Noah
I can't concentrate on the lecture I'm supposed to be giving about the Civil War. My mind keeps drifting back to the way Mia's lips felt against mine, when we were standing outside the coffee shop, all soft and hesitant and perfect. I stumble over a date, and my students exchange confused glances.
"Sorry," I mutter, adjusting my glasses. "Let's pick this up tomorrow."
The bell rings and students file out, chattering about weekend plans.
Today is a half day, so the kids are extra excited.
Gathering the papers strewed across my desk, I shuffle them together and tidy my desk.
Narrowing my eyes, I look at the stack of quizzes the students took earlier.
I should sit here and grade them, but it's Friday and I want to go home.
Which is worrisome since I enjoy being at school and am never eager to leave.
I step into the hallway and there she is. Mia. The reason why I'm in such a hurry to leave campus.
Mia walks toward me carrying a stack of books, her dark hair falling past her shoulders in waves that make my fingers itch to touch.
She's wearing a simple blue dress that hugs her curves in all the right places, and I can't help but notice how the fabric clings to her full breasts, how it shows off her legs. God, those legs.
Our eyes meet and I watch color flood her cheeks. She remembers the kiss too.
"Hey," I say, my voice coming out a little rougher than I intended. I clear my throat.
"Hi." She shifts the books in her arms, and the movement draws my attention to the way her dress stretches across her chest. I force my eyes back to her face.
"Can we talk?" I ask. "Maybe take a walk during lunch? We could discuss curriculum planning, coordinate some units between English and History."
It's a flimsy excuse and we both know it. But Mia nods anyway.
"That sounds good. Professional development and all that."
The corner of her mouth quirks up in a small smile that makes my heart do something stupid in my chest.
"Meet you in the parking lot in twenty? I just need to put these books in my classroom." She asks, nodding toward her armful of books.
"I'll be there."
She walks away and I definitely don't watch the sway of her hips or the way her dress shows off her firm ass.
When I finally tear my gaze away, I catch Blake Morgan watching me from down the hall.
The football coach's expression is unreadable, but something in his eyes makes my stomach tighten with unease.
Twenty minutes drag by with excruciating slowness, but eventually Mia comes back out to the parking lot, her face tilted up to catch the sun. The light makes her skin glow and highlights the blue of her eyes.
"Ready?" I ask.
"As I'll ever be."
We drive separately to Riverside Nature Trail, a winding path through dense woods about ten minutes from school.
It's a weekday, so the parking lot is nearly empty.
Just a few cars belonging to retirees and stay-at-home parents getting their exercise.
The kids will start showing up when the sun goes down.
I meet Mia at the trailhead and we start walking side by side, careful not to touch. The silence stretches between us, heavy with everything unsaid.
"So," Mia finally says. "Curriculum planning."
I laugh. "Right. Very important stuff."
"Extremely important." Her lips twitch. "We should probably coordinate our units on the American Revolution. Make sure we're hitting the same themes."
"Absolutely. Can't have the students getting confused about whether the British were the good guys or the bad guys."
"That would be tragic."
We walk a bit further, the pretense crumbling with each step. Finally, I stop and turn to face her.
"Mia, I can't stop thinking about you."
She looks up at me, her blue eyes wide and vulnerable. “Noah—"
"I know, it's complicated," I interrupt.
"I barely know you," she whispers, but she doesn't step back.
"You know me in the most biblical sense." I'm trying for a teasing remark, but her face flushes with color and she glances away.
Shit. I'm trying to pull her in closer, not push her away.
I reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her soft skin. "I've never felt this way about anyone so quickly," I admit.
Her breath catches. "You make me feel safe. Like I can breathe for the first time in years."
"Then breathe with me." I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing her cheekbones. "Let yourself feel this."
"I'm terrified," she admits, her voice breaking.
"Me too." I lean down until our foreheads touch. "But I'd rather be terrified with you than safe without you."
She makes a sound that's half laugh, half sob, and then she's kissing me. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground.
The kiss is desperate and hungry. My tongue slides against hers and she moans into my mouth, the sound going straight to my cock. When she reaches up and threads her fingers through my hair, I have to break the kiss.
"Noah," she gasps. "We shouldn't. Not here."
"I know." But I'm already walking her backward off the trail, into the trees where the undergrowth provides cover. A spot I noticed an instant before we started kissing.
I press her against a large oak tree, my mouth finding her neck. My hands slide down her sides, feeling the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips.
"Here?" she gasps, but she doesn't back away. No, in fact she presses her luscious body harder against mine, so close her breasts are smashed against my chest. And I love every second of it.
"I've been thinking about touching you like this," I mutter as I kiss a hot path down her neck and collarbone.
