Page 78 of The Equation of Us
“It’s been seven days, thirteen hours, and—” I glance at my watch, “—twenty-two minutes since I last touched you properly.”
The blush deepens, spreading across her cheeks. “You’re counting?”
“I’m always counting.” I reach across the table, running my finger along the inside of her wrist where her pulse jumps beneath the skin. “Always calculating. Always wanting.”
Her breath catches, eyes darkening with an answering desire. “We’re supposed to be studying.”
“I’ve been studying you for seven days,” I say, my voice dropping lower. “Every expression. Every movement. Every sound you make when you’re trying not to react to me looking at you.”
“Dean…” Her voice holds a warning, but I can see the way her chest rises and falls more rapidly, the slight dilation of her pupils.
I stand, moving around the table until I’m beside her chair. She turns to face me, looking up with those clear, intelligent eyes that see straight through every defense I’ve built.
“Tell me to stop,” I say, “and I will.”
She doesn’t say anything, just watches as I reach behind me to lock the study room door. The soft click echoes in the quiet space.
“Someone could need this room,” she says, but there’s no conviction in her voice.
“I need this room.” I step closer, until she has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “I need you.”
“I missed you too,” she admits quietly.
It’s all the permission I need. I close the remaining distance, capturing her mouth with mine in a kiss that’s been building for seven endless days.
Her response is immediate, arms winding around my neck, body pressing closer.
I back her against the wall, hands finding her waist, then sliding lower to lift her. She wraps her legs around me instinctively, a small sound escaping her throat as I grind against her.
“We shouldn’t,” she gasps when I move to her neck, finding that sensitive spot beneath her ear. “Not here.”
“No one comes to this floor,” I murmur against her skin. “Not at this hour.”
Her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling slightly in the way she knows drives me crazy. “Still risky.”
I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”
She holds my gaze, considering. Then, “No.”
The single word unleashes something primal in me. I carry her to the table, sweeping our books aside with one arm before setting her down. Her legs stay wrapped around my waist, keeping me close as I reclaim her mouth.
I’m very aware that we haven’t fucked.
But now’s not the time.
Our kisses turn desperate. I tug at the hem of her sweater, needing to feel her skin under my hands.
As my fingers trace the soft skin of her waist, an idea forms—one that’s been playing at the edges of my mind.
I pull back slightly, studying her flushed face. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” Her answer comes without hesitation, sending a surge of something powerful through me.
I reach for my gym bag on the floor, retrieving my spare set of hockey laces. When Nora sees what I’m holding, her eyes widen in understanding.
“Here?” she asks, her voice pitched low.
“Here,” I confirm, running the laces through my fingers. “Unless you don’t want to.”
