Liam's eyes cracked open to sunlight cutting through the blinds that the light hit him straight in the face, sharp and unforgiving.
He squinted, turning his head to the side, his hand coming up to shield his eyes.
He groaned, low and rough, his other hand moving down beneath the thin blanket to adjust himself.
Morning wood. Again.
His grey boxer briefs pulled tight, uncomfortable.
He shifted, trying to find a position that didn't feel like his dick was about to tear through the material.
'Maybe I should just call Miss Kelly and see if she's free,' he thought, a lazy grin spreading across his face as the thought sat there for a second, stupid and tempting.
He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling fan, and pictured it.
He could almost hear her voice on the other end, that clipped, professional tone she used to command a lecture hall.
He imagined himself calling her up, breaking the silence of the night just to hear that voice crack.
Then the memories hit him.