One hand slips down to cup her ass while the other works on the buttons down the front of her dress. I don't unbutton all of them, just enough so that I can plunge my hand inside, beneath her bra, until I'm cupping a firm, warm breast.
"... and this," I say gruffly. My finger and thumb tweak her nipple as I trail wet, hot kisses back up her neck and nibble on her earlobe.
Pressing against her, I pull her closer. So close there's no way she can miss my hard-on pressing against her lower belly. "And especially like this."
"Oh God," she cries out softly and arches into my touch.
"Not God. Noah," I tease and nip along her chin until I reach her mouth. "But thanks for the compliment."
She blinks owlishly at me for a second, then starts to laugh, but the minute she opens her mouth, I slide my tongue inside.
Removing my fingers from her breast causes a moan to escape her lips, but it's soon replaced with a pleasant gasp when I slide my fingers up her thigh, grip the waistband with my thumb, and pull them down to her ankles.
She quickly steps out of one side, leaving her panties around one slender ankle.
I shake my head at her and lift her leg, removing the underwear. I pocket them with a grin that makes her blush.
"Souvenir," I explain, and she laughs breathlessly.
I free myself from my pants and lift her slightly, positioning her against the tree. Our eyes meet and hold as I push inside her slowly, careful not to let the bark scratch her back.
She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. "Oh yes."
I start to move, slow at first, savoring every inch. But Mia's nails dig into my shoulders, and she whispers, "Harder," and my control snaps.
I thrust into her with desperate urgency, the tree bark scraping against my knuckles where I brace myself and protect her back. She buries her face in my neck to muffle her cries, her body clenching around me with each stroke. Her little teeth nip at my neck, driving me wild.
"Noah, I'm close." Her voice is high and breathless. "So close."
I shift the angle slightly and she shatters, her inner muscles pulsing around me. The sensation pushes me over the edge and I follow her with a groan, burying myself deep as pleasure crashes through me.
We stay tangled together for a long moment, both breathing hard. Finally, I lower her gently to the ground and we straighten our clothes in awkward silence.
"That was..." Mia trails off, her cheeks flushed.
"Yeah." I adjust my glasses, which somehow stayed on through everything. "It was."
She laughs and the sound eases some of the tension. "We should probably get back before someone notices we're both gone."
"Probably." But I pull her close for one more kiss, soft and lingering. "I meant what I said, Mia. This means something to me."
"It means something to me too," she admits quietly. "That's what scares me."
We drive back separately. I head to my classroom—might as well get those quizzes graded—while Mia disappears toward the English wing. My body still hums with satisfaction, but my mind is already spinning with complications.
The afternoon assembly about upcoming school events—the reason school was only half a day today—feels interminable.
I sit with the other teachers in the auditorium while Principal Lewis drones on about the fall fundraiser and parent-teacher conferences.
My eyes keep drifting to where Mia sits three rows ahead, her dark hair catching the overhead lights.
I lean forward slightly, my eyes narrowing. Is that a piece of bark in her hair? A smile splits across my face and I lean back, only to realize I'm not the only one watching her.
Jack Lewis stands at the podium, ostensibly addressing the entire faculty, but his gaze keeps returning to Mia with an intensity that makes my look at him a little closer. It's not the professional attention of a principal monitoring his staff. It's something darker, more possessive.
Then I notice Blake Morgan sitting across the aisle. The football coach's eyes are also fixed on Mia, his expression thoughtful and hungry. He shifts in his seat, and I watch his gaze travel down her body, lingering on her legs crossed at the ankle.
I'm not the only man interested in Mia Wilson.
As if sensing my attention, Blake's eyes flick to mine. We stare at each other for a long moment, recognition passing between us. Then his gaze shifts to Jack at the podium, and I follow his line of sight.
Jack has stopped talking mid-sentence, his attention caught by the silent exchange between Blake and me. His jaw tightens and his hazel eyes narrow as he looks from Blake to me, then to Mia, who remains oblivious to the tension crackling through the auditorium.
The three of us lock eyes across the crowded room. Blake's expression is challenging. Jack's is territorial. And I feel my own possessiveness rising to match theirs.
This isn't just attraction. This is competition.
The assembly ends and teachers file out, chattering about the upcoming events. I stay seated, my mind racing. The way Jack looked at Mia wasn't casual interest. The way Blake watched her wasn't innocent appreciation. They both want her.
And based on the flush in Mia's cheeks when she glanced at Jack, based on the way she smiled at something Blake said in the hallway this morning, I have the sinking suspicion that their interest isn't one-sided.
I think about the secrets Mia carries, the way she deflects personal questions, the guilt that shadows her eyes. I think about her returning to Riverside after ten years away, about her father's illness, about the complicated situation she mentioned but won't explain.
I have the unsettling feeling that there's more to their looks at Mia than just desire. What kind of mess have I stumbled into?