She's Too Young (She's Too Young 1)

I picture her lying there in the flashes of white, naked, watching for the door to open and I barely stifle a groan. “You didn’t move in here for the purpose of my…comfort.”

“You mean sex,” she whispers.

“Yes,” I rasp. “I mean sex.”

I can see that I’ve surprised her, but she’s not ready to believe me yet. A fact that is confirmed when she rolls over onto her back and she stretches out like a contented cat, hollowing the valley of her stomach, angling her tits up toward the ceiling, arms flung above her head. “So you’re just going to stay on your side of the bed?”

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” I growl, my hands fisting in the sheets, a bead of moisture rolling from the tip of my elongated cock, down to the base.

“Maybe a little.” She yawns. “Maybe I think you’ve been given too much power and it’s nice to be given some in return.”

God, she’s a crafty little thing and I know that’s probably part of my fascination. With Veda, there is more than meets the eye. “I haven’t been given power,” I enunciate. “I’ve taken it.”

“Like you’ve taken me?”

Thunder booms outside and it leaves a deafening silence in its wake, except for the pounding in my ears. Before I can respond, a mischievous smile transforms her face and she tosses a pillow in my direction. I catch it in mid-air, very aware that this high school student thinks she can play games with me—one of the most powerful men in New York—and it’s not going to happen.

You’re even more handsome in the light…I can’t think straight around you…the more time I spend around you, the less I’m going to care.

I never put much stock in how women react to my appearance, but in Veda’s case, I care. If she’s even a fraction as attracted to me as I am to her, she’s affected. If I have to use that attraction as a means of reminding her I’m not one of the boys who probably beg to do her bidding on a regular basis, so be it.

When I reach out, allowing my hand to hover over her breasts, she visibly braces, her brow wrinkling when I merely pinch the gold locket she’s wearing between my fingers. “Who gave this to you?”

I’m already bracing for another bout of jealousy, but her words calm me. “It belonged to my mother,” she murmurs. “We couldn’t always afford nice things, but we saved up enough to buy this one year for Mother’s Day. She gave it to me before she died.”

The importance of the jewelry is threaded in her voice, so I lay the necklace down again gently, nearly hissing a breath when my knuckle grazes her warm skin. “Are you similar to your mother?”

She doesn’t answer for a long time and when she does, her words almost get swallowed by the storm. “If you mean, were we both kept under lock and key…yes. My father was overprotective over both of us.”

Gratefulness isn’t an emotion I’m familiar with, but just then, I’m feeling it toward Veda’s father. But it’s mixed with restlessness. I don’t like knowing she’s spent any amount of time in discontent. I’ll change that. “His intentions were to keep you safe, were they not?”

“They were,” she concedes with a sigh. “But if you love someone, the greatest gift you can give them is freedom, isn’t it?”

I can’t swallow. With those words, she has cut right through the middle of me. Because with the signing of a few documents, I’ve placed her back under lock and key, haven’t I?

All at once, however, she’s back to being playful, this mysterious girl. Once again, she’s throwing temptation my way, arms positioned above her head, hips swaying in my sheets, eyes inviting me to do the devil’s work.

I move into a sitting position and slide closer to Veda very slowly, desire eating me alive as I loom over her a moment. She goes completely still among the pillows, save the pulse jumping at the base of her neck. I take a moment to absorb the blow of her ethereal beauty, before I bend forward over her belly, heating her there with an exhale of breath. Her sleek flesh shudders, an almost inaudible whimper bubbling from above. Instead of moving lower, to the notch between her legs as I’m dying to do, I straighten, taking hold of the back neck of my shirt, whipping it over my head and tossing it onto the floor.

I’m not going to lie, it’s goddamn satisfying when her beautiful mouth falls open and her breath catches at the sight of me naked from the waist up. She is affected by me. That, at least, is not a game. And apparently I am the kind of bastard that would use a young girl’s attraction to his own advantage, because I’m already bending forward, swirling my tongue in her belly button.

It would be too easy to use my mouth on her pussy, have her clawing at my shoulders for relief within seconds, but I’m not after easy. Veda in my life permanently is what I need and that will only come with time and the breaking down of whatever resentment—warranted or not—she’s obviously harboring toward me. I’m under no delusion that I can resist getting physical with her for long. God, no. But giving in right now could drive her further away.

