I received an ARC copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This story is one that is not only original and creative, but also sexy and hilarious. Kayti went above and beyond in all aspects.
This tale of hot NYE sex turned sneaky relationship kept me howling at every turn. Spence is pure sex appeal even posing as a student. I do not blame Melissa for wanting to jump his bones. Even teachers need to get laid by their 26 year old students!
I had no clue what to expect, but I was astounded at the quality. This book is great and I will be reading it again next time I need a pick me up.
I am giving this book 5 star because not only did it cause me laugh, swoon and fan myself; I also could not put it down. That is what great books are made of!
Halfway through her first year on the job, Melissa Montclair decides the
best part of teaching is winter break.
And the best part of break is the Perfect Ten she
meets in a bar on New Year’s Eve. Why not celebrate a semester under her belt with a Perfect Ten in her
pants? The one night affair is all she hoped for, until she walks into school a week later and sees Mr. Ten
is Student Twenty-nine on her roll call.
She should be mortified—and she is—but that
doesn’t stop her from banging him again. And again.
And again.
So much for job security.
Posing as an exchange student at Hamilton High is
finally the assignment Officer Spence Vega has been hoping for. Now he has a shot at getting to the
bottom of the town’s recent molly epidemic. There’s only a couple of problems: first, history is taught by
the curvy bombshell he banged on New Year’s. Second, his growing suspicion is that she’s the dealer
he’s looking for.
The job was supposed to be an easy in-and-
out, not the teacher.
If only they could stop getting under the covers,
staying undercover would be so much easier.
I run my hands across the small of her back softly, swaying against her as she arches into me. We
are dancing without music, a sexy tango of clothes and lips. (See what I did there? Tango. Oh wait, that’s
Argentina. Never mind.) And soon she is standing in nothing but lace. I run my hands over the swells of
her breasts and relish in her gasps and moans. She's wound tight, and I plan to play her like a violin.
(That one works much better.) Her bra drops to the floor, and she stands flushed and unashamed before
me.
My teacher. Goddamn. I am going to go home and sponsor two more orphans.
"Take off your panties," I order.
She hooks her thumbs into the elastic and spins in a slow circle, leading with her ass. Slowly, she
slides them down, her shapely ass still in the air, and lifts one leg at a time, my own private strip show.
All we’re missing are the glasses and the chaste updo. Although, truly, I don’t feel like I’m missing
anything. She's totally bare, always a treat, and already I can remember her sweet taste on my tongue. I
pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist, giggling as I spin her around. I set her on the island
and kiss her cheeks, her neck, across her collarbone, and down to those tits I’ve been longing for.
Each nipple pebbles under the warmth of my tongue, like they were waiting for this very
moment.
Like they were waiting for me. The two new orphans I promised to care for. She drops her head
backwards and moans, encircling her arms around my neck. I secure her to me with my right arm and
use my left hand to cup each breast as I adore it with my tongue. I can't stop thinking of what sheer
perfection her body is. She smells like a honeycomb, tastes the same, and her skin is as soft as silk. Our
bodies move together like they were made for one another, calibrated to the other exactly.
It's the most intimate moment I’ve ever shared with someone, and we haven’t even gotten to the
sexing yet. I said I was riding a unicorn before, but this girl is a unicorn.
My cock begins to ache in anticipation, rising again to the challenge. I lay her down gently across
the island, my own personal feast, and bend over her. I can’t stop my hips from moving as I kiss her
again, and work my way back down her body. Past the delicious swells of her breasts, down the tight
curves of her stomach, past her cunt smelling incredibly of her sex. I love on her legs and her calves,
paying special attention to the tender skin behind her knees and on her upper thighs.
She growls playfully, wriggling her body each time my lips cross over the spot she wants me most,
but I don't give in. Instead I give her a single long, slow lick down her blissfully pink pussy and return to
her stomach, then back up to her breasts. Her nipples are tight nubs and I gently bite down on
each.
"Tease," she breathes.
I only grin wickedly at her. After all, she’s the one who suggested that this last all evening.
"Lick me." She’s (impossibly) even sexier when she commands me.
"Only when you beg me." She might be my teacher, but I can show her a thing or two
myself.
She shudders a little. "I never beg."
"Tonight you will."
Kayti McGee is a former Kansas Citian who now follows the Royals from Colorado. Besides writing, her
hobbies include travel, cooking, and all thing Whovian. She also writes as the latter half of Laurelin
McGee. Like her co-author Laurelin Paige, she joined Mensa for no other reason than to make her bio
more interesting.
