Suzie Brighton beamed in response.

"Thanks, Miss McCall. We'll be right back." Suzie's mother took the child by the hand and left the classroom.

Catlin exhaled and returned to the front of the room. It was back-to-school night, two weeks into the new term. Parents and students gathered in the classroom to hear her speech about what would be happening in second grade this year. Catlin taught at Roosevelt Elementary, located in the medium-sized community of Marshall, Kansas. After three years, her back-to-school speech was repetitive and, she thought, boring. But it was her best opportunity to scope out the parents.

There were three types, she'd discovered. The first-timers clung to her every word, sometimes taking notes. They looked at her with respect, which was amusing but appreciated.

The next group had braved second grade before, and while they listened politely, she knew that some felt like they knew as much about it as she did. Catlin liked their laid-back attitudes.

The third type of parent could care less and would rather be anywhere but sitting in their child's classroom. Many of them weren't there. Those people tested her patience.

She turned, scanning the sea of faces. Eager parents looked on with anticipation, while zealous children dragged item after item from their desks to show proudly to their parents. Most seven- and eight-year-olds still enjoyed school, and that was one of the reasons she chose to teach that grade. There was something heartwarming about these enthusiastic folks, little and big, and she smiled.

The Brightons returned to their seats, and she began her talk about second grade. The children were well-behaved, the adults seemed interested and asked good questions. Catlin relaxed and continued her presentation until she glanced up and saw a man in the doorway, peering around nervously.

She caught her breath. He was incredibly good-looking, with tousled, wavy brown hair that brushed mid-collar. His blue suit was stylish, and there seemed to be muscles filling it out in all the right places. The askew necktie implied that he'd been tugging at his collar. Catlin wondered if it was fatigue or nerves that plagued him. The look on his face showed both.

Their eyes caught and he smiled helplessly. "Is this the second grade?"

"One of them," she replied, her voice shaky. For some reason she was mesmerized by his deep, chocolate eyes. "Who are you looking for?"

He raised his eyebrows hopefully. "Tessa Naughton?"

"Excuse me for a moment," she said to her students and parents. Catlin stepped to the doorway and lowered her voice. "Tessa's in Mrs. Noll's class. Down the hall in Room 106." Motioning in that direction, her arm brushed his sleeve. "Sorry," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"I'm the one who's sorry for interrupting your class. I have two children, and I spent the first half hour with my son in Mrs. Diamond's third grade. I was supposed to meet Tessa in her room at eight--" he trailed off and grinned. "You don't need to know all this."

"That's okay." She smiled and nodded down the hall. A dark-haired child with nervous eyes like her father's stared out of room 106. "But I believe you're needed down the hall."

He glanced over and smiled at Tessa, waving. Looking back at Catlin, he said, "That's my girl. Thanks so much Miss--"

"McCall. Catlin McCall."

"Miss McCall." He nodded, then smiled impishly. "It is Miss, right?"

She grinned back. "Yes, it's Miss. Nice to meet you, Mr. Naughton." Catlin glanced quickly at his left hand and spotted a silver band on his wedding ring finger. Her heart deflated for a moment, and then she realized how silly that was. He had children, for goodness' sake! Of course he was married. "Goodnight." She took a step backwards.

"Thanks again." He winked at her, turning and hurrying to his daughter.

Catlin clutched her stomach briefly, and tried to compose herself. Damn, he was good looking! Why are the great guys always taken? She heard a small crash from her classroom and saw a stack of tissue boxes hit the floor. The natives were getting restless. "Sorry about that," she said loudly. "David and Ronnie, can I ask you to pick those up? We're going to talk a little about mathematics, and then we'll see if there are any more questions."

Catlin was grading math papers after school the next day, frowning. The children forgot so much over the summer. She was contemplating how long it would take on review work before she could get into new lessons, when there was a knock on her classroom door. She glanced up, surprised to see Tessa's father. The amazing-looking, but very married Mr. Naughton, was again standing in her doorway. "Hi," she said simply.

"Hello." He smiled at her. "Are you busy?"

Catlin stood and gave a little shrug. "The usual. Three plus six is not seven, so apparently I've got more work to do than I thought."

