I was hella hormonal. I overcooked my eggs this morning, I missed my midday class while I stared at the view of Adair out my office window and I rounded my block twice before parking after I got off from work.
I must be ovulating.
That is the only reason I can think of as I descend the stairs with fresh out-of-the-shower hair and sleeping shorts.
I open the door with no mental image of who it might be, and come face to face with my six-foot many-inch tall, blue-eyed student in nothing but a white-T and grey jogger he makes look slutty...
And I don't think I've ever wanted a piece of anything this bad.
My teeth come down on my bottom lips unconscious, as I try to bite down the urge to jump him.
Art’s jaw clenches as he examines me, his fresh musky scent wafting into my nose. As hard a
