Taming His Tutor

“Uh.” She just stared at him.

Speechless? Good.

He thudded his shoulder against the doorjamb, blocking it. “You wanted a detailed schedule and lesson plan?” He shook his head. “You would. You’re the kind to do all the term’s required reading before lectures start. But you’ve done the theory here. The point of the practical is the unexpected.”

She opened the door all the way. “Then you’d better come in.”

He winked to keep it light, but an outsize level of hot satisfaction pooled in his belly, sending a surge of adrenaline to his muscles. “That’s more like it.”

She laughed. “I can only get better, right?”

“I’m not the one thinking you need to get better.” He walked inside and looked around the studio. It was neat as a pin, but man, it was packed with stuff. He did a slow circle in the center of the room—there were pictures, plants, books, computers, and neat rows and rows of woven storage baskets holding who knew what.

“It’s not always like this,” she supplied. “I tidied up.”

She had? Hell, there were books and pictures and things everywhere. “How long have you been living here?”

“A couple of months.”

And she had all this stuff already? “Where were you before that?”

“Sunnyvale. Before that, Stanford.” Her shoulders lifted and she glanced away.

His gaze landed on the photo in the center of the top shelf. “Your parents must be proud of you.” It was a university graduation shot. They stood either side of her. All three were beaming at the camera. Straight-up happy.

“I guess,” she answered vaguely, turning to face him. Her eyes had that aroused sheen. Liquid desire. “Can I get you a drink?” Her voice shook slightly.

She didn’t want to talk? He could live with that for now. “Abbi.”

Her chin lifted. He liked that. For all her concerns about performance, she was courageous.

“Come here.” His voice had packed it in too, a bare rasp.

She crossed the room to where he waited. Joe was used to women doing as he asked; frankly, they pretty much had from the moment he’d become sexually active. But for some reason, Abbi’s compliance satisfied him in a different way. Because giving in to her sensuality like this wasn’t usual for her. He knew she was both willing yet overthinking it at the same time. Unable to stop herself from analyzing and worrying, but unable to stop herself from responding. And those sparks in her eyes—that combo of defiance and self-consciousness and courage pushed him into being bossier than he’d ever been. He wanted to thrust past her boundaries, to take her beyond pleasure all the way to mindless ecstasy. To make her worry less and feel more, the way he had yesterday.

Because knowing that he’d done that? That he’d been the only guy to see her like that? To feel her?

That surge of satisfaction bubbled like molten lava. He wanted to do it again. Now.

“Are you nervous? After yesterday?” he asked her, shaking his head at her insecurity.

“Um…” She took an age to study his exceptionally plain T-shirt.

“You ready for another lesson or are you having second thoughts?” he prompted.

Her eyes flashed to his. Yeah. That got her attention.

“I’m ready.”

He’d gotten hard the second he’d heard the huskiness that entered her voice when things veered to the intimate. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, curious to see if she’d answer honestly. “You can tell me anything, remember.”

He waited. But he knew he’d get an answer soon; she wasn’t quite as silent anymore.

Her gaze didn’t waver, but the blue darkened. “What I want to do. What I want you to do.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, lust roaring. “There’s the thing. The more you have, the more you want, the better it gets.” He meant sex in general, right? Except his body was in a riot, wanting only her.

“You think you can do better than last night?”

Now that unintentional compliment pleased him. “Reckon I can,” he mused. “But first.” He reached around her and tapped his fingers lightly down her spine. “There’s nothing like foreplay. Lots and lots of foreplay.”

“What’s your favorite kind of foreplay?” she asked, rising up onto tiptoe.

“Turns out I quite like messing around on first base,” he answered quietly.

She reached her hand up, curling it around his neck and tugging so he bent. She kissed him, let her tongue swirl around his mouth before withdrawing with a suck on his lower lip and then a scrape of teeth.

He was momentarily surprised by her forward action—but he wasn’t complaining. “Vixen,” he murmured. “I think you’ve been putting in some study time.”

“You like it?” she asked breathlessly.

“A lot. Do it again.”

She did, lingering before she asked with a very pleased smile, “What else can I do for you?”

He got it. She wanted to please him. Was she still not happy with the balance of orgasms? She wanted him to have more? He put on a thoughtful look, happy to humor her. For now. “What are you thinking?”

And she was thinking again, clearly. Thinking way too much.

“Massage?” she offered and immediately cringed. “Such a cliché, huh?”

It bothered him that she thought he was going to shoot her down. “It’s a cliché for a reason. It feels good.” His body was aching for any kind of touch from her. Anything she wanted.

“Okay.” A warmth lit her eyes. “You going to lie down?”

“You going to strip?” he countered. “Massage should always be done naked.”

“Oh really? You think the masseuse should be naked?”

“Uh-huh.” He winked, enjoying her tease, glad she was learning that sex should always be this kind of fun. “That way if one of your nipples comes within touching distance while you’re leaning over me, I can suck on it. Or some other body part.”

Her pupils flared but she held it together enough to adopt a thoughtful expression of her own. “Sounds sensible.”

He held himself in as he watched her slip out of her cute tee-and-trouser combo. Damn, her breasts were magnificent—big, luscious, ripe. As for the narrow waist that flared to the feminine hips? Enough to bring a man to his knees. And she’d taken care to leave a small thatch of pubic hair for him to enjoy, like a little bow on that hot present of her sex. He couldn’t wait to dive into it.

He ripped out of his clothes in record time, strode to the bed, and stretched out on her comforter. He was so tall his feet hung over the edge. She giggled at his predicament as she crawled onto the bed beside him, but that little laugh died as she glance

d up his body and saw the size of his aching cock.

“Where do you want me to start?” she asked.

Gritting his teeth, he rolled onto his stomach, offering his back, shifting to ease the awkwardness of his erection. Best to throttle back or he’d come in a nanosecond. So not happening. “I’m taking advantage of you, you realize.” Hell, he so was.

“It’s my choice.”

He looked back over his shoulder and saw her brush her hair back behind her, saw the determination, the small smile of confidence. She inhaled deeply and settled her hands on his back, gently running her palms over his muscles, which twitched at her ministrations. He inhaled, trying to ease up the edginess within. He wanted her hands all over him. Truth? He wanted to flip her over and fuck her right this second. But he fought to calm himself and give her a chance to explore. After all, he’d been lecturing on patience just the day before.

He turned his head to the other side and focused on the corner of Abbi’s apartment. He saw something that looked like work papers next to an open bag filled with…

No way.

Chapter Eleven

“But yes, ‘take charge’ and be a little bit aggressive—men like that best in bed.”

“What’s this?”

Oh dear Lord, she thought she’d hidden everything that might be remotely embarrassing. She’d spent a couple hours doing that last night after she’d been unable to sleep. The Lego collection had been the first to go—sorted in total OCD fashion into color, size, and set. Her 3-D printing gear had quickly followed suit.

Now she watched as Joe reached out with his outrageously long arm and scooped up the bag she’d dropped by her bed on Saturday after getting home from the spontaneous shopping spree with Nadia. She’d been so busy trying to get her nerdy stuff off the table and hidden in the new baskets that she’d completely overlooked Nadia’s bag of test products sitting on the floor under the small bedside table.

He chuckled and rolled onto his back to look up at her. “These are the sex toys from your desk at work.”

She cleared her throat. “Possibly.”