~Nicole~

By the time I left Caspian standing there like a Calvin Klein ad dipped in concern, my panties were a disaster, my brain was fried, and my legs were moving on autopilot.

Vice Principal's office. That was the goal.

Except... I had no idea where the hell that even was.

I took a left. Or maybe a right. I couldn't think anymore. My thoughts were still sticky.

And then...I saw him.

Leaning against the lockers like a slow sin.

Black hoodie. Sharp jaw. Dark brows.

And a silver lip ring glinting under the hallway light like it wanted to be licked.

Wait...what?

My body reacted instantly. Heat coiled low in my belly, and I swear my ovaries high-fived.

What the actual hell is going on with me today? Am I... ovulating? In heat? Did someone curse me with horny girl syndrome?

He turned his head slowly, catching me staring. A crooked smirk tugged at his lip, the pierced one.

"Lost?" he asked, voice deep, calm, way too hot for a hallway.

I blinked. "Uh. Yeah. Vice Principal's office?"

He stepped closer. Lazy confidence. The kind that didn't ask for attention, it commanded it.

"Take the hallway straight, last door on your left," he said.

I nodded. I should've walked. I meant to walk.

But I was still standing there like an idiot, staring at that shiny little ring.

Lips.

Lips with metal.

Tongue. Lips. Piercing. Thoughts. Bad.

I squeezed my thighs.

Get it together, Nicole.

And then...

Boom.

Landon's face popped into my brain.

Eyebrow piercing. Smug mouth. Cocky glare.

Ew.

Nope.

Abort. Abort mission.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I shook my head. "Thanks," I said, trying to walk past.

But his voice stopped me. "You okay?"

God. Why do hot guys keep asking me that?

"Yeah. Just a weird morning."

He looked at me for a beat, eyes flicking down my body in a way that wasn't rude, just...observant. Knowing.

"Welcome to hell," he said, smirking again.

Great. More fuel for my inner chaos.

He turned, took a step like he was about to leave, then paused.

"I'll walk you," he said. "I'm heading that way anyway."

Shit.

"Uh...sure," I managed, trying not to stare at his mouth again.

We started walking.. Close.

I could smell him.

Crisp. Clean. A little pine. A little sin.

Focus.

"You new?" he asked casually.

"Is it that obvious?"

He glanced over, lip twitching. "Just a little. Also, you've got a death grip on your bag like it owes you money."

I looked down. I was definitely clenching it like a bomb was inside.

"Right," I muttered.

"Well, when guys around here keep popping up like limited-edition sin, can you blame me for holding onto the only thing that won't ruin me?"

"Or you just bumped into Landon."

My eyes shot to him.

"Wait...you know him?"

"Unfortunately," Liam said with a shrug. " Kind of."

Of course.

I snorted. "Figures. The asshole club."

He grinned. "He's not that bad. Once you get past the ego and the mouth."

I gave him a look.

"And the dickish smirk," I added.

Liam laughed, low, smooth, and unreasonably attractive.

God help me.

This school was going to ruin me.

He paused a few steps ahead.

"It's that door," he said, nodding toward the one boldly stamped V.P. in black letters.

I followed his gaze, lips parting to thank him.

But then, I made the mistake of looking down.

His hand.

Those fingers.

And....Jesus.

His nails. Short. Clean. Neatly trimmed.

Fuck.

My entire body reacted like it had just been whispered to.

Imagine those fingers teasing the seam of your panties... pressing in slow and deep... curling just right.

God.

I squeezed my thighs so tight I could've snapped a pencil.

"Thanks," I croaked, turning away like that would help.

It didn't.

Not when I could still feel him behind me.

His body heat. His eyes.

Wait.

Was he still watching me?

I risked a glance over my shoulder.

He was.

Hands still in his hoodie pocket. Leaning against the lockers again. His eyebrows raised just slightly.

That smirk, slow and deliberate, like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

My face burned.

I turned back around, ready to bolt...

"Hey," he said, voice low.

I stopped, pulse skidding.

"Yeah?"

A pause.

Then, he stepped closer.

Slow. One foot. Then another.

He didn't stop until he was close enough for me to feel his breath, to smell that mix of pine and heat and boy.

He looked down at me, eyes lazy, heavy-lidded, but sharp beneath it all. He wasn't just seeing me, he was studying me.

"Wanna know what I think?"

No. Yes. Maybe. Fuck.

I swallowed. "What?"

He leaned in slightly, lips near my ear.

"You're way too soft to survive in this school," he murmured, "But damn if I don't wanna see you try."

My breath hitched.

His eyes flicked to my lips.

He wasn't moving fast. But it felt like he could.

Like he was one half-step from kissing me, or destroying me.

