“By the way, how do you prefer it: on top or on bottom?” A velvety baritone voice caresses and intoxicates.
I don’t even understand the question right away, and when I finally do, I flare up so fiercely that my cheeks go hot and my ears burn.
“What do you think you’re doing, Igor Andreevich?” I manage to blurt out, breathless from a heady mix of confusion, fear, and some sharp, sweet arousal.
The man looks at me, surprised, and then smirks.
“About the shelf, and what did you think, Smirnova?”
God, right now I want to be on the other side of the world—or fall through the ground—and there howl from shame.
He is that irresistible, captivating man that every woman dreams of, while I’m just a gray mouse and a tightly wound honor student. And besides, he’s my dean, which means that there’s definitely nothing that can be between us. But one night changes everything!