Taming His Tutor

“Come,” he almost snarled at her. “Come for me. With me.”

Her neck arched and just as he heard her scream, he felt her heated sheath contract around him. Fuck, he had no control against this. He roared in satisfaction as he thrust deeply twice more, coming hard. His orgasm so insanely intense he had to close his eyes and try to remember how to breathe.

She’d wrung him dry. And at the same time that feeling flooded him—unutterable relief. Sweet serenity filled his bones.

He dropped onto her, unable

to move even though he knew he was too heavy. But he didn’t want to leave his heavenly pillow just yet. Didn’t want to withdraw from the woman who’d just wiped him out.

He still had her wrists in his grip. Satisfaction charged through him again, the feeling of pleasure greater than any victory he’d had on the court.

He finally had the girl who’d starred in his hot teen dreams right where he wanted her.

And it was so much better than any damn fantasy.

Chapter Nine

“Definitely don’t act needy. Never ask, ‘Do I look fat in this?’ or similar questions.”

“So.” Abbi felt her blush growing but made herself continue. “How was it for you?”

“You really have to ask?” Joe rolled onto his side, amusement in his eyes. “You want to do a postmortem on that?”

She nodded, determined to carry on. “An analysis, yes. Isn’t that why I’m here? To learn what works and what doesn’t? It’ll make the app better.”

“An analysis…the app,” he echoed softly and closed his eyes momentarily. “Of course.”

“Don’t mock me.” She so had to remember this was just an experiment. This was helping her personally, sure, but it was also for work. And she could keep it on that emotionless level, right?

“I’m not.” He swiftly rolled back into place—above her. “I’m happy to analyze.” He lifted up and resettled between her thighs. “So how was it for you?”

OMG, she was hot again already. Having him there? Over her? Gazing down at her? Asking after her? Probing? “That’s not—”

“It’s totally relevant. If you’re not having a good time, then how can I? That’s a huge part of sex. Mutual pleasure.”

“I had a good time,” she said softly. She was having a good time now too. Having him this close was the most exquisite experience of her life.

“So did I.” He reached out and stroked a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve been sleeping with the wrong kind of guys, sweetheart.” He drew in a deep breath. “You need someone strong.”

Abbi frowned. Strong like dominant strong? She shook her head. “Scott tried…”

“Tried what?”

“Tying me up once.” She flushed and shifted a little beneath him. But there was no escaping him.

“Didn’t do it for you?” A frown pulled his brows. “He hardly ever made you come, did he?” He read the answer in her silence and growled. “What did you see in the guy?”

Well, Scott had liked her for who she was. Or she’d thought he had. She’d thought he’d seen past her quiet exterior. He’d been delighted when she’d eventually stripped for him and he’d seen her breasts. But then. He’d wanted things she hadn’t wanted.

She’d tried to be more sexually forward with him. She’d wanted things to be amazing between them. But shortly after their first time together—yet long enough after they’d met that she’d thought herself in love with him—he started criticizing her. Picking her apart. Everything about her apart, now that she looked back on it.

She’d worn sexy costumes for him. He made passive-aggressive comments about the way they looked on her. She’d agreed to watch porn with him. He made digs about how she wasn’t doing it like the women on the screen.

She agreed to be tied up. Only it so hadn’t turned her on and Scott said lube was for bad lovers. How had she managed to screw up being tied up when it was the sex play du jour?

She’d wanted their relationship to work. But because her dating experience was so limited, she hadn’t had a healthy frame of reference for what was normal and what wasn’t. What was good, what was bad. And the real reasons for why.

The more Scott accused her of being the problem, the more she believed him.

Sure, now she knew in her head that it hadn’t been all her fault—her chats with Nadia had told her that. But in her heart? There was still that doubt.

She needed certainty. She needed skills.

“Maybe the chemistry was never there to begin with,” she said lamely. Maybe it was that simple?

“You liked it when I restrained you with my hands. When I pinned you down.” Joe regarded her with a gentle smile on his face. “I think you’d like it if I tied you up.”

She clenched her upper thighs together instinctively and shook her head.

He chuckled and thrust his hips forward so she parted for him. She knew he felt her heat. Her dampness. Her arousal. But even though he doubtless knew he could, he didn’t push inside.

“You’ll let me. Maybe lesson number five.” He laughed again at her expression. “It doesn’t have to be handcuffs and ropes, it could be something softer. And I might even try to make you laugh. Maybe with a feather.”

Tickle torture? Abbi clenched her inner muscles again—knew damn well he saw and felt the effect of his words on her.

