Chapter 1

The young man pinned my wrists above my head with effortless strength.

His other hand wandered boldly over my waist, leaving a trail of fire wherever it touched.

"Don't move, Mrs. Thorne."

"Professor Thorne calls you a dairy cow. He says looking at you makes him sick. But I think this is the most beautiful place in the world."

His palm covered my chest, which was heavy and swollen with milk.

...

My name is Lillian Vance. I am thirty-four years old, married, and have a five-month-old son.

Since giving birth to my youngest, it felt like a nameless fire had been lit inside my body, one that refused to go out.

Whenever I nursed, waves of numbness would wash over me. That restless heat would crawl up my spine.

My milk came in so heavily that my clothes always carried a faint, sweet scent.

Whenever I went out, men looked at me with hunger in their eyes, as if they wanted to peel my clothes off.

Though my face was plain and delicate, my body had become incredibly lush.

After the baby was born, I didn't lose my shape. Instead, I became even more curvaceous and full.

Late at night, after the baby fell asleep, I would roll over and press myself against my husband Bennett's back. My hand would slide down, searching for him.

His body would stiffen. He would grab my wrist and shove me away.

"You smell like a damn dairy farm, and now you've leaked on me. Look at yourself."

His voice was thick with nothing but irritation.

"Stop bothering me. My student is coming to stay for a few days tomorrow. Just go to sleep."

He pushed me back to the other side of the bed. The gap between us felt cold enough to freeze my heart.

I woke up the next morning with a heavy head.

I pushed open the bathroom door, and the sound of splashing water stopped instantly.

A stranger was standing there, shirtless and facing away from me.

He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His muscles were defined and lean.

He was pouring cold water over his neck. Droplets rolled down his firm back and disappeared into the waistband of his soaked joggers.

My throat went dry. I swallowed hard.

He turned around, and a few drops of water splashed onto my face.

He was handsome in a rugged way. There was a wild, defiant spark in his eyes.

My heart skipped a beat.

I stood frozen in the doorway, not knowing where to put my hands or feet.

He walked straight toward me.

"Good morning, Mrs. Thorne. I'm Hale Evans, Professor Thorne's student."

He was tall. Standing in front of me, the raw scent of a young man's pheromones invaded my senses.

My legs felt weak. That familiar, tingling heat began to crawl up my body again.

I instinctively backed away, but a warm, large hand caught the small of my back.

"Careful, Mrs. Thorne. The wall is right behind you."

He held my hand, his voice low and vibrating.

My gaze uncontrollably slid down to his wet pants. The outline there was shockingly clear.

My cheeks burned instantly.

How could he be so... big?

He suddenly leaned down and took a soft sniff near my neck, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"You smell amazing, Mrs. Thorne. Like sweet cream."

Only then did I realize that my nursing pads had failed. A large wet patch had soaked through my silk nightgown.

I pushed him away as if I'd been electrocuted and turned to run.

But my legs wouldn't obey. My body tilted, and I fell straight into his arms.

He caught me by the waist, his solid chest feeling like a furnace.

My palms were pressed against his hard forearms. The contact made me shudder.

How long had it been since a man held me with such strength?

A broken moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I quickly covered my mouth in embarrassment.

I heard him let out a soft, low chuckle.

Suddenly, Bennett's voice echoed from the living room as he answered a phone call.

I scrambled out of Hale's arms, clutching my chest as I fled the bathroom.