Tyson grabbed my hipbones with his hands, his fingers digging softly into the skin.
One kiss landed on my neck, the next on my collarbone, the next on the curve of my breast.
His hot breathe left a diagonal trail down my body, until--
Get back to work."
The words acted as an explosion, blowing my daydream to bits.
When my eyes refocused, I realized I'd been staring at Tyson's red tinted hair.
Normally, it was a deep chestnut color, as bland as the writing on the chalkboard.
Today was October 31st, so he had dyed the tips green, slipped into a leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, and adopted a sexy British accent.
He even had a guitar propped up against his desk, so how could I look away?
I was a sucker for band members, and an even bigger fan of Brits.
His fake persona was my dream man.
"Sorry," I mumbled back to the teacher, pulling my eyes down toward my desk so Tyson wouldn't see that he was the reason why I hadn't been getting a damn thing done.