“Me, too,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “I used to fantasize about you while you taught.”

Jesus.

“Now it’s worse,” she continued. “When I see you, I think about having you again. I should be able to make it through the day and I can’t. What is that?”

“Insanity,” I answered, releasing her mouth, my lips traveling down to the soft skin at the base of her neck, nipping there.

“I’ve had some serious fantasies about you and this desk,” I whispered against her bare flesh. I moved back, wrapping her legs around my waist, staring down at her.

Blair’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink, at odds with the way her mouth curved into a naughty smile.

“Oh really?” she murmured.

I nodded. “So many fantasies.”

My voice was hoarse, lust and need fueling me now.

I reached down, my fingers playing with the hem of her pink sweater. I stroked the bare skin beneath the fabric, and then I lifted the sweater over her head, inch by inch, until she sat propped on the edge of my desk clad in a lacy pink bra.

I groaned. Beautiful. Absolutely stunning.

I still couldn’t believe I had her; couldn’t believe she wanted me. I’d spent so much time convinced that I’d fucked up my life beyond repair, that I’d never find more than casual hookups and the kind of loneliness that ate you from the inside out like a corrosive acid, that the idea that this girl who seemed like more dream than reality could be mine, was too much good fortune for me to comprehend.

The last time something had seemed too good to be true, the last time I’d found myself wanting more for my life, I’d nearly lost everything. The fear that it would happen again, that a girl like Blair could destroy me, had me terrified.

But I loved her.

No matter how scared I was, the love I felt for her made it difficult to play it safe.

Blair’s hands came up, resting on either side of my face, her fingers threading through my hair, a smile on her lips.

“Are you going to stare at me or are you going to give me an orgasm before contracts?”

I grinned. “I can definitely do that.” I glanced down at my watch. “Let’s try for two.”

She shivered.

I knelt down in front of her, sliding her boots and socks off of her feet, another tremor going through her body as I touched her. I stood up and my fingers found the snap of her pants, opening them, dragging the zipper down, my hand finding lace beneath her jeans.

I lifted her hips off of the desk, and she wriggled a bit beneath my touch as I dragged the denim down her legs until it hit the carpet. She slid back on the desk, her body spread open, desire blazing in her beautiful eyes.

My hands shook as I took off my jacket, as I fought with the knot on my tie, my fingers flying through my shirt buttons. And then my chest was bare, and my hands came down to the button on my pants, pulling them down, my boxers following, kicking my shoes off, each movement a mad dash to get naked and inside this girl as quickly as possible.

Blair

It didn’t matter how many times I got to see Gray strip, each time felt like the first time in the sense that my lady parts spasmed and rejoiced at all those ripples and all that bare skin.

The urge to lick each muscle was one that had yet to abate.

And then hands slid up my inner thighs, spreading me even further, and his naked body settled against mine, rocking against my core, and it got even better.

His thumbs dipped under the top of my lace underwear—underwear I’d definitely purchased with the intent of him taking them off me—and he dragged the lace down my electrified skin. When they hit the floor, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him even closer toward me, my body drenched, the need to have him inside me swelling with each moment that passed.

His hands came between my breasts, fingers trailing down the curves with agonizing sweetness that felt more like torture than a caress. He unhooked the front snap, peeling the lace off of my body as I arched my back, offering myself, desperately needing to feel his hands and mouth on me.

I’d figured that at some point this edge between us would disappear—or lessen, at least—but if anything, it only seemed to grow each time we were together. I craved him now in a way I never had before, because I knew how good things were between us; knew without a doubt in my mind that I would never find someone I wanted as much as I wanted him.

His mouth closed down around my nipple, his hand stroking my other breast, and a moan escaped, my head rolling back as he stoked the fire inside me, working his own particular brand of magic.

He played with me until a flush spread over my body, until my breasts were sofuckingsensitive, my nipples tight, my legs quivering. It was like that moment when a cold chill hit, and that tingling, shivering feeling took over, making the hair stand up on your body, a trail of goose bumps spreading over your skin. Except my moment had lasted for like ten minutes, and really, there was only so much a girl could take.

Gray released me, his mouth trailing down my chest, down my stomach, until his lips hovered over my clit and my entire world became suspended as I waited, waited . . .

His tongue hit my clit at the exact moment the orgasm started to build inside me, the combination of anticipation, cold chill nipple torment, and the feeling of, oh god—his mouth sucking on the throbbing point between my legs—sent out a series of spasms my body couldn’t contain, and then I was coming, biting down on my lip to keep from shouting out, my head thrashing as I rode the wave of the Dom Perignon of orgasms.

The man had a gift.

And then his hands dipped between my legs, spreading me open, his cock sliding inside me in one rough stroke until he was buried in my wetness, and the last tremors of my orgasm went from dying embers to flickering sparks.

Fuck me.

He was definitely going to give me a two-for-one special.

Gray’s mouth found mine, swallowing the whimpers and moans, complete and utter gibberish that escaped my lips as he pounded into me, his hands gripping my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he brought me down onto his cock, forcing me to take him deeper.

I’d never thought I’d be the kind of girl who liked rough sex—and I didn’t always—but this? My back against the top of his desk, what might have been a pen digging into my ass, papers spread all around me, as he rode me hard? Fuck, this was amazing. Double orgasm amazing.

He released my mouth, his face buried in my neck, his hands pulling at my hair, yanking my head back as he increased his pace, his hips pumping deeper. I gripped his back, his shoulders, stroking the muscle there, loving the image of this big, strong man on top of me. Of Gray. Mine.

And then it started again, that pulling feeling low in my belly, my skin heating, my body clenching down on his as he fulfilled his promise and gave me my second orgasm of the day, all before noon.

I walked into contracts with a smile on my face.

Chapter Twenty-three

Blair Reynolds has moved on from her broken engagement to Thomas Wyatt III . . .

You won’t believe her new love . . .

—Capital Confessions blog

Blair

I stared at my computer screen. I blinked. The same letters stared back at me. I blinked again. Still there.

It was nearly the end of the first week of classes and the moment had snuck up on me. Last semester’s grades had arrived.

Panic filled me, settling in my gut, spreading through my limbs, my entire body choking with it, a black, sticky tar that momentarily rendered me immobile.

Fuck.

Straight C-pluses stared back at me. In every single class. If it weren’t so horrible, I’d laugh. Maybe. How was it even possible to get straight C-pluses in every single fucking one of my classes? What were the odds?