A look of surprise crossed his face. "It's not? Shoot, I've been telling Tess wrong all this time. Thanks for straightening me out."

She chuckled and he took a step inside her room. "Thanks for straightening me out last night, too."

"No problem." She shrugged again. "I hope you didn't come all the way over here to tell me that."

"I had to pick up the kids, anyway."

She felt a heated blush spread across her face. Of course he did. He hadn't come to speak to her. "Sure," she replied, wondering why this man flustered her so easily.

"But I also hoped to speak with you." He glanced back out in the hall and said loudly, "Give me two minutes. You guys wait right there, okay?" He turned back to Catlin. "Look, I don't have a lot of time, so I'm going to cut right to the chase. I think you're beautiful and I suspect you're funny and fascinating, too. I'd like to know if you'll go out with me."

She was dumbstruck, and glanced down at his ring finger again. It was empty, save a thin tan line. "That's really sweet of you, Mr. Naughton--"

"Steve," he interrupted.

"Steve," she repeated, nodding. "But didn't I see a ring on your left hand last night?"

He glanced back at his children, then leaned against her doorway. "Yes, you did. I'm a widower, Miss McCall. My wife's been gone a little over two years. It's taken the kids and me a long time to get over her death.

"But now, we're in a new town, with a new job and school; a fresh start. I should have taken the ring off earlier. I knew that the moment I caught a glimpse of you."

Catlin's heart melted. She wasn't sure how to respond.

Another look out in the hall and he said, "I'm sorry this is so rushed. Perhaps I could get your phone number and call you. We can talk awhile before you give me an answer."

"No," she said, and he looked crushed. "I mean, yes! I'll give you my phone number! But I don't need to think about it." She smiled. "I'd love to go out with you."

He grinned with apparent relief. "Thank you. I think we'll have a great time." He patted his chest pocket and pulled out a pen but no paper.

Catlin took the pen and reached for his hand. She wrote her number across his palm. His hand was smooth and for a moment she wondered what he did for a living. It obviously wasn't construction or hard labor. She was about to ask when a young voice from the hall interrupted.

"Dad!" a boy called.

"Be right there!" Steve yelled back, and looked at her sheepishly. "Can I call you tonight?"

"I'll look forward to it." She released his hand, and they smiled at each other.

"So will I." He winked before slipping out the door, and she grabbed the door frame to steady herself. A wink from those killer eyes was deadly, and sent a jolt straight to her core.

Catlin spent an hour getting ready for their date that Friday night. She usually air-dried her shoulder-length, naturally curly brown hair. But when she wanted to look especially good, she blew it smooth with a dryer and used hot rollers. She teased the top and sprayed it with hairspray. Holding up two mirrors, she checked it out from all angles and nodded approvingly.

Standing in front of her closet, she debated over a slinky black mini skirt or a more subtle blue dress. For some reason the blue felt right, and she pulled it out. Slipping into it, Catlin recalled their phone conversation two nights previous and smiled.

He'd been charming and funny, and after just a few moments, she was glad she'd already accepted his invitation. He'd told her he was from Kansas City, and had recently been hired as the managing editor of the local newspaper. Besides that, and the fact he was a widower with two kids, she knew nothing.

The lack of information made her slightly nervous, but what she did know indicted he was probably a pretty solid guy in the community. She'd take things slow and easy. They'd have plenty of time to learn what they needed to know about each other.

Her dress in place, Catlin surveyed herself in the full length mirror hanging on the closet door. She had deep-set, dark brown eyes--a nice feature, she always thought. Her skin was clear and pleasantly ruddy. She tanned easily but avoided it, if possible, in an attempt to stave off wrinkles. A bit of blush, a touch of color around the eyes, and some lip gloss usually made up her makeup routine.

She had a love/hate relationship with that mirror. Wavering between sizes ten and twelve, Catlin had a tendency to get hippy when she overate. At least her breasts were nice sized and pleasantly full. She was generally happy with her appearance.

I think you're beautiful, he'd remarked when asking her out. Catlin felt like she was decent looking, but beautiful? She definitely wanted to know this guy better.

The clock on the wall chimed six-thirty as her doorbell rang.

