my shoulder.

  I walk around the front of his desk and sit. His eyes fall on my thighs, which are dangerously close to touching his leg. He stands up and smooths his hair. I love seeing him so worked up, although I wish he’d just drop it with this nice-teacher routine. I know he wants me, and even though my plan isn’t to fall for him, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him, too.