“Is that what gets guys off?” she asked softly. “Being in control?”

His lashes dropped like curtains in a theater. He didn’t answer for a long moment and when he finally did, it was quietly. “Nothing has turned me on more than you giving in to me, to the pleasure I can give you when you let me.

He paused and she saw him swallow. The smallest of frowns creased his brow before he suddenly looked her in the eye again.

“You want to know you’re a good lover, right? That’s why we’re here.” He cleared his throat, speaking quickly and firmly, like he’d pulled himself back into tutor mode and was about to give her the salient point in the lecture. “The first step in being a good lover is having a good time yourself and letting your partner see it and know it was because of him. So yeah, sometimes guys like to be dominant. And I think a lot of women like to submit in sex. It’s just fantasy. Just fun.”

Seriously? It couldn’t be that easy. “So you’re saying that if I just lie back and let you do whatever, it’ll be good for you?” Because it sure as hell had been good for her.

He laughed, but she felt him harden against her again. “Abbi, I already told you, you don’t just lie back.”

Yeah, well, she wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels from the chandelier.

His expression softened. “There’s all kinds of sex, sweetheart. Sometimes me on top, sometimes you. Lazy, slow, kinky, sweet. We’ll cover it all. But you have to believe what I tell you. And what did I tell you when I was thrusting as hard as I could inside you?”

So. Fucking. Good.

She raised her hand and pressed her palm to his slightly roughened jaw. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Literally.”

Part of her felt like a kitten who’d gotten her first bowl of cream—all pleased and satisfied. But insecurity whispered its way in almost instantly: you have to do better.

She needed to go think. Go study. Go listen to Sasha Fox.

“I’d better get home,” she said, wriggling beneath him. Contrarily, she was disappointed when he swiftly moved to let her sit up. He didn’t want to make the most of the new erection he was rocking?

She clutched the sheet to her chest as she prepared to get out of the bed.

“I’ll give you a lift,” he said smoothly, his gaze drifting to where her fingers curled tight at the edge of the fine cotton. “But you want to take a shower before you go?”

“Thanks.”

He offered no invitation for her to stay longer. Certainly not the night. That was fine. This was an arrangement and it was best to keep it that way. A service, in fact. One that was fun for him—being the lover of sex that he was—and beneficial for her.

All good.

He left the bed, apparently unconcerned with his aroused nudity, and went to the single set of drawers in the room. He opened the middle drawer and rummaged for a moment. Abbi appreciated the full length of that moment—the guy’s butt was mighty fine. As for his forever-long legs and the breadth of his back? She couldn’t believe she’d been so lucky to have the full force of his physical attention.

A second later something large and cotton landed in her lap. She shook

it out. A T-shirt. She glanced up and saw he’d pulled some boxers on. He winked at her and walked out. She was glad he’d left to let her slip from the bed without him watching.

She pulled on the tee, trying not to melt in pleasure as it swamped her. More than a minidress, but it was his. She felt like she was his too—which was lame because she wasn’t and never would be. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t turned on.

She’d had her lesson for the day, she couldn’t possibly want more…

Okay. She could.

She breathed in a steadying breath, then wandered out in search of the bathroom.

Focus on something other than sex.

She studied the walls. His apartment was much smaller than she’d thought it would be, and its sparseness surprised her. He obviously liked minimalist decor. In that way they couldn’t be more different. There were no family pictures anywhere—no pictures at all, in fact. None on the exposed brick walls, or on the tops of the bookcases that lined one of them. She knew he’d been a foster kid—eventually he’d been placed with a local family, the Burnses; that’s why he’d come to her school. But there was nothing of them to be seen in the place. Nothing terribly personal at all. Not even any pictures of his basketball team or other memorabilia. Nor was there much in the way of home comforts. No large sofa and giant flat-screen TV. There was a nice computer on the desk that had his paperwork in neat piles, but that was about it. The open-plan kitchen area was shiny but wasn’t littered with the gadgets of a MasterChef wannabe. So what were his hobbies, then?

This place could be some hotel or serviced apartment belonging to no one.

She knew shouldn’t be noticing these things at all, certainly shouldn’t be analyzing, but hey, she was curious. And curiosity about other things was eating her up, too. There was no sign here of any female presence in his life. Thank goodness.

“How come you don’t have a girlfriend at the moment?” she just couldn’t resist asking as he handed her a tall glass of ice water.

He didn’t have one, right? He wouldn’t have made this arrangement with her if he wasn’t single.