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Dean's List
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DEAN'S LIST
by
CAITLYN WILLOWS
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.amberquill.com
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Dean's List
An Amber Quill Press Book
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.AmberQuill.com
http://www.AmberHeat.com
http://www.AmberAllure.com
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
Copyright © 2010 by Caitlyn Willows
ISBN 978-1-60272-658-1
Cover Art © 2010 Trace Edward Zaber
Layout and Formatting
Provided by: Elemental Alchemy
Published in the United States of America
Also by Caitlyn Willows
All Four One
Bend Me, Shape Me
The Boys Are Back
Caitlyn's Kisses, Vols. I-V
A Corner Of My Soul
Forbidden Fruit
Graduation Day
The Heartbreakers Series (Books I-IV)
Her Bounty
Hired Hand
Hotel California
Just Partners
Lust Letters
Midnight Rendezvous
One To Grow On
One Touch
Our One True Love
Playtime
Secrets We Keep
Showtime
The Star Series, Books I-V
Tainted Love
Teamwork
Thief Of Hearts
Treasure Hunters
Undercover Lover
White Lies
Chapter 1
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She wasn't his first wet dream...or his last. But she was definitely his best.
Dan Jefferson nursed the hard-on from hell beneath the postage stamp-sized wood that served as a desk. He'd barely been able to fit into the student desks when he was in high school. He sure as hell couldn't do it now at age twenty-eight and bulked up from years serving in the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, especially with an elephantine erection swelling his jeans.
Using his worn three-ring binder as a shield, Dan tried making some adjustments. The gum-smacking blonde to his right shot him a glance, then smiled. She probably thought the hard-on was for her. He winced at the thought. The gum cracking was bad enough, but the multiple piercings, shaved eyebrows, and necklace that said "Fuck You" made even being in her vicinity difficult. The complete opposite of the classic beauty who'd walked into the classroom less than a minute before.
Dan had to blink at the time to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. But there she was--Leigh Miller in all her exquisite glory. Actually, she was Leigh Dean now...or rather, L.E. Dean, according to the class schedule. He'd never learned what the "E" stood for. She'd taken her birth name back, probably after her divorce from that jerk-face son of a bitch she'd been married to.
She'd be thirty-six now, though you couldn't tell from looking at her. She'd pass for ten years younger. Her smile lit up the classroom. Heat basked in his groin. In the short space of time she and her good-for-nothing husband lived next door to Dan's family, Dan had rarely seen her smile like this--bright and open. Maybe that's what divorce had done for her--made her happy. Unless she'd remarried and was so in love with her husband the feeling transmuted everything she did. Maybe she had children, too.
Dan's erection deflated at the thought. Please don't let her be married. He glanced at her left hand--no wedding ring in sight. A woman like Leigh would wear a wedding ring...right? As for children... Dan shook his head, then dashed a quick look from the corners of his eyes to make sure no one had seen him do it.
As far as he knew, Leigh hadn't been pregnant when she and Jerk-face separated. But there were a lot of years between then and now. She could have been married and divorced again with kids on top of it all. That might put a crimp in his rapidly forming grand plan.
Screw it. Dan didn't care if she had twenty kids. He was going to go for it. One thing serving in a war zone had taught him--you only live once; don't live it with regret. And if he didn't go after Leigh Dean, Dan would regret it the rest of his life. What's the worst that could happen? That she'd shoot him down? Well, he'd been shot at a lot over the last several years and had survived. He could survive a blow to hopes and dreams that had actually helped make him the man he was today.
Dan had learned a lot from watching Leigh's marriage disintegrate. There were right ways to treat the woman you cherished. Jerk-face didn't know any of them--not that he even remotely cherished his wife. He knew how to humiliate his spouse and how to fuck the neighbor across the street. That marriage hadn't lasted long either.
Dan's heart had broken a thousand times over at the devastation on Leigh's face when she'd found Jerk-face and what Dan guessed was his latest conquest writhing in her bed. But damn if she didn't go after them good. The two hadn't even seen her coming until the riding crop cut into Jerk-face's buttocks. She whipped them both good and proper, even drawing blood on her errant spouse's bubble butt.
In the aftermath, Leigh had turned her tear-stained face toward her bedroom window. Those big green eyes caught Dan watching the whole scene. Her chin came up in defiance, and Dan did the only thing an almost sixteen-year-old boy could do. He gave her a thumbs-up, pumped his fist in the air, and gave her a high-five she couldn't return. And Leigh had smiled. Nodded. Then closed the curtains, ending his brief stint as a voyeur. He hadn't seen her since. He'd returned from school a couple of days later to find a moving van in the driveway. She'd left Jerk-face to deal with the neighborhood repercussions of his wandering dick. More sweet justice.
Dan was sorry she hadn't stuck around to watch the fireworks. Sorrier still he couldn't see her anymore, wouldn't be able to talk with her as he did so often. He wanted to help her deal with all the hurt and pain Jerk-face had caused, just as Leigh had helped Dan through the grief he'd suffered months before. In truth, she'd been his strength, his greatest confidante, able to sort through the jumble of emotions life brought and understand everything.
