Chapter 4: Why can’t I get you out of my mind?

Chapter 4: Why can’t I get you out of my mind?

Kell

I sigh in relief when the last bell rings. I’ve never been the type to stay still, and it drives me nuts to have to sit for so damn long. I look around as everyone rises up from their chairs and eagerly rush out the door. At that moment, Carrick meets me near the door and walks beside me until we reach our lockers.

Carrick’s locker is next to mine. As he pulls the locker door open, he mutters gleefully. “Alex texted me earlier. Mikhail, Rowan, and Neveah are coming home for dinner.”

I grimace at the news then turn the dial of my lock. It’s not that I don’t want to see my brothers, it’s just that I have tutoring today.

“I’ll probably be late,” I answer with a blank look. “Mr. Moody wants me to take after-school tutoring.”

Carrick frowns as he places his books inside the locker. “You should have told me you needed help. I would have tutored you.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I know, man, it’s just something Mr. Moody wants me to do. Anyway, I have to go. I’m going to meet my tutor in a few minutes. Can you take the bus? I don’t want to be stranded.”

Carrick nods his head. “Sure, man.” Closing my locker, I give my brother a fist bump and make my way to the library.

The library is quiet at this time of day. It looks somewhat desolate and abandoned compared to how it looks during the school day. Hopefully, this tutor dude can help me. Mrs. G, our librarian, greets me as I walk in. “Hey, Kell.” She leans her arms on the counter with a welcoming smile. “What you in for?”

I nod my head and lean my bag over the surface of an empty desk. “Hey, Mrs. G, I’m here for tutoring. Mr. Moody set it up.”

She nods her head and smiles. “Oh, so you’re the student. Okay, take a seat. Your tutor should be here in a few minutes.”

I shrug my shoulders and take a seat at a nearby table while Mrs. G gives me an encouraging wink and turns back to whatever she was doing.

I like Mrs. G. She always asks me how I am and lets me use the media room whenever I want to listen to music.

My eyes roam around the room taking stock of all the amenities we enjoy throughout the day. There are bean bag chairs, tablet stations, and comfortable spots to read or work in silence in different parts of the room. That’s another thing. Mrs. G knows how to keep the interest of her students. She’s huge with technology and keeping us engaged.

I scroll through my cellphone as I wait for my tutor.

Just then, the doors of the library open with a loud whoosh. I gape at the sight that greets me. It’s Amara Vega. There’s no way that she’s my tutor. Is there?

My heart speeds up as she brushes her long dark hair behind her and walks up to the library counter. Mrs. G gives her a cheerful smile. “Hey, Amara. What brings you by?”

She gives Mrs. G a gentle smile, her plump lips gleaming luscious and pink under the fluorescent lights. While she stands there, I can’t help but run my gaze down her curved form. Unaware of my scrutiny, Amara leans her arms on the counter. “Hi Mrs. G. Actually, I’m here because I have a tutoring session.”

Mrs. G. points to where I’m sitting and says, “You’re in luck, Amara, your student is right there.”

As if in slow motion, Amara turns toward where Mrs. G is pointing. It’s almost comical how her eyes widen, and her mouth opens and closes with shock. But I have to give it to her because she recovers quickly. Clearing her throat, she hitches her bag high on her shoulder and makes her way to my table. My mouth dries, and my body ignites at her fluid movements. Trying to get a firm hold on my body’s reaction, I give her a cocky smile and casually lean back on my chair. “Hey, beauty queen. I guess you’re my tutor.”

Feeling cocky, I give her the once over and run my gaze caressingly across her long legs. “I can’t wait to see what you'll teach me,” I whisper seductively as I stretch my feet on the chair in front of me.

My smile widens further when her body stiffens, and her hands tighten around the strap of her bag. As if praying for patience, she takes a deep breath and slams her bag over the table. “Look, Kell, I don’t know what kind of scam you’re running on, Mr. Moody, but this is not a joke. I’m here to tutor you, not baby you.”

My body flounders as she pushes my feet off the chair and sits in front of me, rigidly. Her chest is heaving with anger, but she doesn’t relent. “So, if you’re not serious about this, then let me know so I can talk to Mr. Moody.”

Her words bring me back down, making me feel humbled. Sitting up straight, I lay my elbows on my knees and bow my head. “You’re right, beauty queen. I know this isn’t a game, and I’m not faking anything. I do need this. I promise I’ll be good. Just let me know what you need me to do.”

She gazes into my eyes as if gauging my honesty and takes a couple of deep breaths. After a few moments, her posture eases. At first, I think she’s going to run, but then she releases a deep sigh and says, “Okay then, as long as you’re serious, I’ll help you. Where do we begin?”

I smile at her words and turn back to my bag, taking out a pencil and a notebook.

We spend the next hour reviewing my work. She berates me a few times for having a messy notebook, which I have to say is really hot. “No wonder you’re not doing well in class. Look at this mess.” She says, holding out the notebook with its scribbles and torn sheets. Huffing with frustration, she lays the notebook back down on the table and arches a brow. “We need to work out a way to organize these and maybe set up a better system for note-taking. SinceI’ve taken a few of these classes, I’m sure I still have old notes for this class. I’ll see if I can find them.”

