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Authors: Stacy Gail
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cone.
His expression was surprisingly solemn as he came to a stop a respectable two feet away from her, his hands behind his back in a nonthreatening stance. “Your wish is my command.”
“You don’t say.” She couldn’t help but smile as insane possibilities flooded her mind, none of them professional and some potentially illegal in a few states. She could hardly be blamed for it; with him looming over her, she felt downright petite. The fluorescent lighting threaded blue-black highlights in the unruly waves of his thick hair, and the citrusy-clean scent of the soap and cologne he used was enough to make her want to lean in and breathe him in. She took pleasure in how the muscles bulged and shifted with his every move, and the comfortable way he held himself—not posing to show off a physique any bodybuilder would have been proud of but rather with a natural, loose-limbed grace. Who knew confidence could be so sexy?
Sexy ...
Ella’s smile faltered as that single, hitherto-lost word from her vocabulary made a bold comeback. Well, well. She really had come a long way.
It took a monumental effort to turn her attention to the awaiting class. “Just like when we were kids playing Let’s Pretend, the first step is to decide who’s going to play the bad guy first. Don’t worry about taking that role on, as we’re going to be switching off several times throughout today’s class. Since this is my class I’m going to take the decision out of Nate’s hands, and designate him as Creepy Bad Guy. Sound good, Nate?”
“Not really.” When the class laughed, apparently as under his spell as she was, he turned to the room and spread his hands wide, a beseeching pose that showed off his magnificent deltoids and biceps. “Can anyone come up with another label that’s more appealing?”
“Hero material?”
“Swoon-worthy?”
“I like centerfold, myself.”
“Creepy Bad Guy’s going to have to do.” With her class threatening to derail—in part because she was drooling over him as if he were earth’s last piece of cheesecake—Ella put on her stern face. “Take a second to sort out who’s going to be the victim and who’s going to be the aggressor. And as for you...” She turned her steely gaze to Nate, who straightened up, soldierlike.
“Yes ma’am?”
Heaven save her from that pseudo-innocent look. She stifled a sigh and lowered her voice so that only he would hear her. “Silly me. And here I was, fretting about putting you on display.”
He leaned down so he could look her right in the eyes, and she was grateful he couldn’t hear the sudden drum roll of her heart. “No worries, Ella. You can do whatever you want with me.”
The drum roll became a twenty-one-gun salute. She knew exactly what she wanted to do. Push him up against the mirrored wall behind him, perhaps turn him around so he could watch the slow, deliberate slide of her hands down the sculpted terrain of his chest, past the barrel-thick ladder of his rib cage to the flat, undoubtedly ridged plane of his abdomen. The need to feel skin against skin would be irresistible, and she would slip her hands under the hem of his shirt to press against the warmth of his taut stomach. Then she would let her fingers invade under the waistband of his shorts and thrill at finding his sex stiff and ready as she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him until he cried out...
“Ella? You okay?”
Searing heat stung her cheeks and scorched the crevice between her thighs. Quickly she dropped her gaze before she completely lost her mind and made the fantasy a reality. Wow. So that was what happened when she went without acknowledging the male of the species for a couple of years. Who knew she was a prime candidate for raging nymphomania?
“Sorry. My mind was...” In your pants . “Elsewhere.” She couldn’t even think about meeting his black-magic gaze as she tried to find the emergency brake on her lost control. “What I’d like for you
His expression was surprisingly solemn as he came to a stop a respectable two feet away from her, his hands behind his back in a nonthreatening stance. “Your wish is my command.”
“You don’t say.” She couldn’t help but smile as insane possibilities flooded her mind, none of them professional and some potentially illegal in a few states. She could hardly be blamed for it; with him looming over her, she felt downright petite. The fluorescent lighting threaded blue-black highlights in the unruly waves of his thick hair, and the citrusy-clean scent of the soap and cologne he used was enough to make her want to lean in and breathe him in. She took pleasure in how the muscles bulged and shifted with his every move, and the comfortable way he held himself—not posing to show off a physique any bodybuilder would have been proud of but rather with a natural, loose-limbed grace. Who knew confidence could be so sexy?
Sexy ...
Ella’s smile faltered as that single, hitherto-lost word from her vocabulary made a bold comeback. Well, well. She really had come a long way.
It took a monumental effort to turn her attention to the awaiting class. “Just like when we were kids playing Let’s Pretend, the first step is to decide who’s going to play the bad guy first. Don’t worry about taking that role on, as we’re going to be switching off several times throughout today’s class. Since this is my class I’m going to take the decision out of Nate’s hands, and designate him as Creepy Bad Guy. Sound good, Nate?”
“Not really.” When the class laughed, apparently as under his spell as she was, he turned to the room and spread his hands wide, a beseeching pose that showed off his magnificent deltoids and biceps. “Can anyone come up with another label that’s more appealing?”
“Hero material?”
“Swoon-worthy?”
“I like centerfold, myself.”
“Creepy Bad Guy’s going to have to do.” With her class threatening to derail—in part because she was drooling over him as if he were earth’s last piece of cheesecake—Ella put on her stern face. “Take a second to sort out who’s going to be the victim and who’s going to be the aggressor. And as for you...” She turned her steely gaze to Nate, who straightened up, soldierlike.
“Yes ma’am?”
Heaven save her from that pseudo-innocent look. She stifled a sigh and lowered her voice so that only he would hear her. “Silly me. And here I was, fretting about putting you on display.”
He leaned down so he could look her right in the eyes, and she was grateful he couldn’t hear the sudden drum roll of her heart. “No worries, Ella. You can do whatever you want with me.”
The drum roll became a twenty-one-gun salute. She knew exactly what she wanted to do. Push him up against the mirrored wall behind him, perhaps turn him around so he could watch the slow, deliberate slide of her hands down the sculpted terrain of his chest, past the barrel-thick ladder of his rib cage to the flat, undoubtedly ridged plane of his abdomen. The need to feel skin against skin would be irresistible, and she would slip her hands under the hem of his shirt to press against the warmth of his taut stomach. Then she would let her fingers invade under the waistband of his shorts and thrill at finding his sex stiff and ready as she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him until he cried out...
“Ella? You okay?”
Searing heat stung her cheeks and scorched the crevice between her thighs. Quickly she dropped her gaze before she completely lost her mind and made the fantasy a reality. Wow. So that was what happened when she went without acknowledging the male of the species for a couple of years. Who knew she was a prime candidate for raging nymphomania?
“Sorry. My mind was...” In your pants . “Elsewhere.” She couldn’t even think about meeting his black-magic gaze as she tried to find the emergency brake on her lost control. “What I’d like for you
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