Teach Me

Crap! Being alone with Galen Forsythe in his small, cozy office was something Lydia had hoped to avoid. Her defenses were so low she wasn't sure she could keep up the pretense of indifference she'd so carefully cultivated. She was humiliated enough that her brain had flat-lined during the exam. She didn't need him to know that the mere sight of him made her want him. He was so bloody handsome with his golden brown hair just starting to go silver at the temples and his piercing blue eyes. He was tall, with the build of someone who'd played football in high school or even college and who'd worked hard to stay in shape ever since.And oh, gods, his scent! She walked beside him down the hallway and up the stairs to his office trying not to notice the aroma of male musk and sandalwood. She'd never figured out if it was soap or shampoo or cologne but the fragrance of sandalwood clung to the man more consistently than even his favorite camel-hair blazer. And that fit like it was custom-made.

Galen reluctantly pulled back and ran his hand through the silky strands of her hair, carefully disentangling the now useless rubber band that had bound it into a tail.A ponytail. Oh, gods, she was so young. Young enough to be his daughter! What the hell had he just done?"You're thinking too much." Her voice was still soft and sweet but the wry humor he'd been so drawn to in class was back, even though her eyes were still closed."Lydia - I - this..." He had no earthly idea what to say."Don't. Please don't ruin this." Her voice cracked.Not the tears again. He could handle anything but those. If she cried again, he'd end up taking her home and locking her up in his house where no one else would ever have the chance to hurt her again. And he couldn't, just couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to her.He pulled her to her feet, to stand in the vee between his legs, then he hugged her close to his chest."Nothing could ruin this. What just happened will always be one of the mos

The cards slid through her fingers easily as she shuffled - old familiar friends. Her grandmother had taught Lydia to use them from the time she could talk. Some of her earliest memories were of sitting around her grandmother's kitchen table, peering into teacups and learning from the tea leaves or watching while Granny did palm readings and Tarot spreads for the neighbors.Finally, Lydia stopped shuffling, cut the deck and eased her breath out through her nose. She focused on her life and her future. And she willed the cards to show her the best path for her to take.She had flipped only one card when she heard the knock on her door. Her hands stalled and she glanced down at the card, her heart rising into her throat. The Hierophant. Also known as the High Priest, or the Pope. It was often used to denote a mentor or teacher. A wise, tradition-bound older man. She could never look at the card without envisioning Galen's golden hair and blue eyes, even though that wasn't what the pict

There was only one hallway, so she giggled and pointed. Galen strode swiftly down the short corridor and nudged the bedroom door open with a foot. Then he moved to the bed and carefully set her down. She sprawled on top of the comforter, leaning back on her hands. Her splayed legs had to give him a clear view of the soaked scrap of cotton between her legs. For her part, she kept her eyes glued to his physique as his hands settled on his belt buckle."You're sure?""Absolutely," she assured him. "Come to bed, Galen." She licked her lips as he began to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper on his jeans. He pushed his jeans and boxers down in one movement and toed off his sneakers and socks. Lydia just stared. He was even more magnificent than she remembered. How had she managed to get even the head of that into her mouth? She wasn't entirely certain it was going to fit in her cunt but she was damned sure going to make him try.They hadn't turned the bedroom light on, so the flicker

Wednesday morning, Lydia stared at the pile of photocopies on her desk, closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened them again, the papers were still there. Damn it. One of her first assignments as curator was to inventory the collection and compare it to the official catalog provided by the Kroner estate. It seemed everyone knew Professor Kroner had gotten a bit dotty in his old age, except her. The man had already been retired by the time Lydia came to SMU, so she'd only met him once at a fundraiser. None of the selection committee who'd hired her had bothered to inform her that the collection might be a little messed up.Messed up was an understatement. Not only had the old guy created his own unique filing system that she was just beginning to decipher but there were more books and scrolls in the boxes than could be accounted for on the list. So lucky, her, she had to figure out the provenance and value of all the leftovers before she could have the fun of really digging