My heart hammered like a machine gun as our sneakers trampled over the plushy grass. Short, raspy breaths puffed out of my dry mouth as we continued to let our legs carry us.

The path was lined with a caged fence on each side, weeds and flowers crawling up to the edges in an uncared for way.

"Damn," Mr. Lee muttered, blowing out a puff of air. He was a couple inches in front of me, and his white shirt rippled from the breeze. I couldn't help but stare at the way his arm muscles flexed. "This is a big hill."

He may have said that, but there was no way he was fooling me. He looked completely fine. His cheeks had a rosy tint and sweat glimmered against his forehead, but besides that he looked as energetic as always.

My calfs were burning and my whole body ached to stop, but I let out an almost inaudible, "yeah."

I would rather dig a grave for myself instead of asking to stop- that would be the ultimate embarrassment and any runner would agree. Stopping represented failure, and I was not about to show him that, even if I had in many other ways before.

We were completely silent, but it was not the silence that caused the tension to ripple within my body. What caused my heart to quickly thud and my hands to shake as if I were scared, was the fact that my thoughts were bringing up dauntingly inappropriate ideas.

What was I supposed to do? With a grassy path and an unmistakably sexy human running beside me, what else is there to think about?

When a human runs, there is nothing completely eventful going on besides the sound of their steps. Of course, the chirp of a bird could echo in the distance or a crowd could roar with cheers from the side, depending on the situation, but one way or another you were always left with the most effective thing- your mind.

In my specific scenario, I was running on a path that kept going uphill. A man with a timer strapped around his wrist passed us in the opposite direction, greeting us with a nod and continuing on his walk. Little daffodils dotted the ground around us, with the occasional vibrant flower that stuck out from the rest. Mr. Lee's breaths were steady and low, while mine resembled a dying animal.

"I think we ran enough for today," Mr. Lee calmly states, abruptly stopping. I stop myself and back up to meet with his scorching gaze. His eyes were an intense shade of blue.

"Yeah," I muttered, looking down at my shoes and doing anything to avoid the sudden discomfort that was radiating off my body. His masculine cologne with a hint of usual peppermint encircled us.

"You've got a leaf stuck in your hair," he said quietly, his eyes glued to the top of my head, an amused smile shaping his lips. A blush spread across my sweaty cheeks.

I placed my hand at the top of my head, but all I felt was my soft hair and the tiny ponytail that stuck out from the back.

"Let me," he said, and immediately the space between us disappears, and I am face to face with him, or, more specifically, his rock hard chest.

I've never wanted him so close to me before in my life. To be honest, I've never craved attention like this from a man. Sex never crossed my mind and I never felt aroused- until now.

Mr. Lee had somehow opened a door in my mind to the dirtiest scenes that I have played out countless times in my head.

Perhaps a part of me changed because of him. I was becoming a typical teenager, but how in the world was I supposed to deal with these scorching desires? Surely they would pass, right? Was it normal for my body to be aching for his touch?

His fingers slowly moved to the top of my head, and they pressed against my scalp. I leaned into his chest and inhaled his masculinity.

Simply and annoyingly fast, he plucked a leaf out of my hair, and then presented his palm to me, where a shriveled maple leaf lay. Hair dusted his large knuckles, and shit, I wanted his hands on me, not my hair.

A large sigh escaped his pink lips. "You don't see it, do you?" He asked, inching closer, causing my breaths to become erratic.

My insides clenched and unclenched, as if my body were gasping for air. My fingers felt disconnected from my body, and an aching, burning and somehow deeply sensational feeling swirled around in my lower stomach.

I kept my eyes glued to his jawline, where dark facial hair was interspersed. I wanted to feel the scratch of his stubble against my own face.

"See what?" I whispered dazed, unfocused.

"Dammit," he abruptly snapped, taking a step back and dropping the leaf, letting it float to the ground. He began to run a hand over his face and through his disheveled hair. "Never mind."

I continued to stare at his stressed complexion. His eyes drastically darkened in color, which made them all the more hypnotizing.

And this was when I knew we were both swallowed by the beauty of lust. The sounds of the world became muted. All I could possibly hear, besides the pulse of my heart beat, was our rapid breathing. Our eyes were locked on each other, swiveling from the details on each of our faces.

Before I could give it any thought, I pressed my hands against his chest and let my stomach press against his own. The feeling of his hard abs pressed against me was enough to literally make me melt with exhaustion.

It was as if a fire exploded inside his body. His large hands gripped my shoulders, and with a sexy force shoved me against a fence that was covered in dwindled vines.

