My name is Kai, twenty-one, and I was barely passing literature because of Mr. Reece.
He was thirty-three, tall with broad shoulders that stretched his button-up shirts tight across his chest. Dark hair always a little messy, sharp jaw, and eyes that felt like they could pin you in place. When he lectured, his deep voice filled the room and made everyone sit up straighter. But lately, those eyes kept landing on me. Longer than on anyone else. My stomach would tighten every single time.
I sat in the third row so I could watch him without it being too obvious. The way his forearms flexed when he wrote on the board. The way his pants hugged his thighs when he leaned against the desk. By the end of every class my c**k was usually aching, pressing against my jeans, and I’d have to stay seated
