All coherent thought stopped for what felt like solid minutes. In truth, it was mere seconds, not even that, from the time Eli moved, kissed him, and pulled back. His lips seared from the contact and his pulse raced. Mixed images, one-part reality, one-part fantasy, tumbled through his mind and James had to physically shake himself to focus on the issue at hand: the were still in the school.

His focus sharpened, something heated and borderline wild in those usually calm eyes. This was far too much to tolerate and there was nothing -- absolutely nothing -- James could do about it. He's struggling, it showed in his face, in the way his hands fisted into his trousers.

"My daughter is your age."