I smiled weakly, noticing the slight cleft in Mr. Marx’s chin for the first time. The muscles between my thighs tightened, and I shifted my weight, attempting to ease the ache there.
His lips twitched, but whether it was a frown or a smile hiding there, it wasn’t clear. The only thing I knew was that I was making a fool of myself.
Months without sex, telling myself I’m doing fine, and then a hot man walks into my office, and I nearly explode.
How old was he? Forty? I’d dated a couple of older men, but no one more than four years my senior. What kind of experience came with that age?
“Yes.” I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. “So, I saw in the files that you met with the former counselor here.”
He didn’t skip a beat. “She said Raven was spoiled.”
Mr. Marx ran a thumb along his lower lip, his dark eyes asking if I dared challenge him.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did the last counselor assume Raven was just spoiled?”
“She’s an only child. She has a nice house. I have a good job.” Mr. Marx spread his palms. “Is that enough for a teenager to turn rebellious?”
“No,” I carefully said.
“I didn’t think so either, but maybe,” He blinked, and his face relaxed, “maybe it is.”
“No,” I fiercely said.
His eyes snapped back to mine, and fire immediately ignited in my core. I swallowed hard, my mind spinning again. How could I be expected to focus with him looking at me like that?
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