Chapter 65: WILD THOUGHTS

ISABEL SLADE (First Person POV)

He stepped closer until I was backed against my desk. His eyes were glassy with unshed rage. “You don’t get to say that after what we shared.”

I felt his breath ghost over my skin, and my pulse jumped. His scent, coffee and faint cologne, swirled around me, intoxicating my senses.

“Get out,” I whispered, trying to nip this at the bud before it went too far.

“Say you don’t want me.”

“I said get…”

“Say it.”

My lips parted, but no words came. My throat closed around the truth. He saw it, and he knew i wanted him.

His hand brushed my jaw, thumb grazing my lower lip.

I should’ve moved. I should’ve slapped him, pushed him away and make the boundary between us very clear. But I didn’t.

My entire body was trembling, caught between anger and hunger.

“Cash…” I let out, almost starting to succumb to his temptation.

Then…

A knock shattered the silence. “Mrs Moore?”

I jerked back instantly, my heart leaping into my throat.

“Am I interrupting something?” a male voice asked through the slightly opened door.

We had forgotten about the door again!

Cash turned, breathing hard and his face went blank in an instant, like a mask sliding into place. I adjusted my blouse and swallowed past the lump in my throat, forcing my breathing to even out before speaking.

“No,” I said tightly, my voice very cold. “He was just leaving.”

The door opened wider, revealing Professor Linton holding a stack of files. His eyes flickered between Cash and I, suspicion clouding his expression.

This was what I was trying to avoid.

“You’re the transfer student, Mr. Steele,” he said dryly. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Cash swallowed hard, eyes darting to me once more. I caught the silent plea there… don’t end it like this… but I ignored it.

“I… I uh…”

“I was just about to send him away,” I said sharply, helping him cover this mess. “Leave, Justin. I’ll see to your… issue, next time.”

Cash hesitated a second too long, then walked out without another word.

The door closed behind him, leaving only the faint echo of his footsteps fading down the hall.

Professor Linton raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right, Mrs Moore?”

I forced a smile, tight at the edges. “Of course. It’s just a student needing… clarification.”

“Ah.” He placed the files on my desk. “Always dedicated to follow you around with foolish questions, aren’t they?”

I nodded, pretending to busy myself with the papers, but my hands were shaking. I could still feel the ghost of Cash’s mouth on mine, the burn of his fingers on my skin, the…

Suddenly, the air in the office felt too small, and the space became too suffocating, as if the walls themselves had witnessed and enjoyed the temptation.

“Mhmm” I nodded too eagerly “Like a damn puppy”

As Professor Linton began discussing faculty reports, my gaze drifted to the closed door.

Maybe his tease was working, because all I was thinking about now was how to get that beautiful man into my bed.

Maybe he could finish his apology in between my legs.

Days later

The restaurant glowed in warm gold. Soft jazz spilled from the ceiling speakers, curling through the scent of butter and wine.

I had chosen the farthest corner table, where I could see the skyline flicker beyond the wide windows and, for once, eat without having to talk to anyone.

Today was all about fine dining and alone time.

I ordered salmon with saffron rice and a glass of Chardonnay. It was quiet, and peaceful. The kind of silence I hadn’t felt in weeks since I walked in on the Graves brothers.

When the waiter approached my table again, I smiled politely.

“Would you like another drink, ma’am?” He asked as I ate my food.

“I’m fine, thank you.” I said.

But instead of leaving, the waiter placed a second glass of red wine on my table. “Compliments of the gentleman at the bar.”

My smile instantly vanished. “What gentleman?”

Oh God, this was one of those men.

When the waiter pointed, I turned and followed his direction.

And there he was.

Cash Graves.

Leaning on the bar counter like he owned the night.

Dark shirt, sleeves rolled, tie loosened, along with that same unbothered smirk that used to both irritate the first time I met him and undo me when I found out how intriguing he was.

He lifted his glass slightly in salute with a coy smile.

