The Principal's Office by Jasmine Haynes

Author:Jasmine Haynes [Haynes, Jasmine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Contemporary
ISBN: 9780425247167
Google: qLQjSLsT514C
Goodreads: 12447358
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2012-02-07T06:00:00+00:00

17

IT WASN’T FAIR. WHEN SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN THINKING about Rand at all, Rachel was consumed with wanting to know everything about him, why he’d become an educator, if he loved his job, what his triumphs had been, what he’d regretted, why he’d never married or had kids of his own when obviously he had to love kids. The fervency with which she wanted to know these things was somehow more intimate than merely wanting sex.

Monday night, it took five tries to get the damn garage door opener to work. She focused on her anger rather than on Rand. Tuesday, the remote worked. With nothing to grouse about, thoughts of Rand came back full force. God, she missed sex with him, missed his voice late at night. She wanted to cry on his shoulder about Nathan, confide that she didn’t know what to do. It was awful, weak.

She couldn’t talk to him, of course. The two parts of her life had to remain separate. She couldn’t mix them, or the boundaries would get skewed.

She suddenly realized she was thinking like Rand, that their sex life was their business. Not her sons’. Not Gary’s. Not the school board’s or the teachers’ or the students’. She picked up her phone and punched in his number. Like she wanted to show them that she wasn’t going to let anyone run her life or tell her what to do.

Rand answered, and his voice was so good, her heart hurt just to hear it. She hung up because it was insane to want him this badly.

By Wednesday, she was so crazy for an orgasm, for him, that she didn’t care anymore.

“You called last night,” he said, not allowing her the first word.

“Here are the rules,” she told him. There had to be guidelines to keep herself in check. “You talk dirty to me and make me come. We don’t talk about Nathan or anything that has to do with the other parts of our lives. Agreed?”

“So this is just a phone thing.”

She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t commit. She just needed him now. “Tonight is tonight. We’ll talk about what’s going to happen later”—she paused—“later.” She was being needy and sounding bitchy. If he’d said that to her, she’d have slammed the phone down.

“Agreed,” he finally said.

Oh, thank you, thank you. “Tell me a fantasy.”

She was naked on the bed, her skin warmed, her body wet, her nipples peaked.

“I’ve been watching you for weeks,” he said. “I want you, but I have to figure out how to get to you.”

Her flesh hummed to the rhythm of his voice, the deep tones. For now, she simply ran her fingers lightly over her body, her breasts, abdomen, thighs. “Mmm” was all she said to keep him going.

“You’re in the penthouse, and it’s a fortress up there. I imagine storming it, and taking you, holding you down, forcing my cock inside you. I’m crazy with thinking about it.”

He had so many variations on the theme. A stranger wanting her from afar.

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