Page 33 of Tempt

I have self-control. I’m a goddamned professor. I wear cuff links and pay taxes and make sure my kid doesn’t live on takeout.

My muscles tighten as I spin the dial and let the water turn icy.

I leap out of the shower and go to my room, toweling off on the way.

The sheets are smooth and cool against my hot skin as I shift into bed.

The house is quiet.

Andy’s asleep.

There are no sounds from the bedroom next to mine.

Until I hear it.

Bed springs creaking lightly.

She’s upstairs too.

Upstairs and in her bed.

I’m horny. It’s natural and has nothing to do with her.

She could be right about one thing.

My computer is downstairs but I pull up a porn site on my phone, browsing the categories.

Nanny stuff comes up.

It’s probably a fantasy. Older guy, younger girl he can’t have. This will get it out of my system.

I click on it and watch for a few minutes.

It doesn’t do anything for me.

After a minute, I toss the device on my bed.

I imagine my door opening, her standing in the doorway wearing those shorts and a tank top.

My hand shifts down to grab my cock.

I fist my dick, using the slickness to rub the head.

Then stroke down.

I’d be across the room in a second. Quiet so we didn’t wake Andy on the opposite side of the hall.

I would pull her inside, shut the door behind her.

Then pin her against the wall.

My cock throbs in my hand, appreciation for the fantasy playing out in my mind.

I’d watch those eyes darken in the way they do when we’re alone, only this time, there’d be no interruption.

With every touch, I’d strip away that “don’t give a fuck” exterior and see what’s underneath.

My hand aches, grip tightening.

---