He'd had to reject her subtle come-on, but he hadn't liked hurting her. Even after she had graduated and she was out of his life, he'd thought about her, wondering if she was still hurting. And he'd also thought long and hard about whether or not he had in some way led Amani on.
Not intentionally, but in a way she could have easily misconstrued given her age. He had come to the realization that it was his reaching out to her in her time of grief over the loss of her mother that had ignited her attraction for him. He had been there for her as he had routinely been there for all his students. But he'd been able to connect with Amani on a deeper level because he'd also lost his mother at a young age, and had been able to offer her the kind of comfort she needed at the time.
Right after that, she had started looking at him differently in class. With a doe-eyed expression that said she was infatuated with him.
There had never been any hope for a relationship with them.
He had been ten years her senior and her teacher. Besides, he had been married.
But he wasn't married any longer. His wife had left him for a rich man, something he would never be as a teacher.
Aaron blew out a sharp breath as he leaned forward. Why was he even thinking of the fact that he was single?
Because it had been way too long since he'd been with a woman. And there was no doubt that Amani was now a woman, and as such, he could appreciate her beauty and not feel any guilt.
Closing his eyes, he envisioned her the first time he'd seen her at her cafe. Flawless, light brown skin, and full, luscious lips. And with curves in all the right places, she looked good enough to eat.
Would she like that? he wondered. A man tasting her nectar?
Aaron felt the beginning of an erection, and was shocked that his thoughts had led him to this state. After all, he was thinking about Amani, his former student.
Former student and totally gorgeous woman.
So much for changing the direction of his thoughts.
Aaron stood and walked to the window. Resting his butt on the window's ledge, he stared out at the dark night and the string of streetlights that lined the sidewalk. “Think about. . . being castrated.”
He actually had to laugh at the ridiculous sentiment, although it did the trick. Thank God. He didn't need an erection when Amani came into the room. Without thinking of her tempting body, he could remember the most important issue. He wanted to see her writing again, which was why he'd come up with this challenge.
She was the one student he had never forgotten, the one he had influenced the most. And he wanted to right the wrong that had been done.
When he heard the soft rapping on his door, he jumped off the ledge and vaulted forward, colliding with a desk as he did. His heart rate doubled when Amani walked through the door.
Oh, man.
The sight of her literally knocked the breath from his lungs. He knew she was beautiful when he'd seen her at the cafe, but now she looked stunning. Wearing a hip-length red leather jacket and tight black jeans, she looked good enough to serve up as an entree at a fine dining establishment.
His groin tightened with the thought. Both the erotic thought and the pull of an erection were surprises, considering he'd chastised himself only moments before for letting his thoughts veer down the wrong road.
But how could he not be affected by Amani? She was a full- fledged woman now. One who liked to dress like a woman, flaunting her magnificent body. His ex-wife, Sandra, had hidden her sexual side.
Why didn't Amani have a boyfriend? She'd mentioned an ex- husband. He wondered what kind of man would leave her other than an idiot.
People had said the same thing to Sandra all the time. Why would you leave a man like Aaron? The way she'd painted him out to people in her reply, they thought he was some sort of first-rate asshole. In reality, he had let Sandra have her own way with practically everything in the marriage, up to and including the decision not to have children. He knew her real issue was that he hadn't made enough money for her liking, even though he made a good salary.
Forget Sandra. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he forced a smile. “Amani, hi.”
She grinned back at him. “I'm here,” she said.
"A little later than I expected, but better late than never. Thank you for keeping your word.”
"You didn't give me much choice.”
"For your own good, I assure you.”
She stripped off her leather jacket. Beneath it, she wore a form-fitting white cotton shirt that hugged her beautiful curves. How long had it been since Aaron had touched curves like that?
"I didn't ask,” she said, “but is this class going to cost me anything?”
"Nope.”
She started toward him. “What do you need me to sign?”
Not only did she look good, she smelled good. Like roses. The scent was intoxicating.
Aaron lifted a clipboard with a form on it off his desk and handed it to her. “Fill this out. I'll bring it to the office later.”
She took a seat at the desk directly in front of his. As she wrote, Aaron watched her. There was something magnetic about her. Something utterly sexy that seemed to come naturally.
"Here,” she said after a few minutes.
He took the clipboard, glancing at the form but not really seeing it. “I'm glad you came,” he told her. If he inspired her to write again, then this would all be worth it.
"I hope your wife doesn't mind that I borrow you for a few hours next Saturday.”
"She won't mind. Since she doesn't exist.” “Oh?”
Amani's tone said she wasn't surprised. No doubt, she had seen the absence of a ring on his left hand. “I've been divorced for six years. It's a long, ugly story.”
"Ah, you have one of those, too.”
Aaron simply nodded.
Amani's beautiful lips parted, like she was going to say something else, but the sound of footfalls made her turn instead. As a woman wandered into the classroom, Amani said, “I guess I'd better take a seat. Anywhere okay?”
"I know the last seat on the far right row is available." But that's so far away. . .
