Chapter 2
Driving away from the faculty lot, Saylor forced her eyes from the rearview mirror.
Watching him lope away like a predator pushed her arousal higher than the edge she’d tried to ignore all evening.
A honk from behind at a stoplight when the light turned green reminded her to focus on the road. She always stayed vigilant.
When the garage door slid shut behind her, Saylor relaxed. She was home. Deciding to leave her work in the trunk until tomorrow, she headed inside and entered the code to turn off her alarm before rearming it.
The cool colors of her house relaxed her. She loved the calming blue walls and the oak trim that made this place feel like home. The interior wasn’t the trendy gray or white neutrality that appeared in so many decorator magazines. That cold look didn’t inspire her artistic side.
After drawing the blinds, Saylor flipped off the lights and walked to her bedroom.
She stripped off her clothes and tossed them into the hamper before walking into the bathroom, turning on the shower to warm.
Quickly, she brushed her teeth while she waited.
Her phone buzzed, capturing her attention.
A text popped in providing the names and contact information for Max’s leadership.
Saylor didn’t plan to communicate with them, but she’d found living close to base, having that information had come in handy for good and bad reasons.
A memory of Max’s chiseled strength popped into her mind.
She popped herself on the forehead to banish it and stepped into the shower.
The last thing she needed to do was to moon over the rugged handsomeness of a student.
An inappropriate relationship with a student, even a capable adult like Max, could cause problems for her career.
With everything else screwed up in her life, Saylor didn’t need to shoot herself in the foot and take away her professional reputation.
Water coursed over her body, rinsing away the day.
She ducked her head under the spray, allowing the soothing liquid to wash away the lingering tension headache.
Despite teaching for several years, the first day was always nerve-racking.
Adults were always easier than kids, but she could never count on having a good group until she spent time with them.
Pumping shampoo from the dispenser, Saylor lathered her long blonde tresses.
She scratched her scalp lightly to rub away the last of her tension.
With a sigh of relief, she leaned her head back to rinse the lather from the wet strands.
Another first day was over. Saylor wondered if that anxiety ever disappeared completely.
She shook her head, figuring it never did. Teaching a new group was always intriguing. She’d never had a class similar to the last. In a course built to welcome everyone and advance the skills of beginners as well as skilled artists, Saylor tailored her instruction to what her students needed.
After squeezing the bulk of the water from her hair, Saylor grabbed some of the lavender bodywash she loved. Smoothing the silky cleanser over her skin, she inhaled the fragrance. Whether or not the herb relaxed her, Saylor enjoyed the scent.
As her hands slid over her body, an image of Max crossing the room completely nude rebounded into her mind.
The play of his honed muscles under his battered skin had mesmerized Saylor.
Max in motion was grace woven with power—completely addictive.
Assured and at ease despite his exposed body, Max had seized everyone’s attention without trying.
A pin drop would have clattered loudly in the silent classroom.
She’d sat down as quickly as possible to disguise the fact that her knees had faltered.
Her pencil had flown over the paper, trying desperately to capture his essence.
Je ne sais quoi. The French phrase, I don’t know what, describing a certain something that couldn’t be defined but made an impact, perfectly matched his allure.
With the injury and the proof of his heroism carved into his skin, Max wasn’t classically handsome, but he was more.
Her fingers slid over her bare pussy, sliding into the slick juices welling from her aroused body.
She explored her pink folds, imagining his huge hands touching her so intimately.
The tingles built deep inside her as her legs wobbled from the intensity of the sensations.
With a low moan, Saylor pressed her shoulders to the cold tiles to stabilize herself.
In her memory, her gaze slid over his broad shoulders and down his torso.
His butt was round and muscular. She’d instantly imagined grabbing his ass as he rammed into her.
And then he’d turned. His cock rested heavily on his thighs.
Seeing it was thick and long even at rest, Saylor suspected he would be a demanding lover who gave back to whoever was lucky enough to warm his bed.
She pressed two fingers into her slick entrance with a groan as she brushed her thumb over her clit.
