But pushing her from my mind is impossible. Even a quick trip to the teacher’s restroom to splash cold water on my facedoes nothing. If anything, it just makes me more aware of how damn hot my body is. My skin is on fire, and my cock is a growing bar of molten steel, just moments from solidifying.
How am I going to get through the damn day when I can’t stop thinking about that miniskirt?
No doubt some of the other female teachers will notice and reprimand her, which is why I made sure to be first and schedule a disciplinary meeting with her for after school.
If anyone’s going to punish her, it’s going to beme.
Plastering an amiable expression on my face, I go back to the classroom as my next period girls start to funnel in. I’m wiping the board down when I catch something out of the corner of my eye. It’s just a glimpse, but it causes me to whirl.
Thighs…soft…smooth and slightly tan.
Gracie.
Am I imagining things, or is that a mischievous glint in her eye as she passes me? A soft aroma of vanilla and rose drifts sensually into my nostrils, and my muscles clench. She takes a seat right in the center of the front row and crosses her legs, causing her skirt to hike up even more.
My blood pressure skyrockets as my thoughts instantly race to the most forbidden places. I have to bite down on my teeth just to bring myself back to reality.
You’re a teacher! Keep it together!
But as I turn back to the board, I notice her the top button of her blouse is unbuttoned, exposing a line of cleavage that threatens to shatter my resolve.
All I can do is turn away and go back on auto-pilot.
I scribble problems on the board and start calling on students. Normally, this would be simple. A routine I’ve gone through a thousand times. Only this time, Gracie’s presence tugs at me like an invisible force, tempting me. Telling me,Be a bad man.
And I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to resist.
My lust twists into tension, which twists into anger, a passionate rage urging me to act.You want to provoke me, little girl? I’ll show you what I’m made of.
She has no idea what she’s getting herself into with me. If I crack and let her through my walls, I’ll never let her go. And both of our lives will change forever.
I don’t fuck around. If I want something, I take it. Full throttle. But with Gracie…God, I can’t let that happen. Tom would kill me. But what am I supposed to do? It’s been less than an hour since she walked in here looking like a dream, and I can’t get her out of my mind. She’s a pleasure poison that’s pumping through my veins and threatening to take over my body if I don’t find a cure.
And then there’s my protective instincts kicking in too…
I want to button her up, give her a new skirt so no one but me can see her. I want to scold her and tell her just how naughty she is for breaking dress code. For tempting me and any other men who might see her looking like that.
Other men…
No! That can’t happen. Thank God we’re at an all-girl’s school. Because if I saw any male checking her out, even if he was a student…I don’t know how I’d hold back.
I shift my stance, using every ounce of willpower I have to fight back a full erection when I hear Gracie’s voice behind me.
“Mr. Davis? In your example, are you sure the granola bars cost one dollar and the water bottles cost three? Because that wouldn’t make sense for the first solution.”
There’s a murmur through the class, and I glance back at the board as sweat begins to drip from my brow.Shit, she’s right.I totally just screwed up my example because I was too busy thinking about her!
Hastily, I wipe away the numbers and replace them with the correct ones. I’m falling apart. How the hell am I going to get through the rest of the day if I can’t even make it through a single class?
And it’s my best friend’s gorgeous daughter who’s going to destroy me.
“Yes. Good catch, Ms. Williams.”
I stuff two pieces of gum into my mouth and chew hard as I turn back to the board, trying my best to ignore the fact that Gracie is sitting a few feet behind me. Every time a breeze blows through the window, I catch a whiff of her perfume, threatening to drive me wild. But I keep my back to the class and hold out until the bell rings.
As the girls filter out, Rachel stops at my desk and whispers, “Mr. Davis, are you mad at us?”
“No, of course not,” I reply, forcing a smile. “Why would you say that?”
