Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
The last thing she needed to do was to moon over the rugged handsomeness of a student. An inappropriate relationship with a student, even a capable adult like Max, could cause problems for her career. With everything else screwed up in her life, Saylor didn’t need to shoot herself in the foot and take away her professional reputation.
Water coursed over her body, rinsing away the day. She ducked her head under the spray, allowing the soothing liquid to wash away the lingering tension headache. Despite teaching for several years, the first day was always nerve-racking. Adults were always easier than kids, but she could never count on having a good group until she spent time with them.
Pumping shampoo from the dispenser, Saylor lathered her long blonde tresses. She scratched her scalp lightly to rub away the last of her tension. With a sigh of relief, she leaned her head back to rinse the lather from the wet strands. Another first day was over. Saylor wondered if that anxiety ever disappeared completely.
She shook her head, figuring it never did. Teaching a new group was always intriguing. She’d never had a class similar to the last. In a course built to welcome everyone and advance the skills of beginners as well as skilled artists, Saylor tailored her instruction to what her students needed.
After squeezing the bulk of the water from her hair, Saylor grabbed some of the lavender bodywash she loved. Smoothing the silky cleanser over her skin, she inhaled the fragrance. Whether or not the herb relaxed her, Saylor enjoyed the scent.
As her hands slid over her body, an image of Max crossing the room completely nude rebounded into her mind. The play of his honed muscles under his battered skin had mesmerized Saylor. Max in motion was grace woven with power—completely addictive. Assured and at ease despite his exposed body, Max had seized everyone’s attention without trying. A pin drop would have clattered loudly in the silent classroom.
She’d sat down as quickly as possible to disguise the fact that her knees had faltered. Her pencil had flown over the paper, trying desperately to capture his essence. Je ne sais quoi. The French phrase, I don’t know what, describing a certain something that couldn’t be defined but made an impact, perfectly matched his allure. With the injury and the proof of his heroism carved into his skin, Max wasn’t classically handsome, but he was more.
Her fingers slid over her bare pussy, sliding into the slick juices welling from her aroused body. She explored her pink folds, imagining his huge hands touching her so intimately. The tingles built deep inside her as her legs wobbled from the intensity of the sensations. With a low moan, Saylor pressed her shoulders to the cold tiles to stabilize herself. In her memory, her gaze slid over his broad shoulders and down his torso. His butt was round and muscular. She’d instantly imagined grabbing his ass as he rammed into her.
And then he’d turned. His cock rested heavily on his thighs. Seeing it was thick and long even at rest, Saylor suspected he would be a demanding lover who gave back to whoever was lucky enough to warm his bed. She pressed two fingers into her slick entrance with a groan as she brushed her thumb over her clit. So on edge, Saylor had come almost instantly, biting her lip to keep from screaming.
She felt instantly ashamed that she had treated Max like a sexual object. She was no better than the students she kicked out of class for commenting on someone’s body. Even if every woman and some men had gone home to jump their partners, she should have operated at a higher level.
His direct gaze rebounded into her brain as he’d offered to walk her to her car for safety. Max was dangerous. A combination of irresistible allure and disciplined manners, he checked every single box on her dream man list. But he was a student and therefore off limits.
Saylor turned to stick her face under the spray in an attempt to clear her thoughts. For now. He wouldn’t always be in her class. Saylor wasn’t teaching next semester. She washed her face and pretended she hadn’t thought of that.
Quickly, she finished her shower and pulled on her oversized nightshirt. Sliding under the covers, Saylor crashed into a deep sleep. Max appeared frequently in her dreams. Deliciously.
* * *
The next week, Saylor looked up to see Max walk in as the fifth person to arrive in class. She nodded at him and took several quieting breaths to slow down her heart rate. Just another student.
He prowled to the chair he’d abandoned last time to sit on the model’s stool on the dais. She couldn’t describe his movement in any other way. For an immense man, Max moved with the grace of a dancer—light on his feet and perfectly coordinated. Over the course of the last week, she’d caught herself several times wondering what job he had on the special forces team. Now that question crossed her mind again.