So on edge, Saylor had come almost instantly, biting her lip to keep from screaming.
She felt instantly ashamed that she had treated Max like a sexual object. She was no better than the students she kicked out of class for commenting on someone’s body. Even if every woman and some men had gone home to jump their partners, she should have operated at a higher level.
His direct gaze rebounded into her brain as he’d offered to walk her to her car for safety. Max was dangerous. A combination of irresistible allure and disciplined manners, he checked every single box on her dream man list. But he was a student and therefore off limits.
Saylor turned to stick her face under the spray in an attempt to clear her thoughts. For now. He wouldn’t always be in her class. Saylor wasn’t teaching next semester. She washed her face and pretended she hadn’t thought of that.
Quickly, she finished her shower and pulled on her oversized nightshirt. Sliding under the covers, Saylor crashed into a deep sleep. Max appeared frequently in her dreams. Deliciously.
* * *
The next week, Saylor looked up to see Max walk in as the fifth person to arrive in class. She nodded at him and took several quieting breaths to slow down her heart rate. Just another student.
He prowled to the chair he’d abandoned last time to sit on the model’s stool on the dais.
She couldn’t describe his movement in any other way.
For an immense man, Max moved with the grace of a dancer—light on his feet and perfectly coordinated.
Over the course of the last week, she’d caught herself several times wondering what job he had on the special forces team.
Now that question crossed her mind again.
Teaching a course on human artistry, Saylor had sketched many different body types.
Never had she felt regret that she stood in a classroom as a student removed his clothing.
Even seriously wounded and scarred from past injuries, Max’s body had evoked a response in hers.
The sensuality of his movements and bearing revealed the dominance he would demand during sex.
She tried to ignore her rapidly dampening panties. Tonight would be a very long class.
Saylor grabbed the box of poseable figurines and tape measures she’d borrowed from the art department storage room for tonight’s class.
While the drawings of Max had impressed her, one item many had struggled with was proportions.
Tonight, she’d decided to allow students to figure out how to draw a human figure correctly to scale.
Walking around the room, she deposited both items along with two cards for the students to record their results. She had a feeling that the card would become a staple in their artistic toolbox. Her cheat sheet from years ago had fallen apart, but the information lived forever in her mind.
Max looked up as she stopped at his table to leave the equipment. “Proportions tonight?”
“I guessed you’d had this lesson before. Will you let your partner discover the information that’s helped you?” Saylor asked pointedly.
“Definitely. That knowledge is a game-changer. You got my text?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I did. Thank you.” Saylor moved on to the next table without adding anything else. He never could know how much she’d struggled not to answer when his message had popped up on her phone. A conversation once started with him would be difficult to end.
Discreetly, Saylor watched Max from the corner of her eye as she set up. This fascination she had with Max was irresistible. While she had to maintain her distance, Saylor couldn’t resist watching and eavesdropping.
“Hey, Max. How are the ribs?” Sara asked, walking toward him.
While Saylor had already publicly corrected her own misinterpretation of Sara’s gasp as Max undressed, Saylor made a mental note to apologize privately for suspecting the worst from Sara when the female student had reacted to Max’s injury. The two seemed friendly.
Great, they’re bonded now, Saylor thought cattily before rolling her eyes at herself. Max isn’t for you. Sara seems nice. Be happy for him.
“Hey, Sara. I’m better. Thank goodness I don’t have to take my shirt off tonight. The green camo my skin has become wouldn’t make pretty pictures.”
Sara laughed easily. Glancing over, Saylor noted the laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. Sara must lead a happy life.
“Want to be my partner tonight?” Max asked Sara.
“Oh, we’re doing something fun, I see,” Sara said, waving a hand over the items on the table.
“Yeah. That’s what I figure too.”
“Thanks for the invitation. I’d love to work with you. I’m crossing my fingers that Saylor isn’t going around the room clockwise. That would make me next. I’ll be honest that my husband wasn’t happy to think I’d be naked in front of a bunch of people.”