When I ran into a handsome stranger in a coffee shop, I knew he was older than me. But I never expected to walk into class the next day and see him standing at the chalkboard.

Screw me. The handsome stranger is my new professor.

And the worst part? It doesn’t make me want him any less. I’d felt his hands on me once. And I want to feel them again.

I know he feels the same way. Every time we talk it looks like he’s seconds away from slamming my back against the chalkboard. And his gaze always falls to my lips. He even slipped me his number, in case of an emergency.

I know he’s not a good man. He’s warned me as much. I know he’s hiding secrets beneath his dark brown eyes. But every time his fingers trail down my wrist, I know he’s daring me to cross the line.

And I know exactly what I’m going to do when I walk into his office hours…