“Ahh, Ms. Dawson, anything I can assist you with?” I ask, hoping she’ll say yes.

I can hear her muttering under her breath before she answers. “First of all, cool it with the Ms. Dawson crap. You know my name. Use it. And second, unless you want to come over and shake your hips with Beto, then no, you can’t help me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my workout.”

Umm, did she just invite me over to hang out with her and a dude named Beto? No, thank you. “You have fun with him all on your own. Although, it’s apparently not a very good ‘workout’ if you’re answering the phone right in the middle of it,” I tease her, hoping that once she’s done she’ll toss this one to the curb.

“Christ, you’re an idiot. Workout was not a euphemism for anything, Montgomery. I’m doing Zumba in my living room if you really must know, and Beto’s the lead instructor. I swear, you men… Always thinking with your little guy downstairs.”

I’m relieved to know that I didn’t just interrupt her mid-coitus with a Latin lover. “Um, excuse me, but there’s nothing ‘little’ about him,” I tell her. “Plus, if you get to keep calling me by my last name, then Ms. Dawson is most certainly not off-limits.”

She sighs into the phone then responds after a few silent seconds. “Okay, Kale,” she says, emphasizing my name. “Is there a point to this phone call? My heart rate’s already lowering too much.”

Somehow I avoid making a promise about increasing her heart rate in the bedroom. “Go out with me tonight.”

“I’m busy,” she says, not skipping a beat.

I don’t skip one either. “With what?”

“Grading papers.”

“Do it tomorrow.”

“Busy then, too.”

“Doing what?”

And it happens in just a split second, but the moment she hesitates, I jump on it.

“Ah-ha! See, you are free tomorrow, meaning you can grade homework then and go out with me tonight.”

“If I agree, will you let me finish my work out?” she asks, and I know I have her. Hook, line, motherfreaking sinker.

“I’ll even let you shower afterwards,” I offer, grinning.

She laughs into the phone. “You’re so kind. All right, fine. Tell me when, where, and I’ll meet you there.”

I contemplate on it a little bit before answering her. “My place. Seven p.m. I’ll text you directions.”

“Umm, no way, Kale. I’m not meeting you at your place. I’ve seen you all of two times in my life. I don’t care how right Lily might be about how awesome and protective you are, but you’re pretty much a stranger, and well, that’s just a horror flick in the making.”

“Lucy, meet me in my driveway. If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll go out. If you’re not, we’ll stay in. Simple as that. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

I can practically hear the wheels turning in her head as she thinks on it. Finally, after what feels like a million years she answers me. “Fine, Kale. I have nothing better to do anyway.”

Ouch. The girl pulls no punches. I think Ms. Lucy Dawson and I are definitely going to get along.

“Neither, do I, Lucy. Neither do I.”

We finalize our plans and then hang up, and I realize I’m looking more forward to the evening than most of my random lays.

Lucy

WHEN KALE called, I’d just barely had enough time to get home, change, and start in on my Zumba DVD. I wasn’t exactly surprised when I heard his voice on the other line. The heated, albeit surprised, look in his eyes when I’d said I wasn’t looking for a relationship hadn’t gone without notice, and I figured I’d be hearing from him sooner or later.

The end of the school year is right around the corner, and after Eric, a good old-fashioned summer fling sounds like the perfect way to spend my time off. I usually pack up and head to Florida to work in the family restaurant my mom and stepdad, Steve, own, but earlier this spring, they had a massive hurricane blow through. Their place received so much damage that they had to close, and they don’t think they’ll be back open until mid-summer. Mom told me not to worry about it, to just spend my summer back up here. I think she basically knew I’d get in the way, and I understand that. Still, Mom and I are close, and I hate that she’s going through this stress, but if anyone can get her through it, it’s Steve.

Checking my Garmin, I realize I’m at my destination. I study the house as I pull into the driveway. It’s a one-story ranch, a light tan color with dark green shutters. It’s cute and nothing like my small, cramped, two-bedroom apartment with a living room barely big enough for me to do my exercise videos in.

I flip down the visor to make sure that my eyeliner isn’t smudged, and that my lip gloss is fresh. Once I’m satisfied, I slip out of my car, smooth out my plaid skirt, and make my way up to the front door. I’m about to ring the bell when the door swings open and Kale leans against the doorjamb, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s checking me out. Try not to judge me, but while I love the buzz Channing gives me, I’m longing for something hard and thick to get me off, preferably with the ability to thrust on its own.

I realize I chose this outfit perfectly because Kale’s licking his lips as his eyes sweep down my body. Okay, so I may be playing on his fantasy with my black-and-white plaid skirt. I have my best push-up bra on because I’m definitely not blessed in the breast department, and Victoria Secret’s been my best friend since I graduated high school. My black blouse is buttoned up just to the bottom of my breasts, and the lace of my camisole I’m wearing underneath is barely covering my chest. My black boots cover my legs all the way up to my lower thighs, making it so there are only a few inches of skin you can see. That doesn’t seem to bother him though, seeing as how he can’t take his eyes off them.

You’re probably thinking I look a little more like a sexy student, right? I used to think the same thing until I Googled dirty teacher porn. It’s practically the same thing, except for the teacher, you throw on a pair of rimmed glasses and forget the pigtails, and if you’re feeling extra frisky, you add a ruler. I figure Kale and I need a few nights together before we get to the whole spanking thing.

While he’s taking me in, I decide to check him out just as shamelessly. I wasn’t wrong when I assumed that he has a hard body. Dark, stone-washed jeans lie low on his hips, and a gray muscle t-shirt hugs every single ridge and outline of his toned torso. His arms, while ripped, aren’t huge, and I’m a-okay with that. Overly muscular guys give me the heebies. Nope, Kale’s the perfect amount of tone and tightness, and when I look up at his face, the hot look of desire in his eyes has wet heat flooding in between my legs. Thank principals for Bring Your Daddy to School Day. He has a slight five-o’clock shadow that’s extremely sexy, and for a split second, I think about his face between my legs, the roughness pressed up against me.

Suddenly he breaks out into a wide smile, and those dimples deepen. “Come on in, Ms. Dawson. I’ve been waiting for you,” he confesses, and while I’d normally think that phrase would sound creepy, it has the opposite effect coming from Kale. Like he’s Dracula and he’s hypnotizing me, forcing my legs to move towards him. Before I cross the threshold, I catch my bearings and remember that Dracula was a creep. Definitely not of the Salvatore variety. I take a step back, and he frowns at me.

“My best friend Charlie knows exactly where I am. I texted her your address and told her to check in. If I don’t answer, she’ll know something’s up and come kick your ass. She can do that. I’ve seen her do that whole kickboxing thing and take men down,” I say quickly, realizing I probably sound like a paranoid lunatic.

Kale laughs as he crosses his arms, staring at me. “Charlie? Charlie Davenport, Charlie?”