Two Wild for Teacher: Lone Star Lovers, Book 6 (2 page)

Mace cleared his throat, drawing her attention. Before she had a chance to sink into his brilliant blues, he reached out his arms. “Let me take that box for you.”

“No need,” she said, wheezing a bit because she couldn’t manage a deep breath with both of them towering over her. “I need the exercise. Home’s not far.” She knew her voice was a little shrill, but she couldn’t help it. She needed them gone before her cheeks heated until they were as purple as sugar beets and she really started to sweat.

The Logan boys, these particular two, were trouble with a capital
T
. Any sensible woman would steer well clear of them. A teacher with a pesky morals clause in her contract had even more to worry about.

“I swear I can manage this box on my own. Always have.”

Mace gave her a crooked smile. “Didn’t say you couldn’t manage it on your own, ma’am. But why deprive us of a chance to do a good deed?”

Stiffening her spine, she gave him her best “teachery” steel-eyed glance. “You’re here to do a good deed? Why do I suddenly feel like an old lady a Boy Scout’s about to help cross the road?”

“Oh, you’re not old, Miz Pritchet, and we’re not Boy Scouts,” Jason piped in, probably to get her flustered because she had to look left and right to hold this conversation. Her foot stumbled on a rock and she fell forward.

Hands reached to grab the box, another slipped around her back.

Breathless and embarrassed, she let go and tried to straighten away from a hot palm that branded her lower back.

Jason bent toward her while Mace juggled the box. “I know you’re a little flustered, but if you’d quit fightin’ us, this’d be over so much quicker,” Jason whispered then gave her a wink.

Molly gulped, cheeks aflame, but gave a terse nod and lifted her chin. “Your hand is no longer needed,” she said, her voice clipped.

“Fair enough,” he said with a wicked waggle of his eyebrows, slowly sliding his hot palm away.

Pushing her dark-rimmed glasses up her nose, she backed up one pace, then whirled on her heel and stepped out again, leaving both men to follow in her wake. “Well, seeing as how you were both so insistent…” she threw over her shoulder, “…don’t dawdle!” She picked up her pace, arms swinging, angry with both of them, angry with herself for letting them get under her skin.

It was just like her first year teaching. She’d been fresh out of college, eager to take command of her first classroom and both Logan boys had landed in hers. They hadn’t lingered in the back like most of the football players—no, they’d taken seats at the front. Their handsome faces had greeted her with smiles and compliments every morning. She’d begun every day gritting her teeth because she couldn’t suppress the heat in her cheeks or the breathless hitch in her voice that their attentions brought. Back then, they’d been beautiful young men, horny and popular with the girls—not so much with the girls’ parents because they could tempt an angel into parting with her wings. They’d turned their considerable charms on Molly, making the ninety minutes they’d shared a constant trial on her nerves.

No doubt, they’d done it on purpose, to test the new teacher. She had never been so glad to have a semester end.

Still, until they’d graduated, she’d had to endure seeing them in the hall, knowing their interested stares followed her. She’d dressed as frumpily as she could bear, foresworn makeup, all to discourage them.

They were just too handsome, too cheeky. And she’d been all too aware there weren’t that many years between them. Just five. Something the boys teased her about.

The last few months they’d been in school, they’d begun to drop hints that they’d like to see her—after they weren’t jailbait anymore, but she’d had better sense. Even though they likely had more experience than she did in the sex department, she was starkly aware of how a relationship with two former students would look. Despite their sly and charming efforts at tempting her, she’d remained firm.

Unfortunately, it seemed time hadn’t changed them a bit. They may have left boyhood firmly behind, but they still liked to tease her to the point of exasperation.

And Lord, she wished she hadn’t noticed they weren’t boys anymore. Both were tall and their rangy frames had filled out nicely. Any woman they passed couldn’t help but pause and watch, be she ten or a hundred. They knew their attraction and took full advantage of it. She’d heard the rumors of their sexual exploits. Apart, together—they only had to give a girl a sly wink to have her sidling their way. Then it didn’t take more than a sexy smile to have her panties around her ankles—an image which shocked Molly because it came so readily to mind.

