complicated.”
“I’m not asking for your Facebook status.”
My eyebrows lifted.“I’m not on Facebook.”
She huffed in annoyance and marched back to the front of the room. “Answer the question.” She used a stern teacher voice on me. I dug it.
“I’m exactly who you think I am. The man you met, the one you slept with—”
Dropping her voice, she hissed, “The man I fucked , you mean. Hunter Sexton, Hunter Angelo . . . which one is it?”
“Officially on the job at Mt. Pleasant PD, Hunter Sexton. As Jack’s dad, Hunter Angelo.”
“ Urg ! You’re infuriating.” Her breasts swelled in the blue blouse with her ragged breaths.
Now probably was not the time mention I thought her Miss Barnes look was ridiculously sexy.
“Angelo. That’s my real last name, the one on the birth certificate, the one that keeps my other aliases, and potential enemies, worlds away from my family. I can’t say much more than that. And you should never mention it either—the lives of people I love would be endangered if you did.” I walked down the narrow aisle between the desks toward her. I felt like a frigging giant in this brightly colored classroom, towering above the miniature desks and chairs.
JB slid back to sit on the edge of her desk. “Oh really. That’s not just a line to get women off your back?”
“JB, Miss Barnes . . . whatever—”
“It’s Jessica.”
“Jessica.” Her name rolled off my tongue like a kiss. Jessica Barnes.
My gaze traveled from her high heels up her stockinged legs to the hem of the skirt that had shifted higher when she sat down. Up her slim waist and over her breasts to her lips. I stopped there for a moment. I still hadn’t gotten my blowjob.
When I met her distinct and dark eyes, uncontrollable instant attraction snapped between us.
Breaking eye contact, I raked my hands through my hair. “Right. Here’s the thing. I’ve had a lot of different identities because of my job. Know this: I am Retribution. I am a dad. I’ve been working for Mt. Pleasant PD. I have a long history in law enforcement. Most of it ain’t pretty. And no one wants to dig deeper.”
“So I’m to take you at face value,” she stated.
“Yeah.”
“And trust you?”
“Yes.”
“Angelo,” she hummed my last name. “Italian. That explains your looks.” She slipped to her feet and walked around me in a slow ring.
I thought she’d touch me. My skin tingled as if she did. Her fingers didn’t connect with my body, just her eyes, watching me hungrily.
“The black hair, your golden brown eyes, bronzed skin,” she murmured.
The hot flash of our attraction flared brighter. JB faced me, her cheeks tinged pink, highlighting the tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. It was my turn to circle her. I strolled around her, admiring this new view of a career woman. My fingers skimmed down the center of her back, rasping against the silk of her shirt along the line where her butterfly tats marked her skin.
Standing behind her, I unpinned her hair. The wavy tresses fell into my hands. “What about you, JB? Harley Momma. Tank Girl.” I nipped her earlobe. “Kindergarten Teacher.”
“Riding is my escape. My time away from million-hour work weeks.” She spun in my arms. “I love the kids, love what I do, but I need time to be me too.”
“ Mm .” I agreed.
Her eyes were hooded. Her ripe lips parted. The thin blouse did nothing to hide her pronounced nipples. Her desk looked sturdy enough for a fuck. I cupped her breasts in my palms, angling my head for a kiss when she pushed me away.
Adjusting her hair, her shirt, her skirt, she hissed, “This is a professional meeting, Mr. Angelo.”
Her harsh rebuff splashed across me cold as water. She was absolutely right, and I had no rights coming onto her in this setting or probably any other one.
“Hands off the teach. I got it.” I backed away until I found Jack’s diminutive desk.
Folding my body near in half, I sat down in his
“I’m not asking for your Facebook status.”
My eyebrows lifted.“I’m not on Facebook.”
She huffed in annoyance and marched back to the front of the room. “Answer the question.” She used a stern teacher voice on me. I dug it.
“I’m exactly who you think I am. The man you met, the one you slept with—”
Dropping her voice, she hissed, “The man I fucked , you mean. Hunter Sexton, Hunter Angelo . . . which one is it?”
“Officially on the job at Mt. Pleasant PD, Hunter Sexton. As Jack’s dad, Hunter Angelo.”
“ Urg ! You’re infuriating.” Her breasts swelled in the blue blouse with her ragged breaths.
Now probably was not the time mention I thought her Miss Barnes look was ridiculously sexy.
“Angelo. That’s my real last name, the one on the birth certificate, the one that keeps my other aliases, and potential enemies, worlds away from my family. I can’t say much more than that. And you should never mention it either—the lives of people I love would be endangered if you did.” I walked down the narrow aisle between the desks toward her. I felt like a frigging giant in this brightly colored classroom, towering above the miniature desks and chairs.
JB slid back to sit on the edge of her desk. “Oh really. That’s not just a line to get women off your back?”
“JB, Miss Barnes . . . whatever—”
“It’s Jessica.”
“Jessica.” Her name rolled off my tongue like a kiss. Jessica Barnes.
My gaze traveled from her high heels up her stockinged legs to the hem of the skirt that had shifted higher when she sat down. Up her slim waist and over her breasts to her lips. I stopped there for a moment. I still hadn’t gotten my blowjob.
When I met her distinct and dark eyes, uncontrollable instant attraction snapped between us.
Breaking eye contact, I raked my hands through my hair. “Right. Here’s the thing. I’ve had a lot of different identities because of my job. Know this: I am Retribution. I am a dad. I’ve been working for Mt. Pleasant PD. I have a long history in law enforcement. Most of it ain’t pretty. And no one wants to dig deeper.”
“So I’m to take you at face value,” she stated.
“Yeah.”
“And trust you?”
“Yes.”
“Angelo,” she hummed my last name. “Italian. That explains your looks.” She slipped to her feet and walked around me in a slow ring.
I thought she’d touch me. My skin tingled as if she did. Her fingers didn’t connect with my body, just her eyes, watching me hungrily.
“The black hair, your golden brown eyes, bronzed skin,” she murmured.
The hot flash of our attraction flared brighter. JB faced me, her cheeks tinged pink, highlighting the tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. It was my turn to circle her. I strolled around her, admiring this new view of a career woman. My fingers skimmed down the center of her back, rasping against the silk of her shirt along the line where her butterfly tats marked her skin.
Standing behind her, I unpinned her hair. The wavy tresses fell into my hands. “What about you, JB? Harley Momma. Tank Girl.” I nipped her earlobe. “Kindergarten Teacher.”
“Riding is my escape. My time away from million-hour work weeks.” She spun in my arms. “I love the kids, love what I do, but I need time to be me too.”
“ Mm .” I agreed.
Her eyes were hooded. Her ripe lips parted. The thin blouse did nothing to hide her pronounced nipples. Her desk looked sturdy enough for a fuck. I cupped her breasts in my palms, angling my head for a kiss when she pushed me away.
Adjusting her hair, her shirt, her skirt, she hissed, “This is a professional meeting, Mr. Angelo.”
Her harsh rebuff splashed across me cold as water. She was absolutely right, and I had no rights coming onto her in this setting or probably any other one.
“Hands off the teach. I got it.” I backed away until I found Jack’s diminutive desk.
Folding my body near in half, I sat down in his
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