I’m flicking my tongue against Veda’s addictive navel when her fingers begin to twist in my hair, and I hear the sound of a moan being trapped behind her lips. With a pained smile against her belly, I trail my tongue up the center of her flat stomach, between her pink-tipped breasts, lifting my head to let my mouth hang just above hers. “Goodnight, Veda,” I breathe, knowing I’m going to regret teasing her the second I move back to my side of the bed.

Fuck, do I ever, because my cock feels like it weighs ten pounds, aching against the inside of my thigh. And I especially regret turning her on and stopping when she turns away from me, her body rigid enough to snap.

But twenty minutes later, when a crack of thunder shakes the building and she flies across the bed, I turn and wrap her up in my arms, kissing her forehead and murmuring comfort. She buries her face against my chest, her petite feet conforming to my calves for warmth. All seems forgotten.

For now.

Chapter Five

If you’re wondering whether or not I feel like a goddamn lecher walking down the hallway of a high school to meet with the teacher of my live-in sexual obsession, here’s your answer. Yeah. I do. The fact that I’ve rescheduled back to back overseas phone calls in order to fit this parent-teacher conference into my day doesn’t help, either. After holding Veda in my arms through the night, listening to her breathe and murmur nonsense, my thigh wedged firmly between her legs, I didn’t even hesitate before setting aside my professional responsibilities.

Even before she blew me a kiss on the way out the door this morning, I had faced the fact that my infatuation with her has turned somewhat unmanageable. Not having total control over everything in my life has punched holes in my gut, made me anxious, caused me to lose concentration when it comes to business decisions.

I know damn well she’s aware of my obsessed state. She loved slinking out of bed this morning and letting me devour the sight of her tight, swaying ass on the way back to her room. She’s torturing me on purpose and it’s only a matter of time before the reason is out in the open and we’re forced to deal with it.

For once, I’m not looking forward to the ensuing battle, but I’m hungry for what lays on the other side. I want to come home from work every single day and find her pouting in my sheets, whining at me for being late, until I quiet her down with my tongue between her legs. I want to dress her in clothes worthy of her and rip them to shreds as soon as we’re behind closed doors.

I want to send the staff home and make good use of that school uniform.

Most of all, I want to get inside her mind. There is so much on the other side of those blue eyes—bravery, intelligence—and I want to be immersed. I want to become so tangled in her thoughts, she can’t get me out. Like she’s done to me.

When I reach the door located at the end of the wide, ruthlessly clean hallway, Veda surprises me by stepping out from behind a

row of lockers. We’re alone in the hall, but I’m more aware than ever of our age difference, mostly because she’s holding a text book and a ‘Vote Shannon for Class Prez’ banner hangs just beyond her shoulder. It does nothing to eliminate the gnawing desire to back her up against one of the lockers and wrap her legs around my waist. Especially because she looks relieved to see me—happy, even—and her welcoming behavior sends blood rushing in my veins.

“You came,” she whispers. “I wasn’t sure.”

“If I make you a promise, Veda, I will always follow through.”

Her eyes take on a glassy quality as she drifts forward, like she’s being transported on a cloud. Heaven’s premier angel. “I thought I would go in with you.” She gives a small shrug and I get a nose full of bubble gum scent. “I want to hear from Professor Talvert what I need to improve on.”

Once again, I encounter the niggling feeling that she’s got an ulterior motive, but how can that be when she looks so innocent? She’s rubbing one foot against the other, chewing on that bottom lip and giving me ideas. Am I too cynical for my own good or is my guilt leading me to see things that aren’t there?

Like you’ve taken me?

Her words during the thunderstorm infiltrate my mind, but I don’t want to hear them right now. Not when she’s looking up at me with blatant hero worship and I’m moments from learning more about her as a person. Even if the information will be coming from a third party—her professor—I’m still desperate to learn what makes her tick. Just until I can get inside her head.

“If you want to be in this conference, angel, then you will be. Simple as that.”

Veda’s gaze widens a fraction, then she steps forward, running her fingers down my red, silk tie. “You get whatever you want, don’t you, Ramsey?”

“Perhaps,” I answer, unable to look away as she wets her lips. “I’m glad for it, too. It enables me to give you whatever you want.”