At Thei rCommand by Scarlett Sanderson

Chapter One
     
    “Deck the halls with boughs of holly…”
    Hope cringed and ground her teeth in frustration. If she
heard one more Christmas song, she’d scream. She didn’t hate Christmas. Far
from it. But the pesky jingles started in October. By December she was out of
holiday cheer.
    She pushed the button on the radio, switching it off.
Blissful silence reigned.
    Pinching the bridge of her nose to ease some of the tension,
she sighed. This year Christmas frustration came second to a mind-numbing dose
of sexual frustration.
    “Hey, teach.” Ethan St. Claire, object of her sexual
frustration, poked his head around the door of her office and flashed a killer
smile. “Wanna come grab some dinner with us?”
    Her sex swelled. Her nipples pebbled, becoming hard, turgid
peaks begging to be sucked by his lips.
    Embarrassed by her reaction, she prayed he couldn’t see her arousal
beneath her sweater.
    Briefly meeting his eyes, she gathered her papers. “Um,
sure. Just give me a minute to finish up.”
    Ethan St. Claire had been her biggest sexual fantasy since
she was fourteen years old, watching his defined torso glisten with a sheen of
sweat as he mowed the front lawn. A few years older than Hope, and the bad boy
of the neighborhood, Ethan hadn’t even known she existed until his sister was
in a car accident and Hope had been the one to look after her.
    “Why the hell are you working so close to the holidays? I
thought teachers had shitloads of vacation time.”
    Picking up a stack of assignments that needed to be graded,
she stuffed them into her leather satchel. “Because I started later in the
school year, I’m behind with lesson planning and grading.”
    Three months ago, her life turned upside down. Her father’s
heart attack forced her closer to her family. She’d applied for a teaching job
at the local university and moved back home.
    She bit her lip at the little lie she’d told Ethan.
    Yeah, you don’t want him to really know what’s going on
in your head, do you, Hope? You don’t want him to know you are here for him,
that you’ve been craving him for years.
    “You work too hard, teach,” said Ethan.
    His smooth, deep voice washed over her, invaded her senses,
made her nerve endings tingle and her pussy moisten.
    She inhaled and fastened the clasp on her satchel. Since
she’d been home, they’d picked up where they’d left off. An unusual
friendship—the bad boy and the geek.
    Her cheeks heated. She ached for him. She fantasized about
stripping him naked and riding his cock until he spilled his seed deep inside
her.
    “Hope, are you almost done? Because I’m starving here.”
    She rolled her eyes at his impatience and said, “I’m coming.
I’m coming.”
    After tugging on her woolen overcoat, she jammed a beanie on
her head. With Christmas only days away, snow lay thick on the ground. Even at
six o’clock, the temperature outside was biting.
    She walked into the corridor before turning and locking her
office. One of the perks of working in a small university—no sharing.
    “Okay. Ready.” She looked at Ethan.
    He stood idling against the wall, and Hope gave a mental
sigh. Her body became liquid, her pussy throbbed with unfulfilled need.
    As a teenager, he’d been gorgeous. As a man, he was
devastating. Over the years, he’d filled out. A thick, knitted sweater wrapped
his muscular torso. His broad shoulders were encased in a soft, figure-hugging
leather jacket.
    Winter meant he covered up the tattoos adorning his forearms
and chest.
    Such a waste.
    He wore faded jeans that kissed his long, lean legs. She
knew from previous observation the denim cupped his pert ass to perfection.
    It was his face that always took her breath away. Chiseled
jaw, high cheekbones and deep-brown eyes big enough to get lost in. The crew
cut and day-old stubble stopped him from being labeled pretty.
    The whole package screamed raw masculinity.
    She wanted to taste him on her tongue. She wanted to wrap
her