No, she was not imagining it was her. How ridiculous would that be? Her, standing in broad daylight with lacy pink panties pooled around her feet.

And yet, what made it so real, so tempting, was that she knew if she wanted it, all she had to do was signal them with a crook of her finger. One lazy summer afternoon spent between the sheets with the Logans might just get the yearning out of her system.

The thought lodged tightly inside her head. But then another, of her getting naked with two perfect specimens of manhood, splashed cold water all over the dream.

She could never stand to be just another one of their conquests—even if they only intended to tease. They couldn’t be seriously thinking about doing anything more. They had their pick among the female population. She wasn’t the prettiest or the shapeliest. Sure, she was smart, but men like the Logan twins didn’t prize a high IQ. What they wanted was a woman with a single-word vocabulary.

So, why did the word
yes
feel as though it sat perched on the tip of her tongue, ready to take flight? Was it because she didn’t have a boyfriend or plans for a romantic summer? Until that moment, she’d been happy about that fact.

Molly’s house loomed in the distance and she sped up again, trying not to think about what they might be looking at. Her butt might be a little soft, but there was muscle underneath. She lifted her arms and power-walked the rest of the way home.

Chapter Two

Jason couldn’t get enough of watching the flex of Miz Prichet’s ass. It was delectable. Not a word he often thought, but then, Miz Pritchet had been his and Mace’s English teacher, and he’d learned a whole new vocabulary in his quest to please her. She still inspired him, so it seemed.

Mace turned his head toward him. “Do you think she knows we’re checkin’ out her ass?”

Jason flashed a grin. “Why do you think she’s walkin’ so fast?”

“This might be harder than we thought,” Mace muttered. “She didn’t seem happy to see us.”

“Told you just because she was single didn’t mean she was desperate. A woman like her has a lot to offer a man. Why the hell would she want us? We have to convince her we’re serious. That we have plenty to offer a woman like her.”

Mace grinned. “Maybe we should kidnap her.”

Jason gave his twin a scowl. “Just ’cause it worked with Ellie doesn’t mean it would with her. She’s a lady.”

Mace’s eyes narrowed. “And Ellie’s not?”

“Ellie’s…earthier.”

“Earthier?” Mace chuckled. “You’re just brushin’ up to talk to Miz Pritchet.”

“So what if I am?” Jason said, tucking his thumbs into his front pockets. “It’s gonna take more to impress her than givin’ her a wink.”

Mace’s grin dimmed. “Man, maybe we should’ve asked Killian for some pointers.”

“Let’s just stick to the plan.” And they were running out of time to put it into motion. The schoolmarm’s house was just ahead. A quaint little clapboard house, painted a pale blue, a shallow garden of flowers flanking both sides of the front porch and rose bushes climbing a privacy fence. The grassy lawn, however, looked in need of a good mowing.

The woman they both watched so intently bounded up her front steps and fished in her purse for her keys. She looked in a hurry to get the door open and to get them out of her hair.

“One good thing,” Jason said, eyeing her flushed face.

“What’s that?”

“We bother her. Has to mean somethin’.”

Mace snorted. “Might just mean she wants us gone.”

“Might mean she’s more attracted than she wants to be.”

They shared a glance, both starting to smile again.

Mace pursed his lips and began to whistle.

Jason ran up the steps and reached out to take the keys she’d pulled from her purse. Her mouth dropped open, no doubt to deliver a set-down, but he tugged on the keys. She held firm. So did the set of her pretty, lush lips. He pulled again and she let go, but her chin rose higher, two spots of red blooming on her cheeks.

He unlocked the door, pushed it open, and then held it for her to enter first. “You just tell us where you want us to put the box.”

She shook her head. “I’ll take it. It’s going in my office.”

“Which way’s that?”

