I set the stack of quizzes on the desk. No reason for me to look at her at all, but I notice her seat is empty. I wonder if last night exhausted her. Is she sleeping in today? She arrives just as I move to shut the door.
Scarlett Ford waltzes into class wearing a low-cut shirt and a short skirt, and I lose all hope of another day not wanting her. Her hair is in a high ponytail, and her lips are drenched with gloss that I want to see smeared on my cock when I fuck that fresh mouth.
All I’m thinking is how soon I can make that happen. It feels helpless to fight it. It’s only a matter of time.
Her eyes find mine, and it’s like she knows what I feel. What I’m trying to hide.
I force my gaze down and return to the podium, adjusting the quizzes, and wait for my pulse to settle. Through my lashes, I watch her take a seat. Not her usual. She’s in the center, a row higher, one she knows is the perfect angle to give me a full view of her legs. As she shifts, I get a glimpse between her thighs.
My jaw locks in painful tension while my fingers curl around the podium’s edge.
Blood turning thick and hot, I know right here, right now that this girl is going to destroy me.
With the class filled, I clear my throat and walk through the aisle, handing out the exams mechanically, student by student. When I get to Scarlett,she lifts her gaze at the exact moment I lower the paper.
Our stares collide as her fingers brush mine. A current shoots up my arm like I grabbed a live wire.
“Morning, professor,” she says softly, but that voice of hers is a fist around my heart.
“Ford,” I manage, flat, impersonal, and professional. And totally pathetic, even to my own ears.
I drop the quiz onto her desk and move on before I do something unforgivable.
I catch her predatory smile before I move away. Like she’s enjoying the challenge of trying to get a rise out of me. Not realizing how well she’s already done.
Lost in mental chaos, I finish handing out the quizzes, ignoring other stares and attempts at my attention. Only one person matters.
Scarlett.
When I reach the front again, I speak to the class without taking my eyes off the clock at the back of the room. If I look at that woman, I’m done.
“You have thirty minutes. No talking. Phones away.” I pull at my collar. “And good luck, you are going to need it.”
Pens click, and pages rustle, and I think I’m in the clear.
I make the mistake of dragging my eyes from the clock, then stopping at the fourth row. Fuck, Scarlett is looking right at me with a smirk on her face and a pen in her mouth that she’s pushing in and out. A blush colors her cheeks, and her pupils are dilated.
My throat tightens, and my heartbeat stutters hard enough that I have to grip the podium to hide the tremor.
She’s doing this on purpose. She doesn’t understand how dangerous what she’s asking for is.
Something happened to her last night. I sensed a shift. Ava wasn’t near death, but she’d successfully calledGriffin’s wife’s condition, set her up for care. Even located the second heartbeat. Knowing you have that knowledge and power brings on a rush like no other. I bet the experience is marching through Scarlett’s veins like wildfire. I’ve been there, I know the feeling.
She tilts her head the slightest degree. My throat vibrates as one of her hands slips below the desk and onto her lap. Her legs part open a little more.
Her knees are dead ahead, straight in my view. Her skirt rides up an inch. Then another. Just enough for me to notice.
She crosses her legs and then…uncrosses them.
Too fucking slowly.
And holy mother of God. She is not wearing underwear.
Just like she fucking promised.
Heat floods my spine, but I breathe out through my nose, fighting for control.
Her eyes drop to my hands gripping the podium, and the smile on her lips is a shot to the heart. She’s fucking won, I’m hooked and glued.