He closed his eyes to turn the image to that of a blank wall, to keep himself under control."I'm sorry, Adam. Am I boring you?" The teacher's voice in...errupted his thoughts. "Would you like me to set up a nice bed in the back of the room for you to take a nice nap in?" Miss Shelly was one of his least favorite teachers. She taught English, and while she was attractive, she had a poor attitude, and she dressed as unflattering as possible. Today she had her nearly black hair tied back into a bun. His soul called to me, soothing all that had been by nothing more than sheer existance. ‘Can’t seem to stop touching you,’ he murmured, skimming his fingers over my skin. Silk and lace, satin and steel. And I thank the powers that be for this crisis, because his touch, the compulsion within him that drives his hands to my body again and again is my salvation. It seems there was no breath, no heart beat before his heat, nor would there be after. I meet his gaze again and again, his brooding. More

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