Fake Marriage Box Set

“My God. Jake needs to take lessons from his big brother,” Maria said, picking up a magazine to fan herself. “I won’t be home tonight. Jake is going to be a busy boy. I am going to give him a few pointers.” She winked.

I laughed before waving goodbye and heading out the door. I hoped Maria wouldn’t give Jake the play by play. I’m sure the last thing Ian wanted was his brother talking to him about his performance in the bedroom. Although, he should be mighty proud. He was a skilled lover.

I steeled myself before entering the classroom. I knew the moment I saw him; I was going to have an urge to rip his clothes off and jump him where he stood. I felt a bit like a tigress. It was a new feeling and one I was actually enjoying, despite it being a bit torturous to be so close to him and not be able to kiss him or run my hands over his butt before grabbing his balls.

“Stop it,” I scolded myself before I walked through the door.

He was at his desk. The moment our eyes met, that earlier feeling returned and I had to force myself to walk by him.

“Hi,” I said.

“Good morning,” he replied in that husky tone that told me he was as turned on as me.

Today, I had purposely dressed to tease him. I knew it was dangerous, but yesterday he had complained about my jeans. Today, I wore a flowing blue dress with no panties. I felt extremely daring, but realized it could have been a huge mistake. Looking at him got my juices flowing.

I quickly sat down and crossed my legs, willing my body to settle down. I felt flushed and had to fan myself. I could feel his gaze on me. He knew. The man knew what he was doing to me and seemed very pleased with himself. I guess it was payback for yesterday. He hadn’t been able to leave the shelter of his desk for both classes.

When he stood to begin his lecture, I had to look away. If I looked at him, I was sure I’d burst into flames. Then everyone would know.

“Miss McShane!” I heard my name. He was yelling at me. Why?

“Yes?” I said, trying to rewind the last couple of minutes. I had spaced out and not heard a word he said. My mind had been in the gutter since the moment I woke. It had only gotten worse with full-blown fantasies playing out in my head.

“The quizzes from yesterday? Do you have them?” he asked, his tone irritated, but his eyes saying otherwise. He knew he had caught me. That little twinkle in his eye that said he knew exactly what I had been doing made me blush. It was only a little embarrassing to be caught fantasizing by the person you were dreaming of ravishing.

I quickly looked away, stood, and grabbed the tests. I can’t look directly at him. I looked over his shoulder. “They’re right here. Did you want me to return them?” I asked in my best assistant voice.

“Yes, please,” he said, stepping into my line of sight. I looked away again, but not before I caught him grinning.

He was going to pay for the hell he was putting me through. I took my seat and managed to avoid looking at him for the rest of class. It was horrible. I wanted to look. I wanted to stare at his ass and imagine ripping the buttons off of his shirt in a state of furious passion.

As soon as the last student left the room, it was I who slammed the door and locked it. He had been at the back of the room, putting away his props from his lecture.

He turned and looked at me stalking towards him. “Tessa,” he started in a voice full of warning. “The windows. We can’t.”

I didn’t stop walking. I reached him, grabbed his hand, and dragged him towards the tiny door in the back of the room. It was a storage closet, smaller than my closet at home, but it was a door, and it would provide privacy.

I swung the door open and pushed him inside with my hand against his chest.

“Tessa,” he protested, but it was a half-ass attempt to stop me. We both knew it.

I pounced. My lips pressed into his, grinding his teeth against his lips. I felt him jerk back in pain for a split second before he took over. I was out of control with need. His tongue was dancing with my own, our bodies pressed together partly because of the tight quarters and partly because I wanted to crawl on him.

His hands squeezed my ass through the thin fabric of my skirt. I pulled back enough so I could speak. “I’m not wearing any panties,” I whispered.

A feral sound escaped from his lips a second before they crashed into my own. Now it was me wincing from the pressure of the hard kiss. His hands were busy pulling my skirt up. Once his hands landed on my bare ass, the intensity of his kiss kicked up another notch.

“Fuck, Tessa, you’re killing me,” he moaned, squeezing one cheek and moving his other hand down my thigh.

Our kiss changed from passionate to one of ardent need. Neither of us could get close enough or touch enough. It was all roving hands and lips. I wanted to taste every inch of him, but the tiny closet brokered little room for true exploration. His hand was cupping me under my skirt, teasing me with its closeness, but he refused to give me what I was dying for.

I rubbed against his hand, asking in the best way I knew how: without actually saying the words.

I felt him smile against my lips. “What do you want, Tessa?”

I kissed him back, gyrated again.

He trailed a finger between the folds. “This,” he whispered. “Or this,” he breathed a moment before he pushed one finger in.