Spring Fling by Elle Christensen is LIVE!
Abbi and Logan burn for each other the moment they meet and it turns into a week of passion that neither of them expected. After spending spring break together, it’s clear they both want more.
But, when it turns out that Logan is a new teacher at Abbi’s school, it looks like their relationship is doomed to be nothing but a spring fling.
About the Author ~
I’m a lover of all things books, a hopeless romantic, and have always had a passion for writing. Between being a sappy romantic, my love of an HEA, my crazy imagination, and ok, let’s be real, my dirty mind, I fell easily into writing romance.
I’m a huge baseball fan and yet, a complete girly, girl. I’m an obsessive reader and have a slight (hahaha! Slight? Yeah, right) addiction to signed books.
I’m married to my very own book boyfriend, an alpha male with a sexy, sweet side. He is the best inspiration, my biggest supporter and the love of my life. He is also incredibly patient and understanding about the fact that he has to fight the voices in my head for my attention.
I hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoyed writing them!
I face Logan who is sitting behind his desk, leaning back with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. His gaze is dark and brooding as he stares at me, ratcheting up my trepidation with his continued silence.
“Abbi,” he finally says, his voice dark and dangerous. “You lied to me.” There is a tremble in his voice that betrays his struggle to stay in control.
I shake my head almost frantically. “I didn’t.”
Logan shoots to his feet and plants the palms of his hands on the desk, leaning toward me. “You told me you were a college student. Yet here you are, in my high school class of seventeen-year-olds. How is that not lying?”
A lightbulb flashes in my head—oh . . . “Logan—Mr. James—“ I pause and bite my lip for a second, thinking. I’m not sure what to call him right now… “I’m still in high school, but I turned eighteen over two months ago. And, I am enrolled in college classes. I’ll graduate high school next month and begin my sophomore year of college in the fall.” I run a hand through my short curls, look up at the ceiling and sigh.
My eyes fall and meet Logan’s. “What?” I ask.
“Mr. James,” he repeats. “I like that way that sounds falling from your sexy mouth.” His hazel orbs are still dark, except the anger has ebbed ever so slightly, replaced with hunger. He sweeps his gaze down my body and back up, the desperate edge growing. My thighs clench and my already wet panties are now flooded with arousal. “I think I’d like it a whole lot better if you were screaming it,” he mutters.
I gasp and glance at the closed classroom door. “You can’t say stuff like that here!”
Logan’s expression hardens and he straightens before prowling around the desk. I back up a step, but can’t go any further when he grabs my waists and hoists me onto the table top. He presses my knees wide, my attempt to keep them closed failing miserably against his strength and determination. He steps between them and then wraps his hands around my throat, his thumbs lifting my chin. “I’ll say whatever I want to you, when I want, Abbi. And you . . . you will say nothing, unless its ‘yes, Mr. James.’ Got it?”
I can feel the blood drain from my face and I peek at the entrance again, before staring at Logan once more. “We can’t—”
I’m cut off when his hands tighten around my neck. “Yes, Mr. James,” he insists. I’m kept from replying by his mouth when it crashes down over mine.