As Amani gathered her belongings, Aaron couldn't help checking out her incredible form once again. She had certainly rounded out since high school. Her behind was fuller, more womanly. Her breasts were definitely heavier. She had the perfect hourglass figure, and knew she would look magnificent naked.
His eyes lingered on her backside as she bent over the desk to offload her belongings.
Shit, he thought when he felt his growing erection. This time, he wasn't able to make it stop from becoming full and hard. Quickly lowering the clipboard to cover his groin, he made his way behind the desk.
It was going to be a long three hours.
Amani reread what she'd written, then scrunched the three pages into a ball, stuffing the giant wad into her desk.
Why, oh why had she agreed to take this class? Writing was torture. She had known that years ago, and nothing had changed.
Aaron had instructed the class to write about any topic they liked—as long as it was about a deeply personal subject. Like the loss of a pet, he'd suggested. Or the loss of a lover.
Amani had written about Carl, about how his betrayal had devastated her. She had tapped into her deepest emotions and spilled them forth onto the page. The piece was raw, poignant. And surprisingly cathartic.
But much, much too personal.
If there was one thing she'd learned after writing that personal piece about her feelings for Aaron, it was that she didn't want anyone to ever be able to see so far into her soul.
She fiddled with her pen. She could write about... about what? About the time her goldfish had died when she was six years old. A smile touched her lips. That would work, and she wouldn't give away too much of herself in the process.
She put her pen to paper, recalling that tragic day so long ago.
At the end of the three-hour class, Aaron stood and announced, “That's it, f
olks. Time's up.”
There were a few groans, and some people didn't stop writing, clearly needing more time to get their thoughts down on paper. Amani, on the other hand, put her name on tops of her pages and numbered them. Then, satisfied with herself, she collected them. She walked up to Aaron and handed him her story.
A shiver of excitement danced down Amani's spine at the grin he gave her, and she knew she would sec Aaron again tonight, in her dreams. There was something about him that held her captive, plain and simple.
"There you go,” she said.
"Can't wait to read it,” he told her.
Other students also made their way to the front of the class, and Aaron gave his attention to them.
Amani wanted to stay, but what would be the point? So she could ogle him and make a fool of herself?
"See you next week,” she told him.
"Sure thing,” he replied.
Amani lifted her hand in a wave, then went back to her desk. She gathered her belongings and made her way to the door. Before exiting, she glanced over her shoulder.
A sweet sensation passed through her when she saw that Aaron was looking at her.
5
.
When Aaron handed the marked assignments back to the class the following week, Amani saw red.
A big red D, that is. Circled at the top of her page.
A D? Amani stared at the mark with disbelief, sure her eyes were playing some cruel trick on her. But the D didn't morph into an A or a B.
She tucked the story into her binder and slammed it closed. Aaron had the nerve to stroke her ego by telling her how good a writer she was, then reward her with a D.
Anger brewing inside her, Amani gathered her belongings in haste. Screw Aaron and screw this course. She didn't have time for this. She needed to hire and train a new person, something she'd be able to do much better if she didn't have the distraction of Aaron and this class hanging over her head.
She was at the classroom door when she heard, “Amani, can you wait a moment? I need to talk to you.”
Amani was tempted to charge through the door without looking back, the wedding be damned. She'd go alone, or she'd stay at home and hope her cousin forgave her. The last thing she wanted to do now was go with Aaron. She'd thought that he had humiliated her back in high school with his “You're too young for me” talk, but this D took the cake.
She took another step toward the door, but halted when she heard him call her name again. Sighing with resignation, she slowly turned around.
Other students filed out past her. Slipping into her leather jacket, Amani moved to the wall. She stood there until the last of the students had left.
Aaron's lips twisted in a frown as his gaze met hers from across the room. “Will you come up here, please?”
Scowling, Amani shoved herself off the wall with the heel of her boot. Although she didn't want to, she headed to the front of the class to deal with Aaron. She may as well get this over with as soon as possible.
"Take a seat,” he told her.
"Why? So you can tell me how great a writer I am?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Aaron leaned his butt against his desk. “You can't tell me you're surprised at your mark.”
"Oh, God.” Amani whirled on her heel.
"Wait.”
Aaron's voice stopped her cold. There was a vulnerable tone in his voice, making it all but impossible to walk away from him.
But she steeled her jaw as she faced him again, asking, “Why should I?”
"So we can talk. About your story.”
"What's to talk about? You obviously hated it.”
Aaron pursed his lips, clearly thinking about what he was going to say. “I think you missed the point of the assignment.”
"You said to write about something that was personal. The death of Pinky was very personal to me.”
"And that's the key word. Was. The death of your goldfish was personal when you were six, but it surely isn't now. Not that it couldn't be, mind you,” Aaron added, holding up a hand, “but there wasn't one hint of emotion in your story.”
"I don't see why that matters—”
"If you're going to do this—be in my class—don't hide behind a curtain. Show me what you're made of.”
"Taking this class wasn't my idea.”
"I know. It was mine. But you accepted my challenge.”
