In His Eyes (Interracial Erotica)

Bree Kingston bit her lip as applause erupted from the crowd as she concluded her presentation. Two and a half years of teaching smart ass high-schoolers who cared more about twitter and the clock reading 3pm made stage jitters damn near irrelevant. The heat that radiated over her body had less to do with her lecture on engaging a new generation and getting them excited in the classroom and more to do with Callum Rhodes.
As he gazed up at the stage with his piercing green eyes, she jetted back to her first day at Jamison High. She was fresh out of Baylor U., suddenly worrying if she was really ready to stand in front of a class and wrangle the inner city students that were looking at her like she was fresh meat.
When some kid named T-bone tryed to 'holla at her', Callum's voice had rumbled just behind her, sending the kid off to class. Even then her attraction bloomed between her legs when she took him in. He had golden skin and an easy smile. When her eyes took note of his wavy brown hair and muscular physique beneath his Jamison Phys. Ed tee and jeans, she knew that the teacher fraternization rules were created because of guys like him. Guys that looked at women like they were the only person on earth. She'd stammered a hello and he'd introduced himself. Her arousal had turned to guilt when she saw the wedding band gleaming on his finger.
He'd been off limits, but she found that she searched for any reason she could to cross paths with him, having lunch the same period as his, volunteering to be on committees he signed up for, always making sure her clothes, her hair was on point. Two and a half years later and he had a tan line on his left finger where that ring used to be. He was finally untethered. Ripe for the taking.
She did a weird bow combo and her kitten heels clacked as she walked to the wings of the stage. Once she was out of sight, she breathed in and out, nice and deep. She gripped the table behind her and swiped a bottle of water, chugging it, trying to relax. It didn't do anything to quench her real thirst, her real desire.
She wanted Callum to pull her close, raking his fingers through her dark, wavy hair, even though she'd spent almost an hour flat ironing it to make it fall just so. She wanted him to kiss her, breathe her in, even though she took her time outlining her plush lips. She wanted him to unzip the side of the cotton candy pink dress that hugged her curvy frame, regardless of the fact that she'd gone without for the pricey frock, all out of fool's hope. A hope that he'd get to the heart of her, strip off her lacy strapless bra and thong, and look at her with his emerald eyes as he drunk her in with his gaze before his hands took over.
Those strong, sure hands that drilled the boys P.E. class on the track would run a circuit up and down her bare ebony skin, clutching her breasts, flicking at her chocolate nipples. It would be so hard to breathe as his hands continued to blaze downward, over her stomach, down and around to the curve of her bottom. He'd clasp her ass tight as he drew her in for another kiss. He'd taste so spicy, with hints of cinnamon and musk, that Irish Spring soap aroma wrapping her in an embrace as warm as his arms.
She'd trail her hands down his ripped chest, pausing when she hit the dark tuff of hair that fanned out before she hit his groin. He'd be as hot for her as she was for him, his cock already swollen, ready for what came next.
The bottled water would go flying as he lifted her and laid her out, the flimsy table standing in for the countless daydreams she'd had as she sat behind her desk, praying for a day when he'd come in and show her that those dimples, the way he licked his lips when he saw her, were all signs of the attraction on his end as well. He wanted her just as bad.
She'd lean back and spread her legs, her lust wafting out as he inhaled as he stroked his erection and stepped forward. He'd look down at her, his eyes so rife with passion. With want.
"Bree," he'd whisper. "Bree..."