The sharp prick of the fence dug into my back, and an uncontrolled wince shook out of me. The strange thing, though, was that I liked the pain.

I used to turn to the blade of a knife when I was feeling depressed- but this? This wasn't a depressing pain. This was a seductive kind of pain.

"You're completely irresistible," Mr. Lee growled, his lips landing on my shoulder. He bit down gently and I cried out as an awful blush set fire to my cheeks and spread down to my neck.

"We always end up-" Mr. Lee interrupted my sentence when his hands kneaded into my hips. "Doing this," I finished with a gasp.

"Not like this," he grunted into my shoulder, his warm lips pressing against my skin. Pure ecstasy shot through my body. It was as if his lips contained a drug- they lit up every damn nerve in my adolescent body.

Every rebellious part of me wanted to rip off my shirt, which was extremely out of character, due to the fact that I was constantly insecure, but right now my insecurities were shoved into the depths of my brain that I would not visit for a while. At this very moment, I was hot and sweaty and I wanted to be the girl that gave into Mr. Lee's charm.

And the fact that this was wrong? To hell with it. I was clouded by lust, and perhaps it was just my body finally reaching its late stage of puberty and hormones, but I couldn't care less. For once in my life, I felt good. I felt like I could fly above the clouds and I wouldn't let my negative thoughts interfere.

I pulled his body closer to mine, and a gasp escaped my lips when he grabbed both my thighs and wrapped them around his body.

I let my fingers find their way to the end of my shirt, where I tugged the material and let it move up to my breasts.

And then a deadly wave of regret washed over the both of us. Mr. Lee stared at me, my hands gripped onto the material of my tank-top, my thin stomach bare and rising up with every heavy breath I took.

"What the hell am I doing? I'm taking advantage," Mr. Lee said, lacking any type of emotion. He was completely and utterly unreadable, as if he had put up an exterior that I was unable to see through. It looked like he was shutting down.

Without anger, Mr. Lee gently gripped onto my thighs and brought them back down. I awkwardly straightened up, and Mr. Lee bent down and straightened up my shorts that had embarrassingly rode up to my upper thighs.

Anger bubbled in the depths of my chest, and a pathetic tear rolled down my sweaty cheek. The dam inside of me was ready to let loose- all the emotions that were shoved together threatened to mentally fall apart.

Of course this could never happen. He would never be able to touch me without feeling like he was in the wrong. Mr. Lee was not a bad person. He didn't want to break the law. He knew he had authority over me, and he knew he was taking advantage.

Although in my eyes, it wasn't taking advantage. I was deprived of feeling this way all of my life, and for the first time I was feeling it, but my first experience with these new feelings had to be with my teacher.

"You're a good man," I whispered. "You're too good." My voice cracked, and I held myself together with all the strength I could muster.

"This is to protect the both of us." He said, and shoved a hand through his hair. He backed away and looked at me as if I were a wounded puppy. I hated it.

I moved forward and raised my hand to touch him. "Just one last-"

"No." He snapped, and I dropped my hand in defeat.

We looked at each other and time ticked away from seconds to minutes. My own thoughts were creating an aura of anger, and at any moment I was sure I was going to collapse and let my tears drown me.

"We need to do something that will take our minds away from the possibly of ... intercourse." Mr. Lee uttered, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

An idea hatched in my head. "I'll do it," I blurted out and stood up straighter, swallowing down the sadness that was bundled together in my chest.

"Do what?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Track and field," I replied. "I want to spend time with you, and although we can't do it the way we'd both prefer, we'll have to spend our time exercising together."

"Alright." Mr. Lee said. "Exercise it is."

When the darkened sky indicated it would be appropriate for us to leave, Mr. Lee and I walked side by side back down the path, the energy coursing between our almost touching hands, but the line of the law separating us from igniting our bodies with lust.

A cloud of melancholy engulfed me, but the whole time we walked I wished Mr. Lee would just kiss me one last time.

But he wouldn't, and for the first time, I knew that this was the real deal. We were simply from two different worlds. The world of being a teacher- of having authority over adolescents, of being a good example and someone to look up to. And in my world of being the student, I was to look up to him with hopeful eyes. I was to look at him as an idol or an educator.

The deep voice I knew too well interrupted my mournful thoughts. "Would you like to grab a bite to eat? As a coach and member of a team- nothing more than that."

I nodded and a small smile with a hint of sadness shaped my lips. He was still my own savior, whether or not it was allowed.