Page 20 of Manhattan Secret

Does this intimidation act of his work on other teachers, I wonder?

“Whatever you’re doing, Mister Fierro. Stop.” I inform firmly, coming around my desk in hopes of putting distance between us.

I want to ask how he knew who I was before he came into my classroom. Did he know who I was yesterday? Impossible. Going to that bar had been born from a bored whim and avoiding unpacking.

He moves then. A smooth relocation of his bones as he comes at me and keeps coming at me, and god help me, it’s instinctual as I back up until my butt hits the desk edge. He stops a mere inch in front of me. My breath is erratic, no point in trying to hide it, I have much bigger problems…chiefly the one standing in front of me. I’m nearly crawling out of my skin with worry and slightly pissed off that this man-boy thinks to intimidate me.

Cali would say to tell him to go fuck himself if he thinks he’s blackmailing me. His word against mine, I remind myself.

I angle my head back with a glare.

Daring him to say what he’s so dying to say if his little smile is anything to go by.

He doesn’t do anything other than standing there like a great big tall thing with his hands pushed deep into his jacket pockets.

I’m in no danger of being grabbed, yet my entire frame is in fight or flee mode.

He’s so close I smell the fresh cotton scent of his clothes and the lemony fragrance of a cologne and it divebombs my memory into how he smelled last night and oh,god, stop,for the love of my whole fricking life, I need to stop that.

Up close, every nuance of changing color in his blue eyes stands out against his tanned skin. Up close I see how utterly devastatingly handsome this boy is and all of my stomach clenches to reaffirm just what dirty things he and I had done mere hours ago.

Truthfully, I don’t know if I want to cry or pounce on him.

“It’s nice seeing you again, little mouse.” A smile, brighter than hell itself flickers across that god made face, before he turns and heads for the door.

I don’t breathe again until he’s strode his big body through it, but not before he drifts his head to the side, curiously watching me and then he winks.

Oh.

My.

God.

He’s so going to make me his next meal.

This young guy who I shared something so intimate andwrongwith, is going to devour me whole.

This is bad, Delaney. So bad.

How could I have let this happen?

What do I do now?

What trouble am in?

And right on the back of those stellar questions comes a real, stark truth.

How can I be so attracted to the arrogant little shit who may or may not want to intimidate me?

Not one answer floats through my mind for the rest of the day.

I only know I race for my car like my ass is on fire just as soon as the last bell rings.

These kids with their big fancy cars and more money than Satan are a cut above the rest. The materialistic stuff affords them status and prestige. It gives them a sense of power and kids with power are a very dangerous breed.

Especially against someone like me who only wants to do my job and live my life.

Through many faults and stupid life decision making choices of mine, I’m now irreversibly entangled with one of those power mad kids.

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