She opened the front door and smiled. "Right on time."

Steve looked her over. "Wow. You look more beautiful each time I see you."

Her stomach clutched and she motioned him in. "You sure are good with the sweet talk. Does that come from being a writer?"

"Maybe a little." He shrugged. "But it's easy when I look at you. I like the dress..." He looked her up and down appreciatively. "...and the hair. Oh, these are for you." Steve pulled three red roses from behind his back.

"They're lovely! Thank you." She smelled the roses as she reached for a vase. "Let me get them in some water." She took the flowers into the kitchen and called back, "Is there significance to the number three?"

"Yeah," he replied. "That's how many the florist had left."

She walked out with the roses in a vase, and set them on a table. "Sure," she replied.

"Why do you think there might be significance?" he asked her, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"You seem like the type of man that has significance for everything he does."

He laughed. "You got me. So maybe three is for the three times I've gotten to see your pretty face."

"How sweet." Catlin tried not to go all googly-eyed over him, but he made it tough. He knew exactly the right things to say, and he looked dashing in a blue sport jacket with the shirt open at the collar. And he smelled heavenly. She closed her eyes and inhaled for a moment, before he spoke again.

"Everything okay?" Steve touched her arm lightly.

"Perfect," she replied, smiling. "Let me grab a jacket and I'll be ready."

He helped her slip it on, and she reached for her purse and locked the door behind them. "Oh, wow," she sighed as they approached his car. "Isn't this lovely!"

Reaching for the door of the sleek black Jaguar, Steve whispered in her ear, "Nah, you're lovely. The car is just a car."

Catlin slid onto the plush leather seats and sighed again. When he went around to his side and got in, she glanced over. "This is not just a car. My Miata is just a car. This is--very cool."

He laughed and started the engine. "I'd agree with that. I'd always wanted a sports car, and I finally splurged and got one. It's my one extravagance."

She glanced around the small interior. "Not much room for the kids, is there?"

"Nope. This is Daddy's car. We have a sedan for normal driving."

She leaned into the comfortable seat and smiled to herself. Apparently he didn't consider this a normal night, either.

He'd chosen a nice restaurant which she'd been to before, but didn't frequent. It was on the upscale side, and very lovely, she noticed as they entered. When they were seated, Steve asked her, "Would you like a drink?"

"Sure, whatever you're having." She perused the menu, unsure what to order.

"I was actually thinking a bottle of my favorite wine, and then maybe some steak and shrimp."

She closed her menu and set it down. "Sounds perfect."

He regaled her with stories about working at the newspaper in Kansas City, and his new job in Marshall. They laughed over her second grade stories, and commiserated about life with seven and eight year olds. By the end of dinner, Catlin was feeling very comfortable with him.

He looked at the dance floor and asked, "What do you think?"

She stood. "I think I need to get moving before all that wine settles."

Following her onto the floor, with slow strains of music filling the air, Steve reached out and pulled her into his arms. He ran his hands up her back and murmured, "I've wanted to do this since the minute I met you."

"Dance?" she teased.

"Hold you in my arms," he replied, and brushed the hair away from her shoulder. He touched his face to her neck, and she shivered.

"Yes," she murmured. "This is nice." Catlin sank into him and he tightened his grasp, pressing her against his body. She bit her lip as she felt his erection poke her belly, but she didn't pull away.

She didn't know if it was the wine, or his comfortable manner, but she felt safe and relaxed with him--and horny. His hard-on stabbed her, sending juices pooling between her legs. Her previous thoughts of taking things slow and easy faded. Right then, she could think hard and fast.

The music ended, and Catlin took a step back attempting to clear her head. "Maybe we should get some air."

Steve nodded and cleared his throat. "I could use another drink." He led her back to their table. "Anything for you?"

"Nope." She held up her water glass. "I'm good." They sat quietly for a few minutes. She studied her drink and tried to compose herself. Glancing furtively at Steve, she noticed he seemed to be trying to control his breathing. She smiled into her glass.

The music changed and a fast song started. He set his drink down and looked at her. "Are you ready to give it another try?" He extended his hand, and they stood.

They danced to several fast songs, and when the music changed again, it was slow. Steve pulled Catlin into his arms and whispered, "Hello there."

