Clara’s POV ♡
The steam from the shower fogged the bathroom mirror as I pushed the door open just a crack, telling myself it was an accident, that I hadn’t heard the water running or seen the light on under the door, but deep down I knew I was lying to myself because my p***y had been throbbing all day from the way Mr. Harlan—Ryan—had looked at me during lunch, his blue eyes lingering on my short skirt like he wanted to flip it up right there at the table and bury his face between my legs.
Now here I was, peeking in like the naughty little girl he made me feel like, and there he was under the hot spray, water cascading down his ripped body, muscles flexing as he ran soap over his chest, down his abs, to that thick, half-hard c**k hanging heavy between his legs, veined and mouthwatering
