~Lyra~
“I’m creative,” I said with a grin that could’ve gotten me suspended from school and excommunicated from church. “And also very committed to your academic success, Mr. Thornvale.”
I dragged my fingers slowly up his chest as I said it, watching the way his body reacted beneath my touch. Every muscle in him tightened like I was pulling strings in all the right places.
His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened. His breath came slower and heavier like he was already imagining everything I hadn’t even said yet.
And honestly, that just encouraged me. Because I could feel it in the air—that slow, dangerous kind of heat building between us, thick and heavy, the kind that makes your chest rise too fast and your thighs press together on instinct.
But I wasn’t done. Of course not. I never am.
