Lyla’s POV

I was half-listening as he explained another formula, but the truth was I wasn’t taking in a single word. My eyes kept diverging to the bulge in his pants. Was I turning him on?

He kept talking, his tone sharp, trying to draw me back to the formulas but still I wasn't paying attention. I leaned forward, elbow on the desk, chin resting on my palm, letting my shirt gape just enough.

That was when his patience broke.

Suddenly, his hand came down on mine, gripping it ...