Amani shook her head. “I thought I was up to it. But maybe I'm not.”
Aaron stepped toward her. “No, don't do that. Don't run and hide.”
"I'm not as good as you think I am.”
"Yes, you are. And you know it.”
Amani finally sat. “I've started off with a D. I don't want to take this course if I'll barely pass.”
Aaron walked around his desk. Amani's eyes narrowed as she watched him reach into a folder. He withdrew a few sheets of paper that had clearly been crumpled, but were now straight.
She felt a sinking sensation in her gut.
"I didn't count the story you submitted toward your mark. But I did count this one.”
Amani swallowed as he walked toward her. She knew what he was going to hand her even before she saw the title, All That Glitters,
"H-how did you get this?”
"You left it in your desk.”
Damn. He must have seen her shove her wad of paper in there.
"It was garbage,” Amani pointed out. “You shouldn't have retrieved it.”
"Au contraire. It was exactly what I wanted to see from you. Exactly what I knew you were capable of. And as you see, that story earned you an A+.”
Amani's stomach dropped at the memory of what she had written in the story. Feelings of not being attractive enough for her husband, and wondering if that was why he had turned to other women.
"And I understand now why you don't want to go to your cousin's wedding without a date.”
Amani shot to her feet. “You had no right.”
"Amani, I liked your story.”
"I. . . you weren't supposed to read it.”
"Then why did you write it?”
Because she had needed to purge herself of the emotions, and writing them down had been the best way.
But she didn't want to tell him that. So she secured her tote and binder under her arm and whirled around, prepared to stomp out of the room.
Before she could, Aaron's fingers wrapped around her upper arm. “What are you doing?”
"Leaving.”
"What about the wedding?”
"I don't want to talk about that.”
"You're just going to quit, aren't you?”
Amani paused briefly, then said, “Yes.”
"Look at me.”
"No.”
"Please.”
If only he wasn't so nice. She could deal with being rude to him if he wasn't such a gentleman.
She angled her head slightly so that her eyes met his.
"You don't need to be ashamed, or embarrassed because I read your first story.”
Oh, but she did. She hadn't wanted to admit it to herself, but Carl had dealt a lethal blow to her self-esteem. “I really don't want to have this conversation.”
"We all have our issues, Amani. I had a wife who cheated on me with my best man. With me, she was a cold fish, but apparently with him she was insatiable. That didn't leave me feeling very good about myself.”
"What are you trying to do—be my shrink?”
Amani watched his muscular chest rise and fall and wondered what it would be like to rest her head against it. She had walked away from her marriage and buried herself in work, but hadn't really given herself time to grieve. Grieving made her vulnerable, and she didn't want to be vulnerable. She had met Carl shortly after Aaron's rejection, and she had no doubt that that relationship had bloomed simply because she had needed someone to help her get over her broken heart.
A relationship that had ultimately eroded her self-esteem.
"Your ex-husband was wrong,
” Aaron said softly. “You're stunningly beautiful and entirely desirable.”
A startled breath escaped Amani's throat. What had Aaron just said?
"You heard me,” he told her. “So please, whatever you do, don't question that.”
"Why are you talking about this with me?”
Aaron released her arm. Took a few steps backward. “You're a passionate person. I knew that when you submitted that erotic story to me, and the thought that someone has snuffed out that side of you makes me angry.”
She was growing hot and moist at his words. “I think . . . think you should . . . stop.”
Aaron closed his eyes. “I know.” He reopened them. “But for the life of me, I can't. When I'm near you, it's like something comes over me, making me lose all my sense.”
Maybe Aaron was on drugs. Yes, that had to be it, because he wasn't making a lick of sense.
"I think I'll just turn around, walk away. Okay?”
Her stomach fluttering with nerves, Amani did just that. She took one step, then another. And felt a mild sense of disappointment that Aaron was going to let her walk away.
But before she could take the third step, she felt his hand on her arm. He whirled her around, drew her close, and planted his mouth firmly down on hers.
Amani was so startled she dropped her tote bag and binder.
The items landed on the floor with a thud. Her mouth opened in surprise. Aaron's hot, moist tongue immediately went into her mouth, tangling with her own.
Amani moaned her pleasure, succumbing to the kiss. Her eyelids slowly closed as she snaked her arms around Aaron's neck. God, did he ever smell good. The spicy scent of his cologne mixed with his natural scent to create an utterly intoxicating aroma. She wanted to sink her teeth into his neck, run her tongue along his flesh, drag her nails down the backs of his thighs.
The kiss was even better than she had always dreamed. Better because it was real.
It was real.
The thought hit her full force. She moaned again and clung tighter to him, not wanting to let him go. As her breasts crushed against his chest, her nipples hardened.
Aaron pulled his lips away from hers and trailed them down the expanse of her neck. Amani arched her head backward, giving him more access to her. His mouth went lower, lower, until he reached the V of her shirt and the roundness of one of her breasts. Then he stilled, but she could feel his warm breath fanning her skin.
An All Night Man Page 17
