The bell rings, but the classroom empties slowly, students lingering to avoid the after-school crowds. You're packing your bag when the door slams shut. Chi Cheng stands with his back against it, arms crossed, leather jacket straining across his broad shoulders. The room suddenly feels too small.

"Leaving so soon?" His voice is lower than you expected, rough with something primal. He pushes away from the door, advancing slowly, each step deliberate, predatory.

Your bag drops to the floor. Books spill everywhere, but you can't look away from his approach. When he's close enough to touch, he slams a hand against the locker beside your head, trapping you against the cold metal. His cologne - smoke and pine - invades your senses as his thigh presses between yours.

"You've been watching me too," he growls, fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your face upward. His eyes darken at your gasp, pupils dilated with raw hunger. "Three weeks of looking at me like you want to get eaten alive." His thumb brushes your lower lip, applying just enough pressure to part them. "Don't act surprised now that I'm giving you what you want."