She smiled and slipped her arms around his neck. Their hips met and she felt his erection spring back to life. They danced without speaking until the song ended. Reluctantly, she pulled away and looked at him. "It's getting late."

He nodded, touched her chin, and led her back to their table. As she gathered her things, he paid the bill and they headed out.

In the car, she fumbled in the dark for her seat belt. Steve found it for her, and clasped it shut. Their hands touched, and slowly intertwined. He drove back to her house, never letting go of her hand.

"This car is very comfortable," she commented, for lack of anything else to say.

"Not bad," Steve smiled as he pulled into her driveway. With a quick squeeze to her hand, he released her and got out to open her door.

On the stoop, he held his hand out. "Keys?"

She got them from her purse and hesitated. "I'd ask you in, but..."

"I know..." He touched her cheek. "But I wouldn't want to leave. No, I'll just unlock your door."

She smiled and gave him the keys.

Steve unlocked the door, and turned to face her.

"I had a wonderful time tonight," she said quietly.

He reached for her and pulled her close. "So did I."

Before he could kiss her, Catlin whispered, "Steve--I'm afraid."

He stopped, and rubbed his nose against hers. "Afraid of what, beautiful?"

She looked down, but he gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I'm afraid I could fall for you. I'm afraid that once you start kissing me, I'll never want you to stop."

He put a finger to her lips. "Shh," he whispered, pulling her face to his. "That's actually what I hoped for." His mouth was warm and inviting as he pressed his lips on hers.

Catlin hesitated for just a second, and then fell against him. His tongue nudged her lips and she parted them, the intensity of their kiss increasing. All thoughts left her mind as he held her in his arms, his tongue battling against hers for dominance.

Time stood still. When Steve finally pulled away, he murmured, "I should go."

She knew what happened next hinged on her. She could tell him goodnight, and look forward to their next date. That was the sensible thing to do. Catlin looked at him for a moment before throwing herself back into the kiss. He groaned and ground his hips into hers. The solid erection was back, and she could feel it throb. She opened her mouth and found his tongue, sucking it ravenously.

"Oh, baby," he moaned, lips touching hers. "I don't want to go."

A thought occurred to her, and she pulled back for a breath. With both hands on his chest, she panted, "I'm not on the pill or anything. The hormones made me sick. I'm not prepared because I never expected this. But if you have something--"

"God, yes!" He yanked her head back by the hair gently and assaulted her neck. "I wasn't expecting this, either, but I really don't want to leave. I'm prepared."

Catlin grinned and reached for his lapels. "Then come in and show me what a good boy scout you are." She dragged him through the front door and slammed it shut. A flick of the deadbolt locked the door, and they stared at each other, both breathing heavy.

Steve growled and grabbed her, burying his face in her hair and shoving her jacket off. "I want you," he breathed in her ear.

She pushed his sport coat off his shoulders and tossed it on the sofa. Her hands fumbled with his belt buckle as he reached behind for the zipper of her dress.

"Bedroom?" he asked, his mouth once again prodding hers.

"Umm," she sucked his tongue deeply, nodding to her left. "That way."

Her dress landed in the hall and her lacy white brassiere in the doorway to her room. Steve sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her toward him. "Damn, you're beautiful." He nuzzled the valley between her breasts before cupping a handful of flesh with each palm and licking the nipples to hardness.

"I like that." She squirmed against his warm tongue. "Oh yeah, I knew that mouth would be good for more than just sweet talk."

Steve chuckled and she pressed into him. "Don't stop! Lord, please don't stop."

He stuck his fingers into the waistband of her panties and dragged them to the floor. His mouth trailed down her belly, and when he faced her neatly trimmed triangle of brown hair, he inhaled. He glanced up quickly, then back to her furry mound. "Oh, yes."

With one motion he grasped her hips and swung her around to the bed. He settled her on her back and crawled between her legs, nudging them apart. "I've got to taste you."

"Please do," she purred, arching her back. She felt him part her curly hair and spread her folds wide, exposing her clitoris. He was still for a moment, and she felt his warm breath on her most sensitive area. His tongue slowly covered the length of her folds. He circled her pussy and dipped his tongue in.