My brain short-circuited. Every cell in my body screamed do not move.

But he stepped back first.

Like he'd had his fun.

Like he already knew I'd be thinking about that for the rest of the day.

"You'll need that schedule," he said, nodding toward the office door.

Then he turned and walked away..

Wait..."My voice barely came out.

I didn't know what I was asking.

Just that I needed something.

"What's your name?"

He paused. Didn't look back at first.

Then slowly, he turned his head.

"Liam," he said. Voice low..

Then he kept walking.

And I stood there... whispering it to myself like a sin I wasn't supposed to say out loud.

Liam.

Temptation in a black hoodie just flirted with me like foreplay was a handshake.

And I let it happen.

God help me.

My hand brushed the doorknob to the V.P. office, but my mind was still in the hallway.

Wrapped around his mouth.

His fingers.

That lip ring.

I groaned under my breath.

After a few moments to get it together..

I opened the door.

And her bulging eyes pierced straight through me.

"Took you long enough," she said coolly.

"Or maybe you thought I'd given up." I shot back.

Her gaze swept over me.

"I see you tinted your hair." A scoff. "How rebellious."

I tilted my head. "What? Don't you like it?"

Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Or are you about to tell me to cut it off?" I added.

She leaned forward, voice silk and steel.

"No, Nicole."

A pause.

A beat too long.

"If I wanted something gone..."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I'd make sure it never grew back."

She flipped open a folder.

"Now..." she said slowly, turning her eyes to the chair in the corner. "Meet your new student, Miss Winter."

The chair spun.

And when I saw who it was..

My heart dropped.

My stomach flipped.

And my mouth barely moved as I breathed out,

"Oh no."

~Nicole~

"How nice to meet you again"... Miss Nicole Winter," he said.

His legs were spread, that damn hoodie still on like he hadn't just threatened to lick me clean twenty minutes ago.

The smirk on his face?

Cocky. Wicked.

He was enjoying this.

Too much.

My jaw twitched.

"So... so when you said I had to tutor a student in order to guarantee my stay here..." I turned to the Vice Principal, eyes wide, voice rising.

"You were talking about him?"

She didn't even flinch. Just sat there sipping from a cup like she hadn't just set me on fire and walked away.

"Oh, you've met. That's great." She snapped the folder shut and smiled, completely fake.

"No need for any more formalities then."

My eyes shot back to him.

Landon.

Smiling like the devil just handed him a plaything.

"Any objection with your tutor, Mr. Landon?" she asked, adjusting her glasses.

He leaned back, spreading those damn legs wider like he owned the room.

"Not at all, Vice Principal." He looked me over slowly, deliberately. "Miss Winter's just the right person."

My body betrayed me again, legs tight, skin hot.

I hated him.

But my traitor thighs disagreed.

"Great. Now out of my office," She said, waving me off like a bad perfume. "Lesson hour starts at four."

My brain screamed.

Four?!

I checked the clock on her wall.

3:50.

Did she do this on purpose?

I turned back, heat crawling up my neck.

"I don't accept this student."

Her eyes snapped up..She tilted her glasses with one finger. "And who said you had an option?"

I opened my mouth.

She cut me off. "You're lucky he accepts you. Unless you'd rather go back to..."

"No," I said quickly, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence.

No way in hell was I going back to Weakers Academy.

I didn't just get a scholarship out of that hellhole to land back there because of some...jerk-faced, cocky, over-inked, smug-ass male demon in human skin.

Landon was standing now. Tall. Broad.

Leaning into my space like gravity worked differently for him.

His voice dropped low near my ear. "You could've said no, sweetheart," he murmured, lips way too close.

"But I'm glad you didn't."

My stomach flipped.

I hated that his breath made my knees warm. And the fact that I could still smell the Coke from earlier on his shirt... and somehow, it was still sexy.

"Four p.m.," Vice Principal Harper said behind us. "My office better not hear a single noise that isn't academic. Got it?"

Landon chuckled, dark and quiet.

"No promises," he said without looking back.

She glared at him.

He winked.

And me?

I stepped out of the Vice Principal's office, already bracing myself for tutoring hell.

I could feel him behind me..

His presence clung to me like heat. Like trouble.

I walked fast.

Too fast.

And that's when it happened.

I brushed past someone. Just a shoulder.

A second.

But it hit me like a jolt to the chest.

Pain.

Deep. Strange.

Like something pulling tight inside.

I gasped quietly, hand hovering over my heart. I turned around quickly.

But the guy was already walking off.

Tall. Blue jacket. Hands in his pockets. Gone.

The ache faded just as fast as it came.

Weird.

My thoughts scrambled.

And then..

"Really?"

That voice.

