1
Miriam
How in the hell is it so hot outside? The Midwestern sun isn’t supposed to bake you like a potato in mere seconds, but here I am, properly baked after the short trip from my car to the house. Pushing open the heavy oak door to my two-story Tudor home, I sigh with relief as the blast of cool air hits me.
“Thank God for air con.”
How people can work in this heat is beyond me. As a teacher, I get to enjoy temperature-controlled rooms, and I’m on summer break just as the A/C units start struggling to keep up. Not that I don’t enjoy warm weather, because I definitely do. I love summer, even when it’s baked-potato-hot. I just don’t love it when I’m wearing a dress, nylons, and heels.
Pausing to kick off my favorite pair of Steve Madden pumps, I revel in the feel of the cold tile under my stockinged feet as I make my way into the kitchen. I love my house. It’s exactly what I pictured living in when I decided to move to this mid-size Midwestern town for a teaching job. Granted, it was only a substitute gig, but I’d just spent all morning interviewing for a full-time position and crossing all my fingers and toes that I’d get it so I don’t have to live off my savings until something else comes along.
I wrinkle my nose as I pull the material of my black sheath dress away from my stomach, trying to get it to unstick. A shower is definitely on the top of my to-do list after I grab some lemonade. Talking about myself and my goals for hours completely dehydrated me.
After downing half a glass, I sigh and peer out my back window…and see a muscular shirtless man leaned over the edge of my pool, using his hands to cup water and dump it on his head. A spike of adrenaline hits me, afraid some vagrant has broken into my backyard. But then I notice the design on the T-shirt hanging from the back pocket of his very worn—very tight in the ass—jeans. It’s the logo for ABC Landscaping, the company I hired to spruce up my yard. Shit! I completely forgot they were supposed to be starting today.
Smiling, I lean against the counter and enjoy my lemonade along with the show. It’s been two years since my last relationship and I’ve never been comfortable with using apps for hookups or even finding another boyfriend. Students like to Google their teachers or stalk their social media for any gossipy tidbits, so it’s safer to rely on meeting people the old-fashioned way. As if anyone has time for that. All of which means it’s also been a good two years since I’ve had sex. My libido is practically screaming at me to pounce on the fine specimen in my yard.
Apparently the hand-cupping just isn’t doing enough because Mr. Sensational Back (I haven’t seen the front yet, but that goal now ranks above taking a shower) plunged his entire head into the water. I hold my breath right along with him, absently biting my lip as I watch the muscles in his back ripple. Then, like a GQ model in a poolside photoshoot, he whips his head back, and I swear to God, it happens in super slo-mo. A thick line of water arcs in the air from the ends of his dark brown hair, then he runs a hand through it, slicking it back before dunking his T-shirt in the water and squeezing it out over his shoulders.
I have no idea how long I stand in my kitchen perving on my landscaper, but it’s long enough for the waistband on his low-slung jeans to turn dark from his efforts to cool down. And now I feel like a huge jerk because it’s hotter than Hades and the poor guy is just trying to avoid heat stroke, not give a live peep show to his sex-starved client.
Shaking myself out of my stupor, I pour another glass of lemonade, then head out the French doors onto the patio.
“I am so sorry. I had an appointment this morning that went longer than expected. Not that it matters because I also forgot you were coming today, but if I’d been here earlier I could’ve offered you—”
The man rises to his full height—damn, he’s tall—turns around…and my jaw drops. Because the man isn’t a man at all. He’s a boy. More specifically, one of my students.
Devin “All-American” Adler.
Valedictorian for his graduating class, captain of the football and men’s swim teams, devilishly handsome, gorgeous brown eyes, and a smile that drops panties within a hundred-yard radius.
He also made sure to use an innuendo with me at least once a day for the entire second semester I taught his Economics class. Innuendos that kept me up some nights, wondering…
Stop that train of thought right now, Miriam. He. Is. A. BOY.
Except there’s nothing about Devin Adler that says “boy.” Everything about him screams “I’m man enough to know exactly what to do with you and make you beg for more.”
He aims that single-dimple, killer smile in my direction—and of course the front of his body is even more amazing, complete with a sexy dusting of hair on his chest and abs—and it does things to my belly it has no business doing.
“Hey there, Ms. Fox.” Somehow he makes a casual greeting sound like he’s undressing me with his words. “I’m here to take care of your needs.”
“My n-needs?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“Yeah, you know, your landscaping needs.” He smirks in that cocky way of his that he probably patented by the time he was five. “But if there’s anything else you can think of that’s not on the original quote, I’d be happy to accommodate whatever needs you have.”
Oh, holy shit. I’m in so much trouble.
2
Devin
Miriam Fox. Substitute teacher and harbinger of wet dreams for every male—and a few female—second semester economics students. I, for one, had multiple daily jerkoff sessions imagining fucking her tight body six ways from Sunday.
The kicker was, I knew she was interested in me, too. She never said or did anything inappropriate, but I was about as subtle as a jackhammer. I blatantly flirted, no matter if we were surrounded by people or I managed to steal a few minutes alone with her. And every time, desire would flash in her gray eyes right before she averted her gaze and pushed her black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose in that nervous way of hers that drove me crazy.
The day Ms. Fox stepped in as our sub for the rest of the year, none of the girls in my class held any interest for me. All I wanted was her, and I made it my mission to have her before I left for college. When I learned my dad’s landscaping company was scheduled to work on her yard towards the end of July, I had my mission date.
“You look the same,” I say, raking my eyes down her body appreciatively.
“Pardon?”
Miriam’s only twenty-six but sometimes when she’s in her role as teacher, she speaks like she’s twice that. And I’ll be damned if I know why, but her prim-and-proper demeanor wakes the animal inside me.
Since she appears to be rooted to her spot, I take slow steps in her direction. “It’s the middle of summer break, Ms. Fox. I thought you’d look different, more…casual. But you look like you just stepped out of a classroom.”
Raising a hand, she self-consciously tucks a strand of blond hair back into her bun. She wore her hair up in some style or another every day. It made my fingers itch to plow through it until it fell around her shoulders.
“I don’t dress like this at home.” She pauses like she’s not sure if she wants to explain further, then says, “I had an interview today.”