Yeah, Dan had missed her something fierce after she left, but he supported her decision one hundred percent. If only he'd gotten the chance to say...a thousand things he'd wanted to say to her. Things Dan didn't realize needed saying until years later, things he hadn't realized, things he lacked the skill to express at the time.
But that was then, and this was now. Fate had brought them together once more. The chance he'd wanted was here. The playing field was clear--he hoped--and they were both adults. Granted there was still the minor issue of eight years between them, but it was just that--minor. He was a man now and she a woman of certain needs; that much he'd figured out for himself over the years. And Dan knew how to take care of those needs very, very well. His cock agreed.
Dan squirmed in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. His jeans weren't cooperating.
"Wanna skip out during break?" the blonde whispered, unleashing a fog of ashes on her cigarette-tainted breath.
Dan leaned away. "No, thanks."
"Are ya sure? Only take a sec."
Yeah...if he was still fifteen and didn't have standards or the notion of what good sex really was. "I'm positive."
She shrugged, plucked her
gum from her mouth, and aimed for the underside of her desk.
Dan grabbed her arm. "Whoa there. What do you think you're doing?"
"I was about to ask the same question," Leigh said from the front.
Dan released the girl and eased back in his seat. The power in Leigh's voice sent ripples down his spine. His imagination flashed on a schoolmarm from the Old West, sweet but stern, reaching for a cane and tapping it against her palm while she pondered her student's misstep.
Take me, baby. Take me now, his cock screamed, pushing for freedom from its jeans prison.
"I'm pretty lenient as teachers go, but come on..." Leigh flicked her palms up. "Gum under the desk? Did I blink and we're all back in junior high?"
A deep flush spread up blondie's throat and covered her face. She glanced down at the gum stuck between her fingers as if debating what she'd do with it now. A tissue fluttered over her shoulder from the middle-aged woman behind her. Blondie took it with a muttered thanks and poked the gum into it, then stuffed it between her boobs.
Classy all the way. Dan bit back the urge to utter the sarcastic thought.
Leigh's demeanor shifted back to happy, as if the confrontation had never happened. The tension in the room faded.
No canings tonight, people. Dan fought a smile. The schoolmarm and the cane...and the cowboy she craved would use it on her.
"Welcome to English Composition." Leigh retrieved a binder from the biggest purse Dan had ever seen and slipped a piece of paper from the front. "I'm Leigh Dean. Leigh. Because we're all adults here, and I'm not fond of division and lording my exalted power as teacher over you."
That earned her laughter from the room, and a little more of Dan's already captivated heart.
She handed a paper to a guy on the first row. "This paper is my roll call. It's simple. Sign next to your name to indicate you're here. No signature means you're absent. If you're absent without cause three times, it's between you and the admin office."
She wore black flats, gray slacks that loved her curvy hips, and a red blouse that skimmed her torso to perfection. Her long blonde hair swung with every move, mesmerizing, tantalizing, and promising full sensual delight to the man lucky enough to park his fingers in its depths.
"You have a text book. Read it. I won't waste class time reiterating what's in it. If you have questions, ask them. This is a required course, and I know that's why most of you are here." Leigh tucked the small binder on the lectern as she stood behind it, cutting off Dan's view and jerking his daydreams and rampant imagination to a halt. "I want to make this course as entertaining as possible. I know some of you would rather chew ground glass than write. Unfortunately, writing is what you're going to be doing. The process will educate you, and some of you might even enjoy it.
"We'll talk about structure and mechanics as well as the writing process. Maybe even share a few stories. If this is not what you envision or want from your educational experience, there is another, more traditional, English Composition instructor at this facility. Feel free to request a change. My feelings won't be hurt."
She scuffed her hands together, green eyes gleaming. "Let's start. Class is normally two hours with one break halfway through. Tonight I want you all to write about firsts. It can be your first anything, but I'd like it to be about something that had meaning for you. When you're done, give the papers to me. This will allow me to evaluate the class as a whole and the educational needs of the group. Once you're finished, you're free to leave, even if it only took you five minutes to write. I will, of course, be noting how much effort you put into this and it will be reflected on your grade."
Leigh cocked her head. Her hair fell over her shoulder down to her breast. Dan's balls clenched. Oh, for the chance to bare her breasts and tickle that hair over her nipples. To see her lips part on a gasp, feel the tension in her body as she bowed into the caress.
"Questions?"
Let me love you, Leigh. The way I know you want to be loved. I promise you won't regret it.
He'd been waiting for this moment and only tonight realized it. Fate had intervened and brought them together in the right place...and, he prayed, the right time.
"Then let's begin," she said. "Be warned...I wander. After all, I have to do something while you're writing." Again, her smile warmed the room.