“Upstairs, but—”

Before she’d finished the thought, Mace brushed past her and headed straight up the stairs.

Jason followed on his heels.

“Boys! I said I can manage.”

Her shout sounded more like a wail, and he nearly laughed. But he hid a smile and turned to find her right behind him. “But why should you have to?” he asked. “It’s no bother.”

“Well it shouldn’t take two of you,” she huffed.

He arched an eyebrow. “Sometimes, ma’am, it does.”

A scowl furrowed her forehead, and she raced up the stairs then pushed past both of them to quickly close her bedroom door, but not before they’d gotten an eyeful.

Miz Pritchet’s bedroom was a sultry surprise—rich red bedspread, the covers mussed and turned back, a slinky pink nightgown tossed over an arm chair. Fresh flowers on the dresser, a vanity covered in perfume bottles and feminine items Jason couldn’t wait to sniff and explore.

“My office is down here,” she said, glaring at them through glasses that made her eyes look larger.

Still smiling, the men trailed down the soft, pale beige carpet toward the door she held open.

Mace settled the box atop the cherry-wood desk and stepped back. Both men stared around the room. The walls were covered with pictures of smiling young faces, her students.

This woman needs to be a mother
, Jason thought, and knew by his brother’s satisfied expression that he was thinking the same exact thing.

“Thank you for your help,” Miz Pritchet said, slightly out of breath, her hands folding over her middle. “I appreciate it very much.”

She was dismissing them. Her intent was clear.

Mace tipped his hat. “It was my pleasure, ma’am.” His words caused her blush to intensify.

Jason gave her a wide smile. “Be seein’ you, ma’am.”
And sooner than you think.

Turning on his heel, he whistled all the way down the hall and stairs, all the way out the front door, which he closed softly behind him.

“Yeah, we made the right choice, bro,” Mace said, meeting his gaze.

Jason was pleased by the stubborn set of his brother’s jaw. Mace was every bit as sure Miz Pritchet needed them in her life.

“No doubt about it,” Jason murmured. “Never saw a woman who needed a man more. Two of us’ll be more than she can refuse.”

Mace nodded, then blew out a deep breath. “But how we gonna convince her?”

Jason took a look around her spotless front porch and raggedy yard. “I have an idea. We’re about to become indispensible.”

Mace’s gaze followed his, glancing at the thick Bermuda, the flowers, then locking gazes again. His eyes gleamed with humor. “We’ll have her so flustered she won’t know which end’s up.”

Jason chuckled. “Oh, she’ll know. The trick’ll be gettin’ her so she won’t give a damn.”

Molly felt more herself as she took a long, cool shower. She stood under the showerhead and let the water beat her head, long enough her toes were wrinkled and her mind was blank.

However, her traitorous body was slow to let go of the arousal both men had stoked. As she slicked rose-scented soap over her skin, she massaged her heavy breasts, pinching the tips now and then to keep them throbbing. She slid a hand between her parted legs and glided fingers between her folds, felt the ripened nub at the top and swirled around and around it until her breath caught and held.

She rubbed a moment longer, but fingers weren’t enough. Hers were too soft, too slender. She craved something substantial pushing up inside her.
Damn them.

Breathing hard, she turned the tap to add a distinct chill to the water, then pressed both hands against the tiled wall. At last her heart slowed to its usual, unnoticeably steady beat. She switched off the cool water and reached for the fluffy towel hanging from a peg beside the door. She held it to her face, drying her eyes and cheeks, and inhaling the reassuring fragrance of the springlike conditioner she used in her wash.

Nothing teased her senses. Not a whiff of male cologne or musk.

Now, she was ready to start her summer. And she had plans. This year, she’d put in more flowers, maybe dig a bit in the backyard and put in the koi pond, something she’d dreamed about doing and had already begun to assemble the things she’d need to complete the project. On her salary, it was a splurge, but it wasn’t like she didn’t have the money in the bank to handle it.