Holy shit.
Isabelle Matthews.
But… She’s grown up. Gone is the geeky, chubby kid I remember. The one who had applied to go to teaching college. She’s back, and she’s all woman.
This Isabelle is tall, with toned legs, curvy hips, and full breasts that fill out her outfit perfectly. Her below-the-knee pencil skirt, crisp white shirt, and burgundy V-necked jumper hint at just enough cleavage to intrigue. Her hair is pinned with the top half up, and she looks every bit the confident professional.
I try to say hello, but my voice refuses to make an appearance.
She is stunning. Clear English-rose skin and striking sapphire blue eyes that fix on me as a small smile plays on her dusky pink lips. Lips I can easily imagine wrapped around my length.
Jesus fucking Christ, James!
I realise I’m starting to sound like Daniel. What’s even worse is that she had been my student. There is no way I should be thinking about her like this.
But my body refuses to listen to my own admonishment, and I feel my cock start to thicken.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Get it together! A pretty woman walks in, and this is your response?
She stares at me as she halts in her tracks. Yup, same Isabelle. But as she straightens her posture, taking a deep breath in, I can see her morph into someone else entirely. A new Isabelle—confident, in control, and composed. For a newly qualified teacher, she certainly exudes an impressive self-assurance. Maybe this won’t be as much of a hand-holding situation as I had feared.
I rise as she takes her seat at the table.
“Mr. Wentworth, it's a pleasure to see you again. I look forward to working alongside you and creating a thriving performing arts department.” She holds out her hand, and I’m dumbstruck by her. My mind is blank. “I apologise for my lateness; the traffic was worse than I remembered.” Her voice is steady and sounds like it holds a subtle purr. I take her hand, shaking it, noting her skin is soft and warm, but she has a firm no-nonsense shake.
I don't seem to be able to speak properly. I struggle to match the girl I once knew with this new Isabelle. My mind is frozen, stalled, as I sit here speechless. I feel like an awkward teen, complete with a very inappropriate hard-on.
I sit back down quickly, desperate to hide the developing bulge in my pants and take back some
Yes, Miss
semblance of control. As head of this department, it’s my role to manage Isabelle and her transition here.
I clear my throat and finally find my voice again. “Isabelle, it must be strange to be back on the other side of the desk. I do hope you find your feet and settle in. If memory serves me correctly, you were quite the talented pianist.” Memories of our lessons come flooding back, our duet pieces and how fluently she played.
She sits back in her chair and takes her time in answering, sipping her tea before leaning forward, placing her elbows on the table, and bringing the cup to her lips again. Every move seems slow and deliberate, and I can't help but watch her, my eyes slowly drifting down to glimpse the cleavage of her soft, rounded breasts beneath her shirt.
“Mr. Wentworth—” My attention snaps back to her jewel-toned eyes.
“Call me, erm, call me James, please,” I stutter, feeling like a child that’s been caught. Shit. Embarrassment washes over me at my lack of professionalism.
“James,” she sounds out slowly, like she is trying how it feels to say my name, and I like the way it sounds on her lips. “I’m looking forward to becoming part of the team.”
Oh, me too, Isabelle. Me too.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Chapter 7
Isabelle
Surprise washes over me as I see him sitting at the conference table. But it’s a pleasant surprise. I can’t think of anyone better to have as my mentor, my manager, and my colleague. I can’t believe James is still here and that I’ll be working with him. He looks a little less put together than I remember. His hair is longer, strands curl slightly at the nape of his neck, and there are slight shadows beneath his eyes.
Yet there’s an edginess to him, a feeling of hunger that wasn’t there before. It's no longer student and teacher; it's now two adults, and I swear there's something there. Something like a spark, a tension, and I know I caught him looking at my cleavage. Watching his eyes darken as he took in my curves was intoxicating. His fumbling of his words and the way he seemed nervous talking to me gives me a little rush. The knowledge you can affect someone, it’s one hell of an ego boost, that’s for sure.
Yes, Miss