I didn't have to look to know it was Landon.

He was right beside me now, walking too close.

"You planning to faint next? Or just being dramatic to get out of tutoring me?"

I glared at him, heart still thudding.

"I wasn't.."

He stepped in front of me, cutting me off. That lazy smirk back on his face.

"Because if brushing past a random guy makes your chest ache..." He leaned in, voice dropping.

"What's it gonna feel like when I've got my hands on you again?"

My knees wobbled. Damn him.

"You're disgusting."

He grinned wider. "And yet... here you are. Still stuck with me."

I moved to walk past him.

He didn't let me.

"Don't make me chase you, sweetheart," he said.

"I might enjoy it too much."

My breath hitched.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

And at 3:59, I was already burning.

Three minutes later, I was already regretting every life choice that led me to Room 3B.

It was dead silent when I walked in.

One desk. Two chairs. A whiteboard that hadn't seen use since God knows when.

And him.

Sitting at the back. Legs spread. Hoodie still on like it was part of his personality.

He didn't look up when I entered.

Didn't have to.

He felt me.

I swear he smirked without even moving.

I closed the door.

It clicked shut like a warning.

One hour. That's all I had to survive.

I took the chair across from him, dropping my bag louder than I needed to.

Still, he didn't say a word. Just tilted his head, eyes dragging up my body like a slow lick.

"You're late."

I glanced at the clock. "By one minute."

His tongue ran across his bottom lip.

"That's sixty seconds I could've had your mouth doing something better."

My jaw dropped.

"Excuse me?"

He leaned in just a little. Voice low.

"Tutoring. I meant tutoring, Miss Winter."

Cocky bastard.

I opened my folder, flipping pages too fast to read.

"Are you actually failing or do you just enjoy ruining people's lives?" I muttered.

He hummed. Low. Deep.

"You're not people."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Landon leaned back, arms crossed. Watching me. Studying me.

"It means you've been in this school less than 24 hours, and I already know what you sound like when you moan."

My legs locked under the desk.

He grinned. Slowly.

"You think I'm easy to forget, Nicole?"

"That mouth of yours said no, but your thighs said 'God, yes.'"

I swallowed hard.

"You're so annoying."

"Are you being honest?." He reached forward, pulling a pen from my hand without asking. His fingers brushed mine.

Intentional.

"Let's begin the lesson," he said, voice almost mocking.

He opened a notebook.

Blank.

Of course.

He shoved it toward me. "Teach me something, genius."

~Nicole~

"So... history," I said, trying to sound professional and not like my panties were currently glued to me from pure tension.

Landon didn't say a word.

Just watched me from across the table, lounging like this was his fucking throne and I was some amusement for the day.

I flipped open the textbook.

"Chapter twelve," I muttered. "European revolution."

He smirked.

"Was that the one where everybody lost their heads?"

I looked up.

His eyes were already on my mouth.

I cleared my throat. "Literally and politically, yes. Robespierre..."

He cut in.

"Sounds hot."

I blinked. "What?"

He leaned forward, elbows on the desk."Power-hungry. Bloody. Sharp."

His gaze dipped again."Bet he'd have fun with you."

"Excuse me?!"

Landon grinned, tongue lazily pressing into the corner of his cheek. "You're into control. Pretend all you want...you like it when someone pushes."

"I do not..."

"You do," he said. "You're sitting across from the guy who said he'd pin you to a desk and lick soda off your skin. And what did you do?"

I swallowed hard.

"You showed up."

My thighs clenched. "I'm only here because I was forced to.."

"Yeah?" He leaned in. Slow. So damn slow.

"What's your excuse for wearing that tight little top again? Or is that just your rebellion kink showing?"

I glared at him.

He chuckled low. "Keep talking, Miss History," he said. "Let's see if you can teach with my foot brushing up your leg."

"What?"

Then I felt it.

His boot.

Sliding against my ankle. Up.

My voice caught.

"I'll give you a quiz," he said smoothly.

"Let's start with one question."

He lifted his hand and lazily tapped the edge of the desk.

"One: how many fingers were you imagining when I said I'd taste you?"

My jaw dropped.

He smiled wider. Darker.

"I'm a visual learner, Nicole. So don't be shy."

I stood up fast, But my legs shook just enough for him to notice.

His eyes tracked the tremble, lips curving like he'd won something.

"You hate me," he murmured, "But you're soaked."

I didn't deny it.

Couldn't.

Because every inch of me was throbbing with proof.

I could still feel the ghost of his boot on my leg, still see the way his fingers had tapped the desk like he already knew what my body would beg for.

God.

Why did it have to be him?

Why couldn't I have walked into that stupid fresher's party last night and spilled wine on someone boring?

