Free Teaching the Cowboy by Holley Trent

either terrify the hell out of her, pressed his body flat against hers. Her eyes widened, ostensibly at the dull jab of his cock at her thigh, but she didn’t push him off.
    God, what am I doing?
    He hadn’t felt so sprung since his wedding night, at which point he’d found that waiting had been a highly overrated thing. He wasn’t going to wait again. Screw that.
    He dug his fingers into the hair at the back of her head, giving not one single damn about the state of her tidy bun, and brought his lips down to hers again. She was a mighty good kisser for a schoolteacher. When she wrapped her right leg around his waist and rubbed her crotch against his zipper, he damn near creamed his pants at the friction.
    He stopped kissing her long enough to force a hiss through his teeth, and went right back to it. He didn’t really have a plan. In an ideal world, he wouldn’t be doing her on the sofa, but he had no doubt in his mind that if things were to escalate to the point of nudity, they wouldn’t make it down the hallway before he was inside her. But, fuck, the kids. They could walk in on them any minute. What would they think about their teacher then? The thought did nothing to douse his arousal.
    “You smell so good, Ronnie.” He kissed her chin again and licked down her throat, forcing a shudder from her narrow shoulders. He paused at the second button of her shirt and flicked it open before she could react. By the time he got to the fourth, she’d wised up and grabbed his hands.
    “John—”
    “Shh.” Lacy little peach-colored bra. Everything about the woman was out of place on his ranch. She was too damned fancy. Oh, well. At least she’d come to him that way and hadn’t been made that way by his wealth. She wasn’t a lump of coal he needed to turn into a diamond. She was the diamond already at work filing off his rough edges. She was out of his league.
    He peeled the top of her bra down to reveal brown areole with nipples that seemed to be perked right up, waiting for his lips. He’d hate to disappoint the little things, so he lowered his head and traced around one with the tip of his tongue. He cut his gaze up to her and found her eyes wide, lips parted. Her hands were still clamped around his, but her dismissal had been so weak and ineffectual she might as well had not even tried.
    He licked the other one. There, a matching set, slick from his tongue, and hard as pebbles. He imagined she must have been feeling a little bit like he was at the moment. He squeezed her breasts together and admired the cleavage for just a moment before returning his mouth to its new favorite place. He took one areola in wholly, letting his teeth drag against her skin as he pushed it back out with his tongue and laughed when she squirmed and clawed her fingers into his jean-covered backside. Thank God for denim.
    He flicked open the remainder of the buttons and pulled her shirttails out. “I want to see more of you.” He kissed down to her navel and paused at the waistband of her jeans. He had his thumb on the button, ready to push it through the hole when that goddamned ringtone sounded from his back pocket.
    Rufus, I’m going to kill you .
    He thought about ignoring it. From where he was sitting, he could smell her arousal and knew if he could get her panties off she’d be wet and would offer his stiff cock no resistance as he probed her entrance. He hissed again and fondled the button.
    The phone kept ringing.
    He held one finger up to her and sat so he was straddling her legs when he answered. “Someone died or there’s a fire. Which is it?”
    He flattened his palm against Ronnie’s belly and rubbed up her body to the bottom of her bra, where he splayed his fingers and massaged the soft flesh beneath.
    She flattened her lips into a line. Her glow was wearing off.
    Fucking Rufus.
    His own mood started to sour the longer he listened to his ranch manager talk.
    She tried to sit up, but John put a hand on her shoulder and