“No time. I’ve never had time for a girlfriend.”
And never would. That finality rang in his tone.
She took a long drink of the almost-frozen water, but it barely cooled her. “So you just have…flings?” Fuck buddies? Did he make arrangements like this all the time?
He nodded. “Just simple, carefree.”
“How do you keep it carefree?” She set her glass down on the stainless steel counter between them.
“Keep it finite.”
By that he meant short term. “And your partners are all okay with that?”
“If they’re not, we don’t play.”
But he didn’t want anything more? No relationship as such? Just a variety of sexual partners? He was that comfortable with living life alone?
She remembered the lack of personal objects, and figured maybe he’d always been alone…her stupid heart pulled.
“You ready for that shower?” His eyes sparkled with intent.
She nodded. Getting that he was closing the conversation. She smiled, trying to let him know he didn’t need to worry. She wasn’t going to pry more. Ask for more. Not in any way other than what they’d already arranged. And she was telling her already soft heart to harden up.
“Yeah, just a quickie, then I’d really better get home. I need to organize things for my week.”
He stalked forward and picked her up. “I think we can do better than a quickie.”
Her brain shorted out at the feel of his flexing pecs and abs hard against her. “This is still part of the first lesson, right?”
He just laughed.
His shower was one of those flashy ones with a million nozzles pointing at all kinds of interesting angles. Hot, steamy, sensational. Especially as he helped lather the soap and swipe it over every inch of her skin. Only now she wanted everything, all over again.
“Face the wall.” He nuzzled her ear and put her hands flat against the tiles so she could brace herself. Her legs were shaking.
He laughed—that low, sexy chuckle that told her he knew just how aroused she was. How much she wanted.
And then he gave it to her. Nothing quick about it.
An hour later she was dressed and sitting in the passenger seat of his car.
“I didn’t know you lived so close,” he said once she gave him the directions. “It’s only a ten-minute ride.”
“We should have walked,” she murmured, languid and satisfied.
He chuckled. “Sweetheart, you’re not up to it.”
A few moments later, they pulled in front of her apartment complex and she climbed from the car. He followed her but she stood at the gate, blocking him. “Thank you for—”
He cut her off by pressing lips on hers. Abbi instantly opened. He wrapped his arms tight around her and lifted her off her feet, hauling her close against his chest, secure in his embrace.
She was as surprised and touched as she was aroused. How could she want him again when she’d been so thoroughly screwed these last few hours?
He lowered her back to her feet and slowly drew away, brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers in a gentle, teasing gesture. Like she was someone he liked to kid around with.
“Don’t overthink things,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Don’t overthink things? How could she not overthink things after an experience like that?
She watched him get back in the car. But he didn’t leave. He lowered the window and called out to her.
“Get in your house. I’m not leaving until you’re inside.”
It was only midafternoon—hardly dark and dangerous. She smothered a grin at his protectiveness and hurried to her door, still flying on the orgasmic aftershocks.
So now she knew: she didn’t need to be in a committed, loving relationship to have the best sex of her life.
She flicked on the light in her apartment and stared at the half-constructed Lego city on her dining table. Good thing he hadn’t come in with her. The place was a mess and had “nerd alert” written all over it. Yeah, that was going to have to go—at least into a cupboard for the next week. This might be an arrangement, but she was learning all she could from it.
Sasha Fox—and every other article she’d read—had said the trick to getting a guy’s interest was not to talk about yourself. Not to be boring. Not be needy and ask for attention or ask him to solve your insecurities.
Well, she’d failed at that already by telling Joe her sexual insecurities. But she wasn’t going to give him any more to have to deal with. No man wanted to have to deal with a needy, clingy woman. This was only about fun for him and learning bedroom skills for her. Not emotional support.
As for her supposed submissive streak? He was right—she’d liked it when he took control. She’d liked the idea of him tying her up. But this wasn’t supposed to be about what she liked. He was honorable in saying that sex should be good for both, but she wanted it to be the best for him.
So she should ask him questions, listen avidly—no problem there when she was so curious about him. She should laugh at his jokes, which wasn’t hard, because he was fun. But she was going to have to try harder to keep her own selfish urges under control. Because her ultimate aim in this wasn’t for her to have the best sex of her life.
But for him to.
Chapter Ten
“Always leave him wanting more.”
Joe woke two seconds before his alarm sounded. He rolled his shoulders and thrust back the sheet. Thanks to Abbi, he’d just had the best night’s sleep in months. The best dreams too, where he spent all his time plotting out his lesson plans for her. He always ensured his lovers were satisfied, but this was different. He wanted her to have the best. Sex was about the only way in which he could deliver that for her.
He just had to remember it was all about her. Sure, he was fulfilling an old fantasy, but it wasn’t anything more than that. This need to push her was only about the physical, right?
Damn, it was going to be a good week. He stretched out in the shower, thinking of what he’d do to her…was hard all over again. Yeah. Time to call a halt to that. He had work to do. He quickly toweled off and got into his workout gear.
He ran down the stairs just in time, ready to greet his Monday morning regulars. “You ready to sweat, you suckers?” he called, grinning widely. “I’m not feeling lenient today.”
He felt like making everyone work. He needed the exercise to eat up his abundance of energy. And he sure as shit had a ton of energy. So he took the second class as well.
“Back-to-back cross-training?” his receptionist asked. “Are you crazy?”
No, he just had a lot to think about. He’d told Abbi not to overthink things, but now he was the one who couldn’t stop. Thoughts of her dominated his mind. He wondered how long she’d been working at the magazine, where she’d been before. Wondered more about the jerk boyfriend. Wondered whether she’d ride him hard if she was on top—wondered how he could get her to stop thinking long enough to let herself do that.
His body was surprisingly stiff in some areas. It had been a while since he’d had marathon sex. The residual aches only made him want more. Like now.
In the end he spent the whole day in a futile attempt to concentrate on things other than the memory of Abbi in his bed. The only way he’d succeeded as much as he had was by single-minded determination. No distractions. Until now there’d been nothing and no one that had distracted him. But today?
Good thing there were only five more lessons. He couldn’t let this bleed into the rest of his life, and he certainly did not chase.
But twenty minutes after he finished taking the 6:00 p.m. cross-training class, Joe knocked on the door he’d seen Abbi go into last night. There’d been more than one reason he’d insisted on driving her home. Seeing her safe was a priority, sure, but he’d wanted to know where she lived. They hadn’t had the time for much swapping of personal details—other than some sexual preferences—but that didn’t mean he wasn’
t interested.
He shouldn’t be here at all. He should be back at the gym, sorting through the job application forms, because he needed at least three new instructors for the new venue. He should be checking the monthly accounts. There were so many damn things he should be doing.
Instead he was waiting at her door.
She opened it remarkably quickly, her lower lip caught in her teeth, her cheeks reddening. “Joe.”
He looked at her through narrowed eyes, amused at her casual T-shirt and loose jeans. “Did you check the peephole before answering?”
Her blush deepened. “No, I was in a hurry, I—” She broke off. “How can I help you?”
Joe hesitated, unused to this kind of hesitation from a woman—usually he’d be inside the door and half naked already. Yet he knew Abbi was pleased to see him; it was obvious in her color. In her quickened breathing. In the desire clouding her eyes. But she wasn’t making it easy for him, and he was used to easy.
The need to challenge her bit deep. Irresistible. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked.
“No.”
“You ready for your second lesson?”
Her eyes widened. “Now?”
“Today’s subject is spontaneity.” He improvised. Spontaneously. “There’s nothing like spontaneous sex.”