Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Excerpt from Lessons for Teacher

WARNING: Adult content ahead!

Brady grinned. He took her bottle from her and set it on the windowsill behind her, then took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

Well, such as it was. An area near the stereo had been cleared for dancing and was packed with bodies moving to the music. There was barely room for Brady to squeeze in, much less the two of them, but still he rested his hands on her hips and pulled her close, close enough that every movement of her body, or his, put her in contact, belly to thigh. He was warm—very warm—and hard. All over. He tightened his fingers on her hips and drew her closer, so her belly rubbed against his groin. She was aware of his cock growing with the contact. Her gaze flicked to his as her face heated, and her sex melted.
He watched her with an unnerving intensity, as if he could see every thought and desire racing through her head, and was ready to make them all come true.

He slid one hand up to her waist so his thumb rode beneath her breast, and she wanted to shift to bring his touch against her nipple, which beaded in anticipation. Just the thought made her breast ache, her pussy contract. He swayed with her, slower than the music dictated. Slow and sexy and seductive. Tentatively, she pressed her stomach against his cock and slid up, then down the length. Heat flashed in his eyes, and his jaw tightened, clearly appreciating her daring.
The look he gave her encouraged her to take it further. She brushed her breasts against the wall of his chest.

“You know, I thought you probably had a great body, but it’s hard to tell with those clothes you usually wear.” He brushed his thumb along the underside of her breast before sliding his hand back to her waist.

She wanted to whimper in protest. Was she not adept at sending signals? “That’s kind of the point.”

“Yeah, but those skirts slay me. Some days all I can think about is getting my hands under them, shoving them all the way up.” His hands slid down the thighs of her jeans, up over her hips, his fingers digging in briefly, pressing her against him.

“Oh!” Her knees wobbled at the thought.

He lowered his head. “I think about putting you on that desk with your skirt around your waist and kissing you till you come.”

“Brady.” His name was a moan, but she didn’t look away. Couldn’t. How many times had she fantasized about the same thing?

“Truth or dare?” The words were a breath over her skin.

“Dare,” she managed.

“I dare you to come into the next room and make my fantasy come true.”

She drew away, just a few inches. “I’m not wearing a skirt.”

“I can work around that.”