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just a couple of bites. “I told you I love the food here,” he explained himself under my inquiring gaze. I laughed seeing his serious expression. He did really love the food.
     
    We walked back to school slowly, his arm around my shoulders, like we were promenading. I kissed him goodbye and watched as he went to his motorcycle, mounted it and rode away in the sound of the sexiest engine roar.
     
    “God, he’s sizzling,” I sighed and turned to get back to work.

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    I stretched my arms, semi-awake. I wasn’t in my bed and, for a second, I startled. Then I smelled his scent and relaxed. I reached to my side to grab onto him but I found an empty space. Sitting up, I looked for him.
     
    It was still dark outside and, grabbing the closest phone, I learned it was just past two in the morning. Assuming he was in the bathroom, I laid down again and when he didn’t come to bed for some time, I rose. Frowning, I grabbed his shirt and wrapped myself in it, then went searching through his house.
     
    I didn’t need to look much. Dawson was in the living room, sitting on the couch, phone at his ear. “No, that doesn’t fly with me,” he said before looking up and seeing me. I smiled and he looked unpleasantly surprised. He ended the conversation abruptly and stood up. “Hey, baby! Did I wake you up?”
     
    I shook my head. He threw the phone on the couch and walked towards me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rose on my toes to kiss him. Something was bugging me but it wasn’t enough to make me allocate more of my attention to it. He relaxed under my lips and swirled me around, which made me giggle. Once free of his tempting hands, I stepped towards the kitchen, gesturing for some coffee. I wasn’t in the mood for any more sleep and he seemed to agree.
     
    He guided me to my chair and began preparations while I watched. I loved seeing him do domestic chores. He was sexy, confident and there was something about him that made me feel safe. I was lost in thought, eyes glassy, when he presented me with a mug of steaming coffee. I looked up.
     
    “Thanks.”
     
    He nodded and sipped from his mug. This single insignificant move was accentuated by delicious muscles coiling under his tan skin, emphasizing the dark tattoos adorning his chest and arms. I trailed them with my eyes, images of when I first saw him flooding my mind.
     
    He had just moved in right next to me and was coming and going on his motorcycle. At first, the noise had annoyed me and, one day, I wanted to give him a piece of my mind. I had gone outside and seen him working on that beast of a machine he seemed particularly proud of. The weather had been scorching hot and his skin had been covered in sparkling drops of sweat, giving his tattoos the illusion they were made of precious metals. I remembered being struck by that beauty, forgetting all about my initial intentions. He had looked up and smiled and that was the first time my butterflies had been woken up by him.
     
    After that, I had looked for every excuse to be on my porch whenever he was outside. I had noticed he was looking at me often and whenever I had confronted him he never looked away. He was daring and looked like trouble and I wanted that.
     
    When I learned that my new student was his daughter I had been hurting. I had thought he was married and when I learned he wasn’t I wanted to throw a party.
     
    I laughed at the memory.
     
    “What is it, baby?” he asked, now sitting in front of me.
     
    “You’ll laugh at me,” I said, blushing.
     
    “Sure. What is it?”
     
    I made a shocked face and mock-slapped his thigh. He smiled again and sipped some more coffee, seemingly unaware of what he said.
     
    “Yes?”
     
    “I was thinking of the time I found out Ginger was your daughter,” I started.
     
    “And you thought I was married, right?” he remarked calmly.
     
    “Yes. How did you…?”
     
    “You don’t need to be Freud to notice that. You