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Dominic
Something about knowing he had a reason to see Lula put Dom in the best of moods the next morning. She’d been most accommodating in his dreams and it had left him feeling deliciously rested.
He whistled his way through the morning, drawing curious glances from students who were clearly alarmed at the lightness of his mood while discussing the French Revolution. But he couldn’t help it.
He had settled on approaching her after school, that way they wouldn’t be hindered by any pesky bells or classes starting, but it was difficult to make it through the day without crawling out of his skin. At lunch, Chaz had just assumed he had gotten laid and he didn’t deny it, because it was far simpler than explaining whatever it was he was up to.
He found himself waiting just outside her door while the last of her students filed out at the end of the day. He smiled as the scent of her perfume drifted toward him; it was cinnamon and vanilla, like freshly baked cinnamon rolls. His body reacted strongly to it.
He had to clear his throat to keep from becoming a caveman, throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to his lair.
“Oh, hey, Mr. Adams,” a freshman from his third hour greeted him as he left her classroom.
“Hey, what’s up, Michael, good day?”
He shrugged. “It’s over, so that’s good, right?”
“Depends. How are your math grades?”
He pulled a face.
“That’s what I thought. Guess your day isn’t over after all.”
He groaned. “You’re going to make me go to tutoring, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Need me to walk you?”
“Nah,” he muttered, “I’ll go.” He trudged away.
“Don’t think I won’t check on you!” he called after him. Michael lifted a weak hand in acknowledgment and headed down the hall. He was a good kid, but he needed someone to make him toe the line. Dom was happy to step into that role, and he watched him walk away until he was sure he turned down the math hall.
Lula was sitting at her desk scribbling on some papers when he finally entered. The light from the window behind her illuminated the hairs that had fallen around her face. She was lovely and absolutely unaware of his presence. He considered just staring at her for a while but realized he was being a creep so he knocked lightly on the door. “Miss Stanley?”
Her head whipped toward him—she was a rush of pink cheeks and flashing eyes. She was stunning. Her mouth opened and closed before she finally said, “Um. Hi?”
He grinned. “Hi, are you busy?”
Her gaze narrowed but he could feel the heat radiating from her. It was palpable. “Yes.”
He entered her room, grabbed a chair, pulled it up to her desk, and sat so he was facing her. “Me too,” he answered easily, enjoying the irritated flare of her nose. “But I thought we should discuss Literature Club. I’m new at it and I want to make sure I understand my role.”
“Right.” She sighed and set her pen down. Folding her hands together she looked him right in the eye. The connection made his gut contract. “You’re really going to do this?”
He grinned. “I’m really going to do this.”
She let out the most laborious sigh he’d ever heard. “Fine.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I’ve run the Lit Club for the last three years with Mrs. Gresham. Now that she’s retired I need someone to help me organize and supervise meetings and events.”
“And now you have me,” he said, easing back in the seat, grinning.
“I’m thrilled,” she intoned.
He smirked. “I’m going to pretend you meant that.”
“Do what you want,” she said with a dismissive flutter of her hand.
He laughed and grinned when the sound made a sweet blush climb her neck and spread across her cheeks. He had to shift in his seat. He could sense her thoughts going in the very same directions as his. They were not chaste. He briefly wondered what she would do if he did exactly what he wanted to do.
“Anyway,” she continued after a telling swallow, “the club meets in here starting next Tuesday after school. We meet until about 4:30 unless we’re watching a movie, sometimes they go longer.”
That’s what he was hoping for, just the two of them, the lights off, the door locked, as long as possible ... “So, that’s it, I just show up and ...?”
“You’ll also need to read whatever we are. Be ready to discuss plot, characters, writing styles, political themes.” She eyed him. “I would expect you to contribute to conversations. Are you sure you’re not too busy for that?”
He grinned. “Oh, I think I can find the time. And let me know if you need to meet to discuss ideas or projects. I’ll make time for you.”
She blinked at the emphasis he put on the word “you,” but didn’t argue. He was going to consider that a win.
“I’ll put some ideas together for you by tomorrow, how does that sound?”
She shook her head. “You really don’t need to do that.”
“I know,” he answered and leaned forward, “but I really, really want to.”
When her pink lips parted, he ached to climb over the desk and kiss her senseless. Instead, he leaned back in his seat and put his hands on his knees. “So, is that all for today?”
“You came to me,” she pointed out.
“Yes, I did.”
“Ugh. Yes, that’s it. Please leave.” She made a shooing motion toward the door. “Go.”
He got up with a chuckle and put the chair back where he found it. He was very much looking forward to being in this room again with her very soon. Hopefully next time he could figure out a way to explore that buzz that seemed to stretch between them.
When he turned around he caught her shimmying in her seat as if she had been sharing similar thoughts. With his widest grin he told her, “See you tomorrow, Lu.”
“Only my friends call me that,” she corrected.
He ignored her and left her sitting at her desk with a scowl.
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Lula
Groaning, Lula dropped her head to her desk. Why was he doing this?
And why did he have to look so good doing it? The second he sat down in front of her, she’d pictured him kneeling between her legs to do some not very school-appropriate things. She pressed her thighs together.
She needed to get out of this, find some reason it wouldn’t work, cancel the club, leave the country. There were a thousand ways to escape.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head. No, she could do this, she had to, Kaylee would kill her if she cut the club, and there were better ways to handle him. She would just have to make his role in the club as uncomfortable as possible. Squeeze him out, make him give up.
The last few nights had been replete with erotic dreams featuring Dominic Adams, who turned out to be a singularly fantastic star. Her unconscious had taken them to places she hadn’t even imagined in real life and all she had thought about all day was him bending her over her desk with his hand fisted in her hair.
When he appeared in her doorway minutes ago, she had to physically push away thoughts of peeling off his casually sinful button-up shirt. Just the way his broad shoulders tapered to his waist made her want to climb him like a tree. She was in very deep trouble.
To clear her head, she opened up the browser on her laptop and started searching for lists of Chicago University Alumni.
“Focus, Lu,” she whispered as she drummed her fingers on the keyboard.
The only thing she knew about her mother and father’s relationship was that they met in her mother’s senior year of college and she had graduated pregnant and alone.
Searching for a Joe that graduated around that time seemed a bit of a stretch. She wasn’t even sure if he had graduated at all, but it was a place to start, and that was more than she had two days ago.
An hour later, with no promising leads, she slammed the laptop closed with an exasperated sigh and left for home.