Wicked Desires (Terlizzis #2)
1. Lucia
1
LUCIA
V iolent thunder rips me from my thoughts, my body jolting towards the window like a marionette on strings. The sky is momentarily illuminated by blinding lightning before unleashing another explosive boom that rattles the windows in their frames. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I watch bolts of electricity dance across the darkened sky, feeling small and insignificant against the power of Mother Nature.
“I hate summer storms,” I grumble as I adhere the last thumbtack to my pinboard.
Stepping back, I survey the masterpiece before me. My head tilts to one side as I take in the 6-foot by 4-foot corkboard from a different angle. The border is a deep, midnight black, providing a striking contrast to the once-brown interior surface now adorned with a collage of dark green, shapely cutouts. The arrangement perfectly complements the rest of the classroom.
I’m fully immersing myself in the dark academia aesthetic this school year. The plastic chairs are a deep, soothing shade of forest green, a feat that took wheeling and dealing with other teachers to procure. The tables, crafted from the darkest wood found hidden away in the storeroom, add a sense of weight and warmth to the room. Delicate plastic vines of vinca flowers adorn the walls, their leaves cascading down as if slowly overtaking the room. My carefully curated quotes, written on heavy-duty paper in bold letters, provide a bright contrast against the otherwise foreboding atmosphere. And tucked away in one corner of the room, where the students can lounge during designated reading time, sits a plush green couch scattered with elegant black throw pillows, inviting students to unwind and lose themselves in the pages of their books. My classroom is not a traditional learning space but a sanctuary tailored to provide comfort and calmness for my students.
“This is nice.”
My heart jolts in surprise when I hear his voice, too familiar yet always unexpected. He appears suddenly in the doorway, and I recoil, my body tense with fear and uncertainty at his presence. “What the fuck, Saverio.” With a quick, graceful turn, I pivot to face him. My hand instinctively flies to my chest, feeling the rapid thumping of my heart against my palm. “I see you still have both hands intact, so I’m assuming you forgot how to knock.”
I check my watch; the time reads 6:22 pm. Surprised by the time, I realize several hours have passed since I arrived. I got to my classroom just after lunch to put up my decorations before heading home to make a lasagna for dinner. But it’s too late for lasagna now. By the time I get home, prep it, and cook it, it’ll be past eight before I eat.
“The door was open. You wanted me to knock on an open door?”
I squint at him, my eyes narrowing to thin slits before I march over to my desk. “That’s not the point,” I huff, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s a matter of respect and courtesy to announce one’s presence rather than sneak up on them.”
Saverio’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and the gesture sends a flutter of butterflies swirling in my stomach. His voice is smooth and apologetic, with just a hint of an accent that makes my heart race. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”
My classroom, usually a place of comfort and familiarity, suddenly feels foreign and unwelcoming with his presence. I flit from my desk to the wall to fuss with a poster. Saverio’s presence is like a dark cloud looming over me, making it hard to concentrate on anything but him. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
He holds up his phone as if that answers my question. “You weren’t at home,” he adds a moment later in a nonchalant tone.
“Stop tracking me,” I reply peevishly.
“You’re the one that shared your location with me, Dandelion.” His voice is laced with amusement as he smiles.
Straightening my posture and standing with my hands planted firmly on my hips, I shoot him the same stern, disapproving look that I reserve for my misbehaving second-grade students. “You said I had to.”
“You could have said no,” he shrugs.
My mouth falls open in shock and disbelief. I can’t believe I let myself get tangled up with this man. Part of me hates him for the mess he’s brought into my life, but another part can’t help but be drawn to him. “You said I could either share my location with you willingly or you’d hold me down and put a tracker in the back of my neck.”
Saverio nods his head. “And then you shared your location with me. Willingly , as you so eloquently put it.”
Trying to reason with Saverio is like trying to reason with a brick wall. “When you saw I was at the school, you knew I was working. Why did you drive all the way here?”
“There’s a storm,” he nods towards the window, his voice barely audible over the sound of rain suddenly thundering against the glass. “I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
Bullshit. A tornado almost touched down in spring, and he didn’t even text me to ask if I was okay, let alone show up to give me an armed escort home. “It’s just a little rain, Saverio. As you can see, I’m fine . You can leave now,” I rudely reply.
But instead of leaving, Saverio slowly and deliberately closes the door. The soft click of the latch echoes through the room, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart flutters in response, unable to control its reaction to his subtle yet powerful gesture. “I don’t think so, Dandelion.” As he closes the gap between us, my chest tightens, and my breath comes in shallow, rapid bursts. “I’ve always wanted to fuck in a classroom. My sixth-grade teacher was hot, but she was nothing compared to you, beautiful.”
“Stop it, Saverio.” But there is no conviction in my words, and we both know it.
I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck as he wraps his strong arms around my waist, pulling me into him. His hands roam freely over my body, their touch igniting desire within me. “Tell me, Dandelion,” he whispers in my ear. “Are you on birth control?”