Someone forgettable?

Not Landon-freaking-sin-in-a-hoodie.

Because now I know.. He wasn't just being gross.

He was reminding me that this started the second I drenched him in red wine and he looked at me like a meal he intended to devour.

And today?

He was serving revenge cold and filthy.

I gritted my teeth, grabbing the edge of the desk to keep myself from shaking again.

"You're impossible," I muttered.

"And you're wet," he shot back, voice low and lethal.

I glared at him. "You think you're charming?"

"I think I could get you on your knees with one sentence," he said, leaning in, smirk dripping.

I snapped the book shut.

"If you want to pass this class, you better shut up and listen."

He tilted his head, eyes dragging over me slowly, deliberately.

"See, I think you're getting this backwards, sweetheart," he said. "You're the one who needs me."

I opened my mouth.

He stood.

One hand on the edge of the desk, the other sliding into his pocket.

"You think they'll keep you here if I say you suck at tutoring?" he asked. "You think that scholarship holds up if you can't handle one cocky asshole with a pencil and a smirk?"

He stepped closer.

I didn't move.

His voice dropped lower.

"You can't afford to hate me, Nicole."

I swallowed.

He wasn't wrong.

I needed this. I needed to stay in this school.

And he knew it.

But that didn't stop my glare. Or the tremble in my legs. Or the fact that my whole body was betraying me just standing this close to him.

I shoved the textbook at his chest.

"Chapter twelve," I said through clenched teeth. "Start reading."

He caught it. Barely glanced at it.

"Make me."

I stepped closer.

Big mistake.

Because the second I did, he leaned down, just enough to let his breath kiss my cheek.

"You gonna punish me, Miss Winter?"

My whole body clenched.

He grinned.

"Thought so."

His lips brushed my ear.

"You gonna flinch every time I touch you?" he murmured.

"Or are you gonna finally admit you like it?"

I clenched my fists.

"Touch me again," I said, voice barely above a whisper, "and I'll break your fingers."

He froze.

Then smiled.. "Break them," he whispered, "but you'll still dream about them."

And then he backed off.

Just enough to breathe again.

He grabbed the book from the desk.

Cracked it open.

"Chapter twelve," he said, voice casual now.

Like he hadn't just dragged me to the edge and left me dangling.

"Better teach quick, sweetheart," he added, licking his bottom lip.

"Before I decide class is over and recess is me between your legs."

My knees nearly buckled.

Recess between my legs?

Who the hell even says things like that and means it?

Landon, apparently.

I sat down..

He flipped a page.

Didn't say anything.

Just sat there, elbow on the table, chin resting on his knuckles, watching me like I was his next guilty pleasure.

Which, apparently, I already was.

I swallowed, flipped open my notebook.

"Robespierre," I said, proud my voice only wobbled once. "He was part of the Jacobins. Took control during the Reign of Terror. Executed thousands."

Landon raised an eyebrow.

I pressed on. "He was later executed himself. Guillotined."

He smirked. "So you're telling me, even the guy who played God lost his head over something?"

I rolled my eyes. "It wasn't..."

"I get it," he cut in. "You're into dangerous men with power issues."

I snapped my gaze up to him.

"Are you seriously comparing yourself to a French revolutionary?"

He leaned forward again, voice dropping.

"I'm just saying... if I ever had you under me, sweetheart, I wouldn't lose anything."

My mouth parted. My entire body went rigid.

Then his boot brushed up my calf again.

Soft.

Like he hadn't just shattered my composure thirty seconds ago.

"Landon," I warned, barely a whisper.

"Yes, Miss Winter?"

His voice was innocent.

His eyes were not.

"I'm trying to teach," I said tightly.

"Teach away." He spread his arms, leaning back. "I'm listening. Very... closely."

God.

I needed air. Space.

Instead, I dropped my pen.

It rolled.

Of course, toward his side of the table.

He reached down, slow and smug.

Picked it up with two fingers.

Held it out to me.

But when I went to take it, he didn't let go.

He just stared at me...our fingers pressed together...until I forgot what air was.

Then, finally, he released it.

"You're shaking," he said softly.

"I'm not," I hissed.

He tilted his head. "Guess I haven't tried hard enough."

"I'm not scared of you," I said.

"No," he agreed. "But you're hungry. And I'm the first thing on the menu you can't admit you want."

I shot up from the chair so fast it nearly fell backward.

"I'm done tutoring."

He smirked like he expected that.

But didn't care.

"Same time tomorrow, Miss Winter," he called as I stormed toward the door.

"Next chapter's all about uprisings. Should be fun."

I didn't respond.

"Don't be late tomorrow, Miss Winter," he called after me. "I've got something to show you. Something... thick."