If he were anyone
else, like say Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt then I could write it off as normal
infatuation, but one didn't just write-off what that man did to a woman. It
angered me and turned me on at how desired and lusted after he was. That man
has had to have been with hundreds of women. He wore his arrogance and sexual prowess
like a second skin. Every time he smiled and looked through those hooded thick
jet black eyelashes, angels wept with wanting and he damn well knew he was
Lucifer incarnate. Every girl in this class not to mention the university
probably screamed his name with their B.O.Bs.
I sit here in the same seat
night after night following along even though I have read Madame Bovary more
than a dozen times listening to his eloquent words and lectures on the book.
Sometimes I look up at him to see him staring at me. I feel like he’s touching
me; stroking his fingers against my hot skin. He scares me yet makes me as
wanton for him as all the other love sick cows in here are, but he doesn't look
at them the way he does me. Maybe I’m just nuts and I've put my hormones on ice
so long that I’m becoming delusional, but there’s danger, freedom, and
something wild in those eyes of his that promise more than seductive carnal
nights. I've seen his type before; God knows my mother drove herself over the
brink falling for men that looked as this man does. I won’t be taken in and
possessed. Dante Notte will not cause me to fall as my mother did. I won’t let
it happen.
I just wish I could convince my body
of it.
Those eyes, the flex of his jaw,
and the way he moves as if he’s some sleek jungle cat on the prowl make my body
hum and burn. He draws near as one of the other students reads aloud. For a
moment the rest of the world falls away and it’s just the two of us and in my
mind I hear him say, “Come to me.” And if
I were any other woman, I probably would; on my knees kissing his feet.
However, I’m not that type and as I try to calm my already racing heart, one of
the others in class has dropped a book. The loud and disruptive CRASH to the
floor has his attention and its off of me. I feel as if I can once again
breathe. Class concludes and I gather my things up and head for the door but I
have to pass him to get away. As I squirm and dart outside of the crowd that is
suddenly around him, again that rich dark voice comes into my head once again
and says, “You cannot run from me, I’ll come for you.”
Part of me hopes he doesn't and the
other part of me knows that if he does, I won’t have the strength to escape
him.
Dante
Notte’s English Lit class that all the women and even some of the guys are
dying to get into because Professor Notte is not only drop dead gorgeous, but
he’s sin on a stick. Dante is a centuries old vampire that has first-hand
knowledge of the subject he teaches. He’s every woman’s deepest and darkest fantasy
but he’s not interested in the countless women that pass through his classroom
door, until one night a certain plain Jane who is as insulting as the day is long
stirs something in him that is more than just mere curiosity or conquest.
Ariel
Mathias has a complicated life. She is still reeling from the loss of her
mother, a full class load, and she believes her step-father is a murderer. If
all those things weren't enough, she has landed under the seductive eye of the
school’s most notorious teacher, Dante Notte. Ariel doesn't have time for her
hormones and sex drive to go into hyper drive nor can she have a relationship
with him. However, the more she dismisses him and pushes Dante away, the
stronger he come right back. There is also the problem of her step-father who
isn't about to let his little cash cow get away from him, even if he has to get
rid of her like her poor mother.
Dante’s got some lessons in store for his
little book worm, and reluctant as she may be, Ariel will not be able to resist
him for much longer.