Dan's brain shut down. He was half-aware that he'd opened his binder to an unsullied piece of notebook paper. His pen hovered over the top line, waiting for inspiration.
Firsts.
The point touched down. The first time I saw her...
By the time he dotted the last period, only he and the middle-aged woman remained. It was five minutes before eight; he'd been writing for an hour. Leigh stood at the lectern reading what he presumed were the other papers. She looked up when he stood, his treatise in one hand, binder in the other.
Her smile was more hesitant this time, yet still open. Dan wondered if she'd read the roll call sheet and realized their connection. Surely, she couldn't have pieced that a bulked up man was the scrawny next-door neighbor from years before. Now that he had her attention and they were virtually alone, what should he say? Remember me? I used to cut your lawn. We shared lemonade, ice cream, and long talks. And, oh, by the way, I was watching you on the most humiliating day of your life.
His bravado took a nosedive. His newborn erection didn't. Thankfully, his binder guarded him well, just like it had in high school. Some things never change.
"All done?" She reached for his paper, slipping it gently from his grasp.
"It's a little long." Dan felt his cheeks heat. Great, now the rest of him was behaving like he was in high school, finding innuendos where none existed. He hoped Leigh didn't think he was being a smart ass.
"Then it must've been a very happy first." Her smile brightened. Her gaze went right to his name at the top right corner.
Some instinct told him she wanted to ask. He'd save her the trouble. "It's been a long time," Dan said. "We used to be neighbors."
"I remember. Hard to forget the best yard worker I ever had."
There was that. Dan had been dedicated to those lawns under his care. "You made the best lemonade."
"Secret family recipe," they said together, then chuckled.
It was nice to have a safe subject they could hide behind, but safe wasn't going to get Dan what he wanted--her.
"I know a great place that has the best ice cream," he said. "Want to go grab a cup with me and we can catch up?"
Her cheeks pinkened as she shuffled all the papers together, but she did keep her gaze on him. "I'm so sorry. College policy forbids any type of fraternization between student and teacher."
"Ah, I see." Dan nodded. "Well, see you tomorrow night." He headed toward the door and lifted a wave her way. She waved back and turned toward the older woman bringing her tome forward.
Not a yes, but not exactly a no either. Rules were rules. If fraternization wasn't allowed between student and teacher, there was little else Dan could do--he grinned--except switch to a different teacher.
Chapter 2
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Leigh dreaded the first class of the semester. Strangers filled her room with uncertainty. There were a few people she'd taught previously in other classes. Those with whom she'd formed a rapport and they'd fallen into the easy rhythm of an established relationship. It was the getting-to-know-you stage that always put her on edge. It wasn't so bad one-on-one, but in a class of thirty adults--or wannabe adults as the case might be with the blonde faux-Goth girl--it was a daunting task. Still, she pasted on a smile, projected openness, and prayed the transition would be seamless.
Unfortunately, she knew from the start where her first problem lay--the gum-smacking blonde putting it on for the to-die-for man sitting across the aisle from her. The girl, who Leigh suspected had recently graduated from high school and was making a big show of how grown up she was, laid it all out for the man. If she pulled her skin-tight black T-shirt any lower, her boobs would pop out
. But the man didn't take the bait. He barely glanced the blonde's way. His eyes--a soft brown that looked like melted chocolate--stared exclusively at Leigh.
Her heart raced at the attention. There was a familiarity to him she couldn't quite place. Had they met before? Surely she'd remember. A man like him wasn't forgettable. His brown hair was military short. Given the population of the area, Leigh tagged him as a Marine, maybe Navy. A former student? No...she'd remember a guy like him. He made the student desk look like it came from a kindergarten class, though, considering the college's funding issues, that could very well be the case. The desks were hardly comfortable, yet there was no hint of complaint from her hunk.
The man reeked of self-confidence and managed to keep his ego in check as far as Leigh could tell. He wore jeans and a pink pullover shirt that looked killer-hot on him.
Now that took guts. Only a strong man could pull off a pink shirt in the good-ole-boy military, or anywhere else for that matter.
The thought made her smile. She forced her gaze away from the lean muscle cutting his biceps and arms, away from his broad shoulders, and long legs. Away from speculating how tall he was, how great it would feel to rest her head on his hard chest. Away from the heat in his eyes that perked up her nipples and stirred the juices deep inside her until they wicked into her panties. And yet her gaze lingered at long fingers on big hands, hands that could cradle a woman, rock a baby in comfort, provide a haven for puppies and kittens. Hands that knew what hard work was all about and wasn't afraid to do it. Callused fingers that would skim a woman's curves and show her what pleasure was all about.
Leigh was about to start her intro when the blonde leaned closer and whispered something. The man edged away. Leigh watched in outraged shock as the girl plucked her gum from her mouth and aimed for the underside of her desk. The man placed his hand over her arm, gently yet firmly. In command, but not flaunting it. Her heart raced at the possibilities that simple touch created in her sex-starved body.