Catlin thought she was embarrassingly wet, but he didn't seem to mind as he lapped up her juices. The slow, torturous strokes were heavenly and she hoped he'd keep them up forever. When he moved to her clit, nipping, tugging it between his teeth and sucking, she was glad he moved. Suddenly there was a series of quick flicks with his tongue over her clit, and she shattered. "Oh, God!" she cried, and clutched the covers under her ass.

Waves of pleasure washed through her as his tongue continued teasing her. She felt a finger circling her pussy. Catlin bucked against his mouth, and as she shuddered and groaned out her climax, she heard moans of pleasure emanate from him.

The most exquisite sensations flowed thorough her body, and she never wanted it to end. But, soon the tremors lessened, and he was crawling up between her legs. At some point he'd shed the remainder of his clothes and donned a rubber on his rigid, waving cock. She watched him press the tip against her opening and looked up into his eyes.

"You ready for me?" he asked, his eyes glassy.

"Very ready! Let's go." She tried to reach for his shaft but he grabbed her hands, pressing them both into the bed above her head.

"Let me." He leaned down for a light kiss, and then holding both her hands with one of his, used his free hand to guide his cock home. "Oh, Jesus," he groaned as he entered her.

He felt long, hard and perfect as he drove into her. Catlin raised her hips to meet his thrust, and they both groaned again. "God, you feel good!" she murmured, bucking as hard as she could to match his tempo.

Releasing her hands, Steve sat on his haunches and propelled himself into her harder. "I've ... never ... felt ... anything ... better ... in ... my ... life," he said in staccato with his rhythm.

She leaned up, clutching his biceps and dug her nails in. "I'm going to come again." Her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Come on, baby, I'm right there with you."

A series of hard thrusts had him shuddering on top of her, as Catlin struggled to remain grounded. She thought for a moment she might sail away, but his hard, impaling shaft brought her back to reality. As his heat poured into her in waves, they both struggled to breathe.

She reached for his neck and dragged him down against her.

"I'm crushing you. You won't be able to breathe," he insisted.

"Breathe for me." She pressed her mouth on his and kissed him deeply, as the last shock waves flowed from his body into hers.

She never wanted to move. His weight on her, his cock and tongue inside her, felt about as perfect as anything ever had. When he finally attempted to roll over, she complained, "Don't go."

"Sorry, I have to. The travails of latex." He held the condom as he pulled out of her, and threw his legs over the side of the bed. "Bathroom?"

"Through there." She pointed, and watched his sculpted ass as he walked away. "Nice view," she teased.

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Right back at ya, babe." Steve winked and entered the bathroom.

Catlin closed her eyes and sighed. She couldn't remember ever feeling as pleasantly satisfied as she did right then. When Steve returned, he yanked the covers out from under her. She wriggled out of his way before snuggling into his arms.

He tossed the covers over both of them, kissed the top of her head and sighed. "That was fantastic."

"I thought so, too." She nuzzled her face in the soft hair on his chest.

Reaching for her chin, he pulled her face up to look at him. "No, I mean really fantastic. Incredible. I'm not sure I've ever felt this way before."

She smiled and ran the back of one finger over his cheek. It'd been incredible for her, too, but she wondered if his judgment was clouded because his wife had been gone for so long. "You're sweet."

"It's more than that," he insisted, pressing his palm into her cheek. "There's something almost magical between us. I know you felt it."

Catlin leaned into his hand, nodding. "Like we were making love instead of having sex?"

"Exactly." He looked at her with smoldering, dark eyes.

She felt her pussy clench with desire. "It makes me wonder..."

"Yes?"

Jumping up, she straddled him and grinned. "When can we do it again?"

Steve laughed and squeezed her waist, making her squeal. "You are trouble," he teased. "I should have known that from the moment I laid eyes on you."

"Too late, I've got you now," she replied, shimmying down his body. Her hands traveled the length of his muscular thighs, kneading and massaging. Settling between his legs, she caressed his semi-flaccid cock until it sprang to life. Catlin ran her tongue around the tip before pulling his cock head into her mouth.

"Oh, yes you do," he murmured, and lay back with a satisfied smirk.