Excerpt of At Ease by Olivia Brynn

There he was.

Jaycee almost stumbled down the aisle to her seat. Three days a week during Psychology 301, she sat in the same chair in the auditorium. Partly because she was a creature of habit, but also because every day he sat directly in front of her, and with the sloping seating area, she had a great view. Today was Friday, the day of the weekly Air Force ROTC morning meeting. He still wore his dress uniform, which meant that she wouldn’t retain one word of the psychology professor’s lecture in the next ninety minutes.

He looked good.

Okay, he looked great. She barely dropped into her chair before her knees gave out. Just about every man alive earned a few hottie points when he wore an Air Force uniform, but Tyler Johnson didn’t need extra points. He looked good whether he wore his Texas Tech sweats and a tee shirt, blue jeans and an oxford, or hell, probably nothing at all.

Jaycee bit her lower lip to stifle the groan. She knew the man was built. Even though the starched uniform covered him from neck to toes today, the tee shirt he wore two days ago had done nothing to conceal every muscle in his hard upper body. She closed her eyes for just a moment and savored that memory. His ebony skin stretched taut over corded muscles in his triceps, the one part of his body that she could freely stare at from her vantage point. They flexed and bunched, his left hand curled around the paper in front of him as he scrawled.

The door near the whiteboard closed, and Jaycee had to open her eyes and rejoin the living. Professor Cordell checked his belt buckle and tugged on the sleeves of his tweed jacket, just as he always did before class.

"Who can tell me the role the hippocampus plays in an epileptic’s seizure?"

Cordell somehow knew where each class left off, and picked up two days later as if no time had passed. Those who had textbooks opened them and flipped through the chapters, the rest of the class pulled out their laptops, and a low hum of business filled the room.

There must be a bike race somewhere--the six bike team members that usually surrounded her and Tyler were absent, leaving a nice bubble of privacy in the upper corner of the auditorium. Now she could look her fill without fear of discovery.

Tyler thumbed through the pages of his thick book. His nails were neatly trimmed, his fingers long and slender. Their dark color intrigued her. What an erotic picture they would make against her white breasts. Or the way their naked legs would look twisted together. Against her white sheets. No…she’d need silky red sheets.

Oh yeah.

She squirmed in her seat, slipped off her flip-flop so that it wouldn’t accidentally fall off, then crossed her legs. Her bare toes came so close to the crisp collar of his shirt she could feel the heat coming off of him. Yes, the shades of their skin complemented each other.

If she wiggled her toes, she would brush the crisp shoulder seam on his uniform. She wouldn’t dare, but it was tempting. She licked her lips and stuffed down a groan.

"So, without a hippocampus, one might have a difficult time following a map. The spatial memory storage of that area is vital…"

Even though she wasn’t paying attention to class, she was glad that Tyler’s focus was on the man in tweed, and not on her. She’d be mortified if he knew she drooled over him during class. Tyler didn’t date women like her. She’d seen him on campus, most recently in the gym, in the arms of a very tall, very athletic and very beautiful black woman. Two weeks before, she’d caught sight of him at a local restaurant with two friends and three women. Not one of them white. She knew she wasn’t his type, and he was probably out of her league, but that didn’t stop her from these Monday-Wednesday-Friday fantasies.

Professor Cordell stopped talking and turned his back on the class to write on the dry-erase board. Collectively, the class bent over their desks to take notes. Whenever Cordell wrote on the board, it was bound to be on the coming exam. Jaycee halfheartedly wrote a few sentences down, while keeping one eye on the man in front of her.

As soon as the professor moved aside, she took a picture of the whiteboard with her cell phone.

Better than notes anyway, and she could focus on the real reason she showed up to class. She chewed on her pen cap and stared at Tyler.

The skin on the back of his neck begged for her touch. What she wouldn’t give to press her lips there. Then move up to his earlobe. Would he be the ticklish type, or would he shudder with pleasure at each breath? She’d honor each of his facial features with her lips. She shifted again, managing to edge an inch closer to him in the process.

Cordell droned on. Tyler set his pen down, then clasped his hands together and extended both arms out in front of him. He cocked his head from one side to the other, then arched his back over the seat of the chair and stretched his arms out to the side. His routine had come a little early today. Normally this display occurred five minutes before class ended.

When his shoulder brushed her bare toes, Jaycee sucked in a breath and held it. She didn’t move. She didn’t dare. These fleeting touches were like tiny surprise parties. She savored his warmth, even though only two toes were lucky enough to touch Tyler Johnson.

Slowly but deliberately, Tyler turned his head, just enough to glance over his navy-clad shoulder. Jaycee froze, not wanting him to catch her accidental caress but afraid to move now to draw attention to it.

He didn’t raise his eyes to hers, but his lips did curl in amusement before he again faced the professor.

Jaycee’s heart raced. He almost looked at her. He almost smiled at her.

Good freaking God. You’re acting like some wallflower virgin. He laughed at your toes for Christ’s sake. Jaycee took a deep breath and tried to find her center. Outgoing, physically fit and a pretty good B student, she really had no reason to lust after this one particular guy for half a semester. Two of her sorority sisters had friends that they each insisted would be a "perfect match", and that sexy geek in chemistry lab was practically begging for her phone number. She wasn’t holding out for Tyler, but it was really hard to get excited about any other man when this Adonis was sitting in front of her.

