College student Callie Smith thinks her dominating professor and boyfriend is just taking her on a relaxing holiday by the beach. She couldn't have been more wrong. He undresses her in an airplane with the help of a complete stranger, and then hogties her in the middle of a beach and walks away. She finds herself completely at the mercy of the nameless strangers around her. It doesn't take long for the beachgoers to start doing more than look... ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ I licked my upper lip and tried to hide the desire dancing across my eyes as I stared at the way the professor ran his hand across the blackboard, writing equations that made no sense whatsoever to me. Professor Carlos Carpenter was the youngest professor in the University with a tenure and deservedly so. He was driven and intelligent, with two PhD's under his belt at the young age of thirty two. He was teaching biochemistry, a subject which meant absolutely nothing to me. This was a problem considering the finals was coming up in a few weeks. I was guaranteed a fail. I probably had to drop the class and take another, but I wasn't too worried about that. I only took up the class because of how sexy the professor looked in his profile picture, something that he was all too aware of. The smooth muscles on his arm rippled as he wrote another equation on the board, then stepped back to explain it. He had a voice that demanded attention but I was too busy staring at his body to pay attention to the actual words leaving his lips. His square rimmed glasses add a sort of kindness to his gaze that I knew to be absolutely fake. He was the harshest man I knew. I wondered how his fingers would feel on the small of my back, moving lower and lower until he was cupping the flesh of my bottom. The contrast between his dark ebony skin and my pale while would be hot though! My roommate accused me of having a thing for black guys. If she knew about my relationship with her biochemistry professor, she would flip out. I grinned at the thought. Pity she could never know. If anyone found out I was seeing my professor, both of us would be in huge trouble. He interlocked his lithe fingers firmly together and stared at us. He had probably asked a question. Nobody volunteered to answer whatever it was he was asking. I tried to make myself smaller so he wouldn't think of asking me, but it was like he wanted to humiliate me. "Callie, would you like to give this a try?" he asked. I stood up and wiped my sweating, clammy palms on my skirt. "I haven't a clue, sir," I said, and then sat back down. "Perhaps you should come to my office after class," he said. I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Of course, professor," I said, ignoring the wide-eyed-looks from my course-mates. His after-hours office sessions were things of legend. Grown men and women emerge from them in tears and start questioning their self-worth. Students needed to go to counseling after attending his office hours. I heard some even quit drinking and partying altogether. He nodded curtly, then asked someone else, someone more capable, to answer the question. My sessions were very different compared to my course mates. I attended most of them naked.