In what's become her favorite class, Jaycee Hanson sits behind Tyler Johnson, ROTC captain and star of most of her erotic fantasies. She doesn't think he'd ever be interested in her, because in all the time she's been watching him, she's never seen him in the company of a white woman. She resigns herself to her thrice-weekly fantasy session during Psych 301.
But when an accidental touch near the end of class turns into an impromptu foot rub, Jaycee is more than willing to follow Tyler wherever he might lead. She doesn't expect the stairwell.
Tyler isn't sure what to make of the woman in his arms. She's smart as well as beautiful. If he'd had any idea before today that she was interested in him, he would have made a move, but each time he looked her way in the past, she avoided his gaze.
Objections to their relationship come from an unexpected source, causing Jaycee to second-guess herself. She and Tyler have more than sexual chemistry, but will it be enough?
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from At Ease by Olivia Brynn
Oh my God, Tyler Johnson is touching me. Jaycee melted into her chair. She etched each sensation deep into her mind, vowing never to forget these few moments, knowing that she would pull the memory out in the future to keep her warm on a lonely night.
Cordell continued his lecture, but the professor's voice was smothered by the pounding in her ears. Students took notes and asked questions, all while Tyler made love to the sole of Jaycee's foot. Hands that talented on a foot could do one hell of a job on other parts of her body. She squeezed her legs--pressing the swelling folds of her sex together to rein in the flaring need for a touch--and white-knuckled her desktop to keep from sliding out of her seat.
For once, she didn't want class to end.
But it did. As the rest of the class packed up their supplies, Jaycee sat frozen in her chair. She tried to free her foot from his grasp but he wouldn't release her. Even when their fellow students stepped over her legs and squeezed around his to exit the theater.
The door closed behind the last student and the sudden silence engulfed them. Jaycee pulled on her foot, and this time he let her go. In a flash he was on his feet, arms braced on the back of his seat, leaning over her knees.
Oh God, he's so close. Jaycee suddenly felt very small and weak. Her first impulse was to tear off her clothes and throw herself at his feet like some sexual sacrifice.
His eyes flashed, dancing over her from head to toe before meeting her gaze. He licked his lips and Jaycee's mouth simultaneously went dry.
"I like your foot." Those were the first words he'd ever spoken to her, but it didn't matter what he said. The baritone snaked around her in an almost physical caress.
This was all a bizarre dream. Tyler Johnson couldn't possibly be mere inches from her. Alone. She couldn't think of a word to say. She opened her mouth, but closed it when he spoke again.
"I want more."
There was no misreading the pure lust behind those dark eyes. Jaycee's nipples, already straining against her bra, now beaded even tighter, enough to make her shudder. "More?"
Tyler nodded. A slow, measured movement of that gorgeous head. "I like your foot. I want more," he repeated, this time dropping his voice a decibel. Low enough for Jaycee to think of a smoky blues club and a tenor saxophone. "You've been driving me crazy, you know?"
"Me?" Jaycee hated sounding like an idiot, but this had to be some dream. If she had fallen asleep during Psych 301, she was probably drooling on her desk right now. She needed to wake up.
"Yes, you. I can smell you, I can feel your heat, but you avoid me like the plague. This is the first time you've looked at me directly. You always come into the classroom after me, leave before me--"
"I...didn't think you noticed."
He didn't respond right away. He took a moment to caress her with his gaze, settling on her lips first, then her trembling breasts and back up to her eyes. With a predatory smile, he leaned over her desk, close enough to speak directly in her ear. "I noticed. Come with me."
His face was hovering over hers, and she couldn't even see him clearly. Come with me. It wasn't really a question. Why did she stumble over a response? Her first thought was "why?", but the fire behind his eyes left no question. And then came "where?", but she didn't really care. Finally, the devil that had been sitting inside her waiting for the chance to pounce came to the surface. She knew it was the devil, because before she could control it, a smile spread sinful heat across her face and she answered, "Yes."
Tyler straightened, the lust in his smile sending a jolt of excitement through her. He snapped his textbook closed and Jaycee struggled to shove her notebook into her satchel with her hands shaking as they were. After a few twisting stabs with her foot, she was able to get back into her discarded flip-flop without looking like too much of a spaz. She took a few restorative breaths before looking up to find Tyler looking put together and composed in his dress blues, his books packed away into a simple backpack slung over a shoulder, hooked by one finger. His other hand reached for hers and he led her from the classroom just as students for the next class trickled in.
Her knees wobbled and she cursed her inability to control her body. His hand was so damn warm on hers, strong and wide, engulfing hers with an urgency that sent her libido into overdrive. He strode down a hallway and she almost had to take two steps to every one of his.
"Where are we going?"
He didn't answer until he dragged her into the stairway and found a dark corner beneath the concrete stairs. "I'm in uniform."
As if that should explain everything. But Jaycee didn't have time to question him before he pressed her body against the cool cinderblock wall with his hard chest. He dropped his backpack beside hers and his mouth came down, stifling any question she might have.
He moved his hands up to grip her shoulders. She could feel the imprint of each of his ten fingers, the heat searing her skin beneath her tee shirt. He smelled exotic and exciting, with a musky masculine cologne that reminded her of a men's fashion magazine. His tongue was thick, and the way he moved it inside her mouth weakened her knees. She joined the dance with a desperation that she couldn't disguise and had no desire to. His mouth was cool and minty. How did she miss seeing him pop a breath mint?
"You taste damn good, Jaycee."
He knows my name. Only after hearing it did she realize that she'd never given it to him. The fact that he knew it without her telling him took the meaningless flirtation into a new realm. Now it was personal. She let her eyes drift closed, wallowing in the sound of her name coming from those lips moving against her cheek.