Caitlyn Willows: Dean's List

Leigh was about to start her intro when the blonde leaned closer and whispered something. The man edged away. Leigh watched in outraged shock as the girl plucked her gum from her mouth and aimed for the underside of her desk. The man placed his hand over her arm, gently yet firmly. In command, but not flaunting it. Her heart raced at the possibilities that simple touch created in her sex-starved body.

"Whoa there. What do you think you're doing?" His voice resonated throughout the room and landed right in Leigh's gut, where it quivered like a tuning fork.

God…who is he?

"I was about to ask the same question," Leigh managed to say.

He released the girl and eased back in his seat. Leigh lectured, taking brief discomfort in the flush spreading over the girl's face. She suspected the girl would be gone the first chance she got. Good riddance. Actions like these were the reason Leigh taught college courses rather than lower grades. She hated having to essentially babysit.

Leigh shrugged the incident aside and went on with her introduction, then set the class loose on their first assignment. She wandered as she often did, peeking over everyone's shoulder as she strolled to get a glimpse into what they wrote. It wasn't as if she weren't going to see it eventually. Leigh liked to watch their process. Few things thrilled her more than the touch of pen-or pencil or keyboard-to paper. She studied body language, watching for that first instant when an idea gripped a person. For the most part, everyone embraced the assignment. It was going to be a good semester; Leigh felt it in her bones.

Tonight her goal in wandering the room was duplicitous-she wanted to find out this man's name. Yes, she could have waited for the attendance roster to make its way into her hands. Doing so wouldn't have given her the sweet ripple of sensation at that first subtle whiff of Brut from him. She wouldn't have felt the heat trickle from his body when she neared, or been able to see the flex of muscle in his forearms. Or thrill in the race of his black Flair pen across the white notebook paper. Have the catch in her breath when she spied those first words- The first time I saw her…

Her heart raced and she forced her gaze away from words clearly meant to be savored in the privacy of her own home. Drawing in breath to her oxygen-deprived lungs, her vision settled on the name at the top of the paper. Dan Jefferson.

Dan Jefferson? As in Danny Jefferson?

Her gaze ping-ponged between the name and the man. There was little doubt now. Holy shit, has he filled out well! He'd been a good-looking guy all those years ago. Every teenage girl from miles around found a way to show up whenever he did yard work…shirtless, of course, to soak in the California sun and let the breeze off the Pacific Ocean cool the sweat glistening over his torso. Though eight years separated them, Leigh could certainly understand and appreciate the appeal, especially now.

The first time I saw her, my world changed. She was the light, all that would ever be. My breath, my hope, the path I'd take on the long road to manhood.

Leigh returned to the lectern before someone caught her ogling. The words made love to her. This was wrong. So, so wrong. He was eight years younger than she was. Her student, for God's sake! Yet, in one brief moment of insanity, their tight bond was further sealed. Danny-Dan-had seen Leigh at her very worst. And he'd cheered her on. It was days later when she wondered how much more Dan had seen through those open drapes.

Movement snapped Leigh from her thoughts. The attendance roster appeared before her. She slipped the paper from the woman's fingers with a smile. Leigh recognized her from the Spanish class she'd taught last semester-a divorced mother of three trying to earn her degree in the hopes of getting a better job. She didn't know how the woman managed, but she also knew strength came to a person when they least expected it. That thumbs-up, fist pump, high-five Dan Jefferson had given Leigh at one of the darkest moments of her life had helped give Leigh strength to move on.

Now he was here, in her class, looking like every woman's dream. But not hers. Student, younger. Student, younger. She chanted the words, hoping they would sink into her addled brain and raging libido. She had a hard enough time with men her own age or older, she certainly didn't have the time and patience dealing with someone younger.

Eight years isn't that much older.

Stay to the list.

Age isn't specified on the list.

Leigh hated when the good fairy and bad fairy started to argue in her head. No, age wasn't on her oh-so-important list of things she required in a man. Other things were, like the physical requirements Dan nailed to perfection. And the way he seemed to love to write because that pen flew across the paper.

No, no, no! Student, younger, and you have a past with him. He used to cut the grass!

And did a very fine job of it, too. Excellent work ethic.

Another check on the list.

Dogs, cats, and children had flocked his way then, too. Leigh remembered how his face lit up. He always managed to have time for them all, and still get his work done. He was a magnet that drew a person near. Every living thing wanted to be with him. Just like she did now.

More checks.

Leigh tried not to laugh. She was putting the proverbial cart before the horse. A man like this had a girlfriend, or a wife. Perhaps children, too.

No ring. No wife.

He might not remember who she was. They'd been neighbors for a year, a little less than the length of her disastrous marriage. How many neighbors had he had since then? Probably not many who'd taken a riding crop to a cheating husband and whoring neighbor. Leigh had burned the crop in their barbeque grill after that. She'd never been able to use it after that. What once had given her private pleasure now sparked bad memories. Bert's blood had tarnished the leather, a permanent reminder of his betrayal and her foolishness for not seeing his true colors from the start.

How many times had Dan been witness to those private pleasures? Closing the drapes was part of her routine, but had she forgotten? She'd indulge in the middle of the day, when she was certain Bert couldn't catch her, couldn't humiliate her as he'd done the one time he'd caught her in a moment.

You disgust me.

The words still hurt. They also prompted the number one item on Leigh's list-a man who knew and accepted her sexual needs. A man who would fulfill those needs without question. So far, Leigh had never found that man. She'd also been too uncertain of the reception to ask for what she really wanted. It took tremendous trust to open that door to another person. Leigh couldn't do it. The man on her list would know without being asked. Somehow, some way he'd just know.

Like Dan?

Leigh refused to entertain the idea. Rules were rules. List or no list.

Or maybe he sat there now, remembering what she'd done and judging her, mocking her, sneering at her actions. She refused to entertain that idea, too, despite the inexplicable shame crawling over her skin. She'd done nothing wrong. Nothing. God, the years it'd taken to help her realize that.

One by one, her students brought their papers forward. No surprise Blondie was the first or that she'd barely bothered with a scribbled sentence: I knew the first time my parents told me I'd have to go to college or get a job that this class would suck.

It was going to be a long semester if she remained. Leigh still smiled and thanked her, gleaning pleasure from the fact her lack of anger pissed the girl off.

And then she was down to two students-Dan and a middle-aged woman Leigh believed was Lois. Her heart skipped a beat when Dan ordered his papers and stood. He smiled; she smiled. She measured time in his footsteps tapping a steady rhythm as he walked her way. His scent, his heat. The strength rippling beneath his clothes. Leigh felt like prey-no, like a princess- no! Like treasure waiting to be plundered.