She’d never before lost her self-control over a simple grin aimed at her foot, but damn. That was about the hottest thing she’d ever seen. If she weren’t in a room full of people, she’d fan herself. A quick glance proved that she was the only student in la-la land. Everyone else, including Tyler, was focused on Professor Cordell and his speech on brain function. For some reason the fact that she could indulge in her fantasies with fifty others in the room only excited her more. Maybe she had some unexplored exhibitionist tendencies.

Her toes were still pressed against his shoulder blade. He hadn’t moved away, and there was no way he couldn’t feel the pressure. Especially when she curled her toes, brushing the fabric of his jacket. In fact, she could have sworn that he leaned back just a bit. She pinched her eyes closed, soaking in the sensation. Tyler leaning into her touch. Her breath turned shallow and her heart thumped heavily. She opened her eyes to find the room as it was, completely mundane and normal. It seemed odd that she was the only one in the room who felt like crawling out of her skin and into Tyler’s.

Feeling suddenly bold, she slipped her big toe into the crease beneath his thick arm. She meant to pull away just as quickly as she dipped in and pretend it was accidental, but he clamped his arm over her foot, securing it to his side.

Jaycee swallowed, waiting for him to lean away from her impromptu game of footsie, or even to get up, give her a dirty look and move to the empty seat beside him. Instead, he laid down his pen and reached beneath his arm to grasp her foot.

She jumped, an involuntary movement that she instantly regretted, but he didn’t release his hold. Four strong warm fingers cupped the ball of her foot and pulled it farther beneath his arm, until her entire foot was swallowed by his massive biceps. While his thumb traced each knuckle on top, Jaycee sank into her seat, pleasure washing over her at the mere touch. She glanced around. Her fellow students paid her no mind. The few that were close enough to see her foot tucked beneath Tyler’s arm probably wouldn’t be able to tell anyway, as close as these seats were. He slid one long finger up the sensitive curve of her arch and Jaycee barely restrained her moan.

Oh my God, Tyler Johnson is touching me. Jaycee melted into her chair. She etched each sensation deep into her mind, vowing never to forget these few moments, knowing that she would pull the memory out in the future to keep her warm on a lonely night.

Cordell continued his lecture, but the professor’s voice was smothered by the pounding in her ears. Students took notes and asked questions, all while Tyler made love to the sole of Jaycee’s foot. Hands that talented on a foot could do one hell of a job on other parts of her body. She squeezed her legs together—pressing the swelling folds of her sex to rein in the flaring need for a touch—and white- knuckled her desktop to keep from sliding out of her seat.

For once, she didn’t want class to end.

But it did. As the rest of the class packed up their supplies, Jaycee sat frozen in her chair. She tried to free her foot from his grasp but he wouldn’t release her. Even when their fellow students stepped over her legs and squeezed around his to exit the theater.

The door closed behind the last student and the sudden silence engulfed them. Jaycee pulled on her foot, and this time he let her go. In a flash he was on his feet, arms braced on the back of his seat, leaning over her knees.

Oh God, he’s so close. Jaycee suddenly felt very small and weak. Her first impulse was to tear off her clothes and throw herself at his feet like some sexual sacrifice.

His eyes flashed, dancing over her from head to toe before meeting her gaze. He licked his lips and Jaycee’s mouth simultaneously went dry.

"I like your foot." Those were the first words he’d ever spoken to her, but it didn’t matter what he said. The baritone snaked around her in an almost physical caress.

This was all a bizarre dream. Tyler Johnson couldn’t possibly be mere inches from her. Alone. She couldn’t think of a word to say. She opened her mouth, but closed it when he spoke again.

"I want more."

There was no misreading the pure lust behind those dark eyes. Jaycee’s nipples, already straining against her bra, now beaded even tighter, enough to make her shudder. "More?"

Tyler nodded. A slow, measured movement of that gorgeous head. "I like your foot. I want more," he repeated, this time dropping his voice a decibel. Low enough for Jaycee to think of a smoky blues club and a tenor saxophone. "You’ve been driving me crazy, you know?"

"Me?" Jaycee hated sounding like an idiot, but this had to be some dream. If she had fallen asleep during Psych 301, she was probably drooling on her desk right now. She needed to wake up.

"Yes, you. I can smell you, I can feel your heat, but you avoid me like the plague. This is the first time you’ve looked at me directly. You always come into the classroom after me, leave before me—"

"I…didn’t think you noticed."

He didn’t respond right away. He took a moment to caress her with his gaze, settling on her lips first, then her trembling breasts and back up to her eyes. With a predatory smile, he leaned over her desk, close enough to speak directly in her ear. "I noticed. Come with me."

His face was hovering over hers, and she couldn’t even see him clearly. Come with me. It wasn’t really a question. Why did she stumble over a response? Her first thought was "why?", but the fire behind his eyes left no question. And then came "where?", but she didn’t really care. Finally, the devil that had been sitting inside her waiting for the chance to pounce came to the surface. She knew it was the devil, because before she could control it, a smile spread sinful heat across her face and she answered, "Yes."

Tyler straightened, the lust in his smile sending a jolt of excitement through her. He snapped his textbook closed and Jaycee struggled to shove her notebook into her satchel with her hands shaking as they were. After a few twisting stabs with her foot, she was able to get back into her discarded flip-flop without looking like too much of a spaz. She took a few restorative breaths before looking up to find Tyler looking put together and composed in his dress blues, his books packed away into a simple backpack slung over a shoulder, hooked by one finger. His other hand reached for hers and he led her from the classroom just as students for the next class trickled in.