Burnout - Coralee June Page 0,105

morning. No calls. No pleas for me to come home. Maybe it was immature to want to be chased. It was undoubtedly unhealthy and something my mama would’ve done. But I wanted Decker to love me enough to at least try.

“Yes, Mr. Harris,” I replied as the class filtered out. Maximillian waited by the door and gave me a nod of solidarity before disappearing into the hall.

Decker and I sat in silence for far too long. His lack of words spoke a clear message right through my heart and echoed everything we’d been building up to. Nothing. Say nothing. Do nothing. Keep this a secret.

He wanted me to be empty of my honesty and full of him.

“Surprised you wanted to talk,” I finally spat out. I couldn’t handle squirming under his pain-filled stare any longer.

“What? Because I didn’t text or call after your little outburst last night? Unlike you, I don’t prefer to break people’s hearts over the phone.”

Ouch. Last night, I felt confident in my impulsive decision. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

“When would you have suggested we have this conversation, Decker? After class? Over dinner with my brother? Hell, we could just call an assembly of all the people we’re lying to and announce it to the fucking world.”

He slammed a fist on his desk and stalked over to me. I stood up and backed away, not trusting myself to be close to him. Decker was relentless, determined to close the physical and emotional distance between us with every step. My back hit a lab table, and I looked around for an escape but couldn’t find one. Within seconds, Decker was cupping my neck. “You broke me,” he choked out while squeezing lightly.

“You broke me first,” I rasped.

His lips clashed with mine. We fought with our teeth, our hands, and our souls. I pushed at his chest, but he didn’t move. He never moved. That man was rigid in every sense of the word. He took what he wanted without care for the ramifications, and I let him.

I was almost worried about where we were. I almost cared that he was devouring me in his classroom and that at any moment, someone could walk through that door and destroy the secret we’d been harboring. But that was what I wanted, right?

So even though it hurt—even though it killed me to taste the mint on his breath and the hurt on his tongue—I caved into my body’s demands and kissed him back. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered between kisses, so low I almost missed it.

“Is that why you let me go? Is that why you gave up on me?” I asked while unfastening the buttons on his pants. I hoped his groans filled the hallways of this damn school.

“You didn’t even give me a chance,” he growled before picking me up and placing me on the lab table. My legs parted, and he stepped closer to me. “We agreed to try.”

I yanked on his hair before lavishing his neck with more kisses, scraping my teeth along his sensitive skin before sucking on his pulse. I moved with the hopes of marking his mind, body, and soul. I wanted the evidence of my love for him branded on his rough skin. “I’m done trying. I’m done hiding.”

“What about my job?” Decker asked as I pulled his hard cock out of his pants. It was huge in my palm, throbbing at my touch.

“If you cared about your job, you wouldn’t be about to fuck me on this table, Decker.”

“Punk,” he groaned before thrusting his hand between my thighs. His fingers found my heat, and I threw my head back as he stroked my electric need.

“Admit it,” I demanded while aligning him with my center. He continued to tease my clit, and it was cruel how amazing he felt. “Admit it, Decker,” I said again when he wordlessly pushed my panties to the side.

“No,” he replied before sliding in me. I could have torn a hole through my lip with how hard I was biting it. My fingers clawed at his back. His hands dug into my hips. My heart was on fire with hate and energy and pain.

He thrust again and again, slamming the table against the classroom walls. Certainly, someone would hear. Was this his way of giving in? Of telling the world about us? I said his name, my voice growing louder with each syllable.

“Be quiet, Blakely,” he ordered before slamming his palm over my mouth. I whimpered at