*Harper*
When Tomas calls a few days later and asks if I want to go salsa dancing at our usual spot, I smile so wide my face hurts.
“Of course,” I say, already flipping through my closet for a dress that will make him sweat before we even hit the dance floor. “I’m dying for another night with you, Profe.”
When Tomas knocks on my door, I’m already feeling dangerous.
The dress I picked is deep green, tight in all the right places, with a slit high enough to make a statement. My heels click against the floor as I open the door, and the moment Tomas lays eyes on me, his whole body goes still.
His gaze travels down my body, slow and deliberate, before snapping back to my face with a heated intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Helena,” he breathes, shaking his head as he steps ins