I froze. Then, very deliberately, I turned back to the waiter. “Tell him thank you. But no, thank you.”

The waiter hesitated, nodded, and left instantly.

Cash didn’t move from his seat even as I refused his offer. He knew better than to interrupt my dinner.

I could feel his eyes on me as I ate, he kept watching me, lazily and patiently. The kind of patience that wasn’t deliberate.

I ignored him….Or I tried to.

I forked my salmon, sipped my own wine, scrolled through my phone, and did anything to keep from me looking up at him and meeting his eyes.

But my pulse wouldn’t settle. I could feel his gaze like a torch against my skin, boring holes and making my body heat up.

Five minutes later, the waiter re-appeared, carrying something glossy, a designer gift bag, held together by a white ribbon, with silver lettering inscribed on it.

“From the same gentleman,” he said.

My fingers went cold on my fork. “He’s very persistent,” I murmured.

The waiter smiled nervously. “Should I take it back?”

I hesitated. Every eyes near me seemed to turn and notice the awkwardness. “No,” I said finally. “Leave it, I’ll handle him.”

When he walked away, I stared at the bag, my heartbeat was quick, and against my better judgment, I reached inside for the content..

Inside laid a silk material. Black, soft, rich silk.

My breath caught in my throat.

This was… underwear.

My own.

Folded neatly, and wrapped around a small note that smelled faintly of his cologne.

Let’s talk? Please?

For a moment I couldn’t think. The restaurant noise faded into a blur, the clinking glasses, the laughter, the soft saxophone solo. It all melted into static.

My throat burned as I looked up.

Cash was still there. Sitting, waiting and watching me patiently.

He didn’t smile this time. He just nodded once, asking for something wordlessly. As if daring me to come over or asking for permission to approach me.

He would get neither.

I slapped the bag shut. The scrape of my chair against the marble floor was loud enough to turn heads as I got out my seat angrily.

How dare he?!

I threw a few bills on the table, mumbled something to the startled waiter, and left the restaurant in a hurry.

The night air hit my face hard as I stepped outside, the atmosphere was cool and damp, smelling faintly with the promise of rain.

My heels clicked too fast on the pavement as I fled the restaurant. I didn’t look back, not once.

But I felt him.

Somewhere behind me, maybe still inside, maybe following me… I didn’t know, I just wanted to be far away from him.

And that fueled my drive home.

By the time I reached my apartment, my pulse still hadn’t slowed. I closed the door, locked it twice, leaned back against it, and pressed a shaking hand to my chest.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I didn’t need to check to know who it was, there was only one person who had this number.

Cash: You left your gift behind.

I turned the phone over, screen down. My reflection in the dark glass looked unfamiliar, flushed, restless, and very furious.

In the bathroom mirror, I laughed softly.

“Let’s talk,” I repeated under my breath bitterly, mocking his handwriting.

I threw the note in the sink, and it landed with a faint slap against the porcelain, curling in on itself as the water from the tap ran over it.

The black ink blurred, breaking apart until all that was left was the faint outline of his plea… please.

I turned off the tap as stepped out of my bathroom, forgetting the note.

But even as I changed into my robe for the night and tried to breathe, the scent of his cologne lingered in my mind, it was almost maddening.

I could still see him in my mind: the way he watched me from across the room, the weight of the silence between us for weeks now.

I sat on the edge of my bed, palms pressed to my knees. My heart was beating too fast, not entirely out of anger this time.

I hated that he could still do this. Just one sultry pleading look, with just one sweet gesture, and I was unraveling again.

How desperate was I to feel loved?

Outside, thunder rolled somewhere distant, and the first drops of rain began to tap against my window.

I sighed, stood up, closed the curtains, and shut the world out.

And then slowly, I undressed. Taking off my clothes down to my bare skin.

I climbed the bed, spread my legs open, turned on the vibrator and my hand got lost in the heat in between my legs, imagining him tangled in the sheets with me.

“Oh” I moaned softly.