She stops talking and continues rifling through my notebook with consternation. She looks so beautiful with her emerald eyes spitting fire. It makes me want to kiss her. I try to ignore the niggling feeling that this girl is getting under my skin, but I know that I’m losing this battle. Somehow Amara has managed to worm her way into my thoughts and refuses to leave. Everything she does makes me want to possess her. I can’t help but harden when she bites her lips and scribbles something inside her notebook.

Shifting in my chair, I move closer and lean over her shoulder with the pretext of seeing what she is writing in my notebook.

Her scent assails my senses, making me feel intoxicated. Oblivious to my complete absorption in her, she turns her head and comes face to face with me. My eyes catch her emerald green ones. We simply stare at each other as if mesmerized. I can feel her sweet breath mere millimeters from my own, and my heart begins to beat wildly in my chest. My lips tingle with desire as I move closer. She smells incredible, like a beautiful summer day on the beach. It’s almost a heady feeling to be this close to her.

As if I can taste her, I run my tongue over my lips and bite down. She bites her own lip as if responding to my gesture. Our breaths mingle as we move closer. It’s almost as if we’re breathing for each other. I’m trapped in her gaze, and I never want to leave. We’re both mere inches from each other when a loud noise resounds through the room. We both split apart, frightened as the janitor rolls his cleaning cart across the floor. He gives us a stern smile and says, “The place is about to close kids. You need to head home now. I have to clean up.”

Amara rises from her chair, startled, and knocks a few books onto the floor in her haste to get away from me. It would have been comical if it wasn’t such an intense moment. “Yes, sir.” She says nervously as she bends down to pick up the books. “We’ll be out of your way in a minute.” The janitor gives her a kind smile then turns to my slumped form with a scowl. “Make sure you take everything.” He states firmly.

I’m assuming that by “everything,” he means me. Amara looks down at me and nudges her chin towards the exit. “We better go, Kell. I laid out all of the notes you’ll need to study in your notebook. I’ll find some of my old notes too. We can go through them tomorrow.”

Not commenting further, I gather my own things and follow behind her. It doesn’t mean that I’m not hyper-aware of her, though. No, all of me is thrumming with need as I watch her hips sway under her little skirt. The urge to slip my hands inside of her thighs is almost hard to resist, and the hot thigh-high stockings that she’s wearing don’t help either.

She’s everything that any guy dreams about with her hot good girl outfit. I know that nearly every night, she stars in my dreams.

Jaw tight, I close my eyes and imagine sliding my hand up her firm thighs to remove each stocking one at a time. A groan escapes me at the thought of how silky and smooth she'd feel beneath me.

Just then, Amara turns back to me and gives me a questioning scowl. Shit, I’ve been caught staring.

Feigning innocence, I clear my throat and give her a boyishly innocent grin. “What?”

Amara frowns. “What’s wrong?”

I shrug my shoulders and covertly adjust the tight bulge in my pants. “Nothing.”

At first, I think that she’s going to call me on my lie, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sighs in exasperation and turns back to the door. “We better hurry. I don’t want to get locked in here.”

I snicker at her comment. “You’re such a good girl. I bet you have straight A’s and take AP classes.”

Her eyes narrow with a glower. “So, what’s wrong with being a good student? You should try it.”

Shaking my head, I move closer and open the sliding door to make a little room for her to pass through. I can tell that she’s annoyed by the fact that I barely give her any room, but she doesn’t comment.

Amara's face flushes, becomingly as we stand there face to face.

She tries to slide by, but I hold my hand out to create a barrier between her and the exit. I don’t know why I keep torturing myself this way. I know that it’s not a good idea, but I can’t help it. It’s like she’s a flame, and I’m the moth. Amara gives me another questioning look, which makes me harden even more.

Smiling, I lean my head near hers and whisper seductively, “But it feels so good to be bad, beauty queen. You should try it.”

She exhales in exasperation and doesn’t say another word. Instead, she pushes my hand out of the way and walks ahead of me until she reaches her parking space.

The car suits her. It’s a red Mini Cooper with a white racing stripe in the middle. Lip quirked, I look at my own car. My car definitely fits me. It’s a 1970 red Plymouth Hemi Barracuda. Azazel gave me the car after I hooked up a few of his cars with some high-tech racing gear. I love all kinds of cars. When I was little, my dad and I used to fix older cars.

My dad was a car mechanic and taught me everything he knew before he was killed. I guess the love for old cars stayed with me. One day, I asked Azazel to let me fix one of his cars. At first, he was hesitant, but then he relented, Well, let’s just say Azazel was more than impressed by my skills. After that, he gave me a few cars to fix and lent me the use of one of his friend’s body shops. Once he saw that I was skilled, his friend offered me an afterschool mechanic job. Soon after, Azazel gave me the Barracuda in exchange for fixing his cars whenever he needed it.

Snapping out of my thoughts, Amara opens her car door and looks at me from the corner of her eyes. The wind ruffles her hair and carries her sweet scent back to me, reminding me of our near kiss earlier. Maybe it’s better this way. There’s no way that the beauty queen and I would ever work out. Not wanting to dwell on it any longer, I walk to my car and watch as she slips into her front seat. Starting the ignition, she gives me a slight wave and drives away.

Once she’s gone, I frustratedly slam my head over the steering wheel then sit back with a sigh. I want to take her to bed so bad. My wings and my shaft strain with the need. I thought I was going up in flames when she moved closer to me earlier. I’ve never been so ensnared by a girl. Girls are usually the ones that chase me. I really don’t know what to do about this. All I know is that this is a complication that I don’t need at this moment.