Chapter 1

"Cole is doing an excellent job so far, Mr. Vaughn," said the pretty young teacher. She smiled, with such directness, such sincerity, that Casey couldn't help but believe her.

He smiled back. "Thank you, Miss Perkins, and please... just call me Casey," he said. It was a relief to know that Cole was doing so well in the structure of a classroom.

"He's doing very well with his letters, have you been working with him?" she asked, crossing her shapely, long legs as she did so.

"Yes, I've been trying to. To be honest though, I'm not sure how much he's absorbing," gulped Casey, eyes traveling up those beautiful legs. Eye contact, he reminded himself, make eye contact. It was an effort to remove his attention from the hemline of the short, gray wool skirt, where he wanted to linger, and imagine the sweetness just a few inches farther up.

Their eyes met and she winked, as if reading his thoughts, before seductively re-crossing her legs.

"Well... Casey..." she said in a conspiratorial tone. "I'm going to let you in on a secret." She leaned closer, and he caught a whiff of her musky perfume, which made his head spin. "He's four," she whispered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that her blouse had come unbuttoned when she leaned forward, and he wanted to push the silky fabric off her shoulder and see what lay beneath. But through sheer will, he returned her gaze, and laughed, a smoky, sexy chuckle that seemed so out of place here - a preschool classroom, seated at a child-sized table, discussing his four-year-old's adjustment to preschool.

She straightened up, still unaware of the gaping button, and said lightly, "Four-year-olds have notoriously short attention spans. But you'd be amazed at how much they catch when you think they're not listening."

He knew she was right, and nodded his agreement. It didn't seem to be a problem, but Casey had to ask, "He's not having trouble getting along with the other kids, is he?"

Concern lit up her green eyes, and Miss Perkins straightened up further in her tiny chair. "Oh, no," she said, shaking her head vehemently, causing the soft brown curls to bounce happily, practically begging Casey to run his fingers through them.

He was visibly relieved, and sighed. "Great, I mean he's having such a hard time with his mom leaving, I just..." his words trailed off when Miss Perkins picked up his hand and stroked his thumb. An erection immediately began stirring in his pants, and he squirmed.

"Casey," she began quietly. "I know it's been a tough situation for both of you..." she stopped and looked at their hands: hers with their short, painted nails, stroking his rough, work-worn ones. His palms were sweating, she realized, and he was shaking.

"I'm sorry," she said. "That was terribly unprofessional." She released her grasp and folded her hands primly in her lap.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Casey spoke. "Miss Perkins, I..."

"Susan... please call me Susan," she interrupted with a shy smile.

"Sorry... Susan... I... I was just going to ask if maybe we could continue our discussion over dinner tonight," he said hesitantly. It was dangerous ground, bordering on unethical, and he knew it all too well. But he'd been fighting his attraction to her since the day he first brought Cole into this classroom, and the moment she put her hand on his, he knew she felt it too, and was not about to let the moment pass.

Her green eyes flickered with uncertainty and she raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure... I mean, we probably shouldn't." She was obviously torn, the polished reserve about to crumble.

"I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be sorry, I just don't think it would be proper," she explained with a disappointed frown.

"See, Susan, I thought there was something between us just a second ago, and I know it's probably not right and all, but I am really attracted to you, so I had to ask." He stood up to leave, thankful that his boxers and the relaxed-fit work pants he wore would at least partially conceal the erection still growing inside.

In a heartbeat, she was in front of him, blocking the door. She locked it before turning around, holding a hand up in a signal for him to stop.

He did, and watched in wonder as she realized for the first time that her blouse had come unbuttoned. She looked down with an embarrassed smile, then up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I felt it too," she whispered. "And I'm disappointed that you'd give up so easily."

He closed the space between them and brought her to him in a fierce collision of mouths and bodies. He cautiously parted her lips and was welcomed by her warm, sweet mouth. He delved deeper, their tongues dancing a seductive, passionate dance.

He caressed her ass with both hands, but the combined restriction of pantyhose and her tight skirt served only to make his cock jump in frustration.

Had Susan not made the first move, Casey might've been content to let the dinner invitation and her subsequent rejection slide, chalk it up to an oh-well-I-tried, and get on with it. But here she was, this amazing, beautiful woman, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding her hands inside, sending shivers through every part of his body. Proper, indeed.

He took her brazen exploration as an invitation to go further himself, and hiked the short skirt up on her thighs, pinning her against the wall with his hips so his hands could roam higher still.

She moaned, feeling his heat through the layers of clothing, and just as his fingers found her swollen bud, sheathed in its nylon captivity, she grabbed hold of his shirt and dragged him to her desk, clearing away the clutter with one smooth swipe.