Although, in my defense, it wasn’t like I’d been able to predict that I’d find myself up against a locker with Gray’s hand between my legs.

It was glorious.

The ache between my thighs intensified, throbbed, the promise of his fingers tantalizingly close, mind-blowing.

At least I’d foregone a full ballet costume, wasn’t wearing a leotard. All he had to do was reach higher and slip his hand into the waistband of my tights.

“Touch me,” I whispered, the sound unnaturally loud in the alcove off of this quiet hallway that had somehow become our own private world.

He moved, as if my words had given him the permission he needed to take what he wanted, and gave me everything.

Gray

Blair’s leg quivered beneath my touch, the scratchy tights against my skin an erotic torment.

I wanted to feel her soft skin, hated the barrier between us. Her body curved into my touch, throwing off heat. I forced myself to go slow, to drag the moment out when all I wanted to do was rush, to prolong her arousal until her legs parted for me, until soft pants escaped her lips, and I heard the word, please, delivered in a tone that bordered on desperation.

My fingers trailed up her thighs an inch. Then another. I stroked, higher still, until I felt her body go boneless in my arms, soft sighs slipping out of her mouth, filling my ears in a melody that spurred my limbs.

A low, almost inhuman growl escaped me, my fingers drifting over her sex, pressing against her tights, her wetness seeping through the fabric.

“Fuck,” I groaned, pushing forward, my cock rocking against her core, my hands on her hips under the pink tutu, searching for entrance.

I leaned into her, inhaling her scent, my nose grazing the sensitive skin at her neck, teasing another shiver from her. My teeth found the hollow between her neck and shoulder and bit down, tasting her there, marking her, any hope of civility completely obliterated.

I sucked on the curve of her neck, imagining that creamy soft skin marred by my lips, tongue, and teeth. It felt like I was defiling perfection, molding it, changing it, taking all of that goodness and making it something wanton. Turning her into the girl who stood with her body pressed against mine, rubbing herself over my fingers, her body quaking around me.

I had to have more.

My hands traveled up under her skirt until they reached the waistband of her tights, my dick jerking with a surge of triumph. I hovered there, dragging my fingers across her stomach, the softness there, back and forth, while she shivered against me.

When the pressure in my chest became too tight, the ache in my cock too great, I slipped under the elastic, my fingers sliding down, down, until I found the nub I was looking for. I rubbed her clit with my middle finger, once, twice, the movement teasing a tremor from her body. Then another.

I forced myself to go slow, to make it good for her, reached for control only to discover it had snapped a long time ago.

I stroked downward, my body shuddering as I traced her soft lips, as they coated my fingers.

So fucking wet.

My free hand reached out and grasped her neck, holding her head back so that our gazes met.

Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, her eyelids fluttering as if she were trying to get her bearings, trying to get herself under control.

I waited for the words, for her to tell me how badly she needed my touch, my fingers hovering just outside of her entrance, inches away from sinking home.

She opened her mouth to speak, to give me what I wanted, to give me everything by the look in her eyes, and yet no words came. She was somewhere else entirely, somewhere where pleasure took over and consumed past the point of reason. I lowered my fingers another inch, teasing her there, stroking through her wetness and warmth. She jerked against my hand, and then I couldn’t take it any longer; I slipped my middle finger inside, the feel of her body clenching down around me making my balls ache.

Whatever fantasies I’d had about touching Blair Reynolds, this blew them out of the water.

Blair

His finger filled me, thick and sure, and then another one joined it, stretching me, fucking me.

I tried to set the pace, tried to move over his hand, honing the orgasm building inside me to a sharp point.

He didn’t let me.

The hand that had held me by the back of my neck, the hand that had felt so masculine and so strong, now came down my body, pressing between my breasts, lower, until it settled on my stomach, holding me still, commanding me to go at his pace, to take what he gave me.

I stopped moving, the need to come obliterating all else.

He rewarded me by increasing the thrust of his fingers, pumping in and out, each movement creating a delicious friction, heightening the sensations in my already sensitive core.

He curled his fingers when he was fully seated inside me, each time sparking the beginnings of my orgasm, each touch a promise. He played me like an instrument, each stroke teasing out another note of my arousal until I’d been reduced to an incoherent mess.

Words and sounds escaped, but I had no clue what I was even trying to say. My hands reached out, gripping his biceps, my nails digging into his black sweater, somewhere between holding on for balance and trying to pull him closer. Begging, demanding he give me what I wanted, what I needed.

And then it started, the heat spreading through me, his thumb rubbing over my clit, once, twice, until I was coming, my body in spasms as I shattered in his arms.

Gray

I was painfully hard, my balls tight, begging for release. The zipper of my jeans dug into my erection. My fingers were soaked. My self-restraint had flown away.

Fuck.

I stood frozen while Blair straightened her tights and her skirt, looking nowhere near as ruffled as I’d expected her to be. I was the one who’d lost control.

Again.

Fuck.

“We have to stop doing this.” I wasn’t sure if I said it more for her or myself. “You’re one of my students. We might not be that far apart in terms of our ages, but that still doesn’t change the fact that if anyone finds out about this, it’ll be bad. You don’t want to start your legal career with people gossiping that you slept your way through law school. And trust me, it’s a small community, if they find out about us, they will.”

Blair grimaced. “You don’t need to convince me of how damaging gossip can be. I’ve lived my life in the public eye, remember?”

I nodded, still struggling to connect the girl who’d just come in my arms with the girl who cared about appearances and worried about her reputation. Somewhere along the way she’d lost her control. Or given it up. I wasn’t sure which anymore.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to focus on doing the right thing and not how much I wanted to touch her. I should never have followed her out of the gym, should never have given Crossword Boy the opportunity to see how I felt about her.

But some stupid, primal part of me had reacted to him touching her, laughing with her. I’d wanted to claim her as mine. Even when I couldn’t have her.

Bastard.

“And what happens in January?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re no longer my teacher after finals in December. We receive our grades in January. What happens then?”

I didn’t get it. I mean, I got it. I just didn’t get it.

She was gorgeous and smart, political royalty. She could have anyone.

Why me?

“I don’t know.”

She moved away from the lockers, rising to her full height, her arms crossing in front of her chest.

“You’re scared.”

I blinked.

I’d been prepared for anger. I should have known Blair wouldn’t give me the expected. Instead, she looked disappointed in me. As if this had all been a test I’d failed.