Nash Henry wanted a cigarette...immediately...he needed one to mysteriously appear out of thin air and erase the stress of his pending situation. In less than two minutes, his doorbell would ring and the woman who had recently acquired the title girlfriend would be standing on the other side. She was intelligent, beautiful, virtuous, independent, and all those other adjectives one would never associate with a member of the opposite sex who would be interested in him. Somehow and some way he lucked up, peaking her interests over a conference room table and securing an lunch escort who didn't mind picking her three favorites from Mickey D's value menu.

Sooner or later, he was going to screw it up. That was the nature of his life, he had single handedly destroyed his marriage with the ex-wife from hell. Every woman who chanced sharing her phone number somehow regretted the feat within mere hours, but Nita Floyd was an entirely different story.

They were breaking the rules; she was the parent of one of his students and his son was somewhat if not completely enamored with her daughter. Hell, their relationship was seamlessly morphing into a 1980s after school special.

Still the two had been inseparable. They snuck off for lunches that fit both their schedules. There was time in their days for rushed cups of coffee and day old cupcakes. He stayed up until well past midnight talking about absolutely nothing in hushed tones on his cell phone. He was slowly but surely falling in something akin to love all over again. Now she was coming over to cook just for him and he had ruined the evening by inviting his best friend and the bitch on heels.

If Russ, whine one more time, about the big bad bully in his office, Nash would surely go insane. It was sexual frustration, plain and simple, the chick saw something in Russ she liked, and now she was running and shunning the very appearance of evil. He had never seen Russell Ware Jr., scared of pussy, but he guessed there was a first time for everything. It would be Nash's luck; Russ would impress the office terrorist, and end up locked behind closed door, scuffing the walls with his headboard, while he waited the requisite three months before he chanced a physical encounter with Nita.

He cursed aloud when the doorbell chimed. He gave himself a final once over in the mirror before he rushed down the stairs and to the front door, "Now or never," He whispered before turning the knob to reveal Nita on the other side. She was breathtakingly beautiful. He had seen her dressed for corporate America before but nothing compared to the evening's ensemble.

Nash tried his best not to sound like the under sexed divorced father of one that he was when he found Nita in a simple yet flattering black wrap dress, "Hey." The tight curly tendrils he'd grown accustomed to seeing were blown out and straightened, cascading in soft strands down her back. Her full breasts rose and fell as she inhaled and exhaled. The blood rushed from one head to the next and his feet cemented themselves to the ground, "Nash...could I get a little help." She lifted the bags to his eye level and his sex crazed haze lifted. He grabbed the items from her hand and waved her inside. He should have walked ahead of her and led the way to the kitchen, instead he encouraged her to step ahead of him, and the shape and wiggle of her ass did nothing but further increase the discomfort in his pants. He used the bags to shield his condition once he entered the professionally cleaned kitchen. She turned and admired her surroundings, the stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, and tiled floors, "Nash, you have a beautiful home."

He choked back his initial response, the one involving a request to bend her over the counter, and finish what he had started that morning in his dreams, "Thanks." He busied himself with grabbing an assortment of pots, pans, and utensils, before pausing to flash a smile, "What can I do to help?"

Nita shook her head, elevated her height by standing on her tip toes, and brushed her lips across his forehead. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Nash gripped her hips and pulled her closer. There was no denying she felt what the dress and her body had done to his physical state. A burdened, "Shit," was all she ground out through clenched teeth, before she pressed her body closer to his and swiped her tongue across her bottom lip.

It was an involuntary reaction that caused his mouth to attack hers. He groaned in pain when their teeth collided and she nipped at his top lip. He didn't complain a moment longer when her fingers settled at the nape of his neck and laced their way through the soft layers of hair there. His hands made easy work of the hem of her dress and caressed the fullness of her thighs. It had been too long and while he didn't want this to happen like that, he found himself tumbling over the edge into the zone where reason dissipated and lust took complete control.

Nash's lips caressed the smooth skin of her neck. He kissed and teased while one hand cupped a breast and the other work tirelessly to find its way inside of the lace covering her behind. Her legs widened and he connected with arousal soaked curls and tender nether lips that begged for a few minutes of well placed attention. His fingers obliged, slipping deeper, as echoed his apologies for moving way to fast, "I didn't plan this."

Nita snorted and complied when he reached for a leg to wrap around his waist, "Sure you didn't."

He didn't still his attack but he continued until he saw her lids lower and her teeth grip her bottom lip, "I promise it was never my intention to have you for dinner tonight."

Her lips parted and a very unladylike response was emitted before she followed with, "Nash you talk entirely too fucking much."

He smirked, "Well I guess you better find a way to shut me up."

She responded with a cheeky grin before she delivered a breath stealing kiss.

Nita and Nash's tongues were still fighting for dominance when a party entered their scene and quickly shielded his eyes from the sight before him, "What the hell?"

When Nash grudgingly relinquished his hold on the woman in his arms he met the disapproving gaze of his best friend and roommate. What he didn't expect was to hear Nita acknowledge his friend's presence by speaking his name, "Russ, what...why are you here?"

Nash quickly put two and two together and realized he and Russ were reliving high school all over again. Nita Floyd was the bane of Russ' existence and the subject of his wet dreams.