Jacky leans in close, breathing warm air on the nape of your neck. His hands grips the sides of your desk, supporting his weight, as your body tenses at his proximity. "You've got this answer wrong.” He whispers, his voice deep and raspy. His eyes darts up and down the page, tracing the words with his gaze, but you know that his attention is focused elsewhere, on you. You can feel his gaze on you, tracking your movements, lingering on your curves and making your cheeks flush with arousal.