Taming His Tutor

Finally she snapped out of that insane sensual haze.

WTF?

She looked back at Joe, stunned again as she absorbed her own reaction. Since when did she want like this? So fast and hot and crazy. She’d never felt this for Scott. Never ached to rip his clothes off and rub herself against his abs—and below. Certainly not within five seconds of laying eyes on him. She’d never wanted to press herself forward like some kind of sexual offering. This total insta-lust wasn’t normal, was it?

She froze. Maybe it was? Maybe this was why Scott had said sex with her had sucked? Because she’d never wanted him like this?

“How hard do you want me to get?”

Joe’s words ricocheted through her body, stoking the fire that had so swiftly flared. Her focus shot back to his eyes. She felt branded. From skin through to bone, desire burned. But she was paralyzed—her brain, body, every bit of her.

Too hot. Too crazy.

Damn. She hated being unable to think. Hated being rendered speechless. It rarely happened; she rarely let it happen. Because it wasn’t her—she wasn’t literally dumb in this way.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she muttered jerkily. Why had she thought talking sexy would be a good idea? Too much. Too soon. She was on a learner’s license—she shouldn’t be trying to drive a Ferrari.

He laughed. “You started it.” Amusement danced in his face—tangoing with something a touch more sinful. “We’re both adults. No age of consent issues now.”

Her jaw dropped. As if there’d been any age of consent issues back then. She might have been ten months younger than the rest of her class, but he’d never noticed her like that.

“Anyway.” He winked at her. “What’s so fascinating you don’t stop to look for traffic?”

Before she could stop him, he picked up the earbud hanging down over her breasts.

With her brain still frozen and her body still on lockdown, she didn’t even think to hit the pause icon. Instead she tuned in—Sasha Fox had been instructing this whole time.

“The easiest access spots are above the neck. Start with his lips, because the nerve endings are very sensitive there. Rub your nipple between them but ban him from sucking or licking. He’ll be craving a taste in seconds—”

Chapter Two

“Attract many, but choose only one.”

Joe flinched as Abigail pulled the bud away from his ear. He stared at her. What kind of freaking audiobook was that?

Rub her nipple against his mouth?

Yes, please.

Now, please.

He inhaled sharply, fighting to get his body and brain back under control.

Don’t look down. Don’t check out the hourglass curves again…

Fuck, it was too late. He was already hard from just looking at her pretty, pink-tinged face. The long brunette bangs of her school days were gone, and now her hair was swept up on her head in a soft pile leaving her neck exposed—and her eyes clear. Staring into them was no hardship. Sparkling, that distinctive bright blue was offset by the black of her swiftly swelling pupils. Big, beautiful eyes. He’d noticed them all those years ago in school.

They were how he’d recognized her here today—but he’d never seen her body like this. She’d been the nerd squad’s main mascot, had always worn a huge wool scarf that had swamped her whole torso. More than that, she hadn’t just had a “don’t look and don’t touch” vibe; that edict had all but been tattooed on her forehead. No chit, no chat, it was all serious study.

It was only because of their math tutoring sessions that Joe knew what color her eyes were. Focused, intent, she’d been eager to help him. No one had ever been eager to help him like that—he’d been just another case on someone’s overwhelming workload, a source of yet more paperwork. But Abigail had looked at him like she was interested on many levels. Like she gave a damn.

It had hit him hard—he’d wanted to kiss her, touch her, see if she was as focused and eager for sex as she was for study. But she’d put her head back down and never looked him in the eye again. A couple times after their sessions had ended, he’d smiled at her, but she’d looked away. He hadn’t bothered after that. Then he’d been distracted by other girls—the ones who’d chased him.

Not even an incoming asteroid storm could distract him from her now. Yeah, those too few lessons in the freaking school library had forged a fascination with her that apparently hadn’t died.

And she was listening to a lecture about male erogenous zones? His whole frigging body was an erogenous zone and had been since he’d seen her saunter across the road right in front of that oncoming car, wearing a dress that showed off those lusher-than-lush curves.

Animal magnetism had struck at its most basic: see; want; sex.

Now the rush of red in her cheeks deepened and she looked away. He was hot under the collar too. Sex tips at ten past nine in the morning?

His former math tutor had gone all temptress on him and he couldn’t be more shocked than if a pig were to fly right by. How often did teenage fantasies become walking realities?

She was within reach, yet just out of it.

Almost temptress, she’d reverted to shy again. She couldn’t even look him in the eye anymore.

He’d never had to chase a woman before; they usually offered. So for a moment he just stared at her, too stunned by seeing her to figure out how best to make his next move.

But he was so fucking making a move.

“I better get to work. I’m late,” she said.

Her voice had gone husky. Embarrassed. A random flare of protectiveness surged in his chest and he bit back his smile. Some things didn’t change all that much. She was still shy, for all the supposed pole dancing. And was she still the same studious Abigail—getting all her info from books.

Was that what this was about? She wanted to learn more about men? Hell, he couldn’t help her in any kinda relationship department, but he was more than qualified to help her with the hands-on, practical component if she wanted.

She turned away.

“No.” He reached for her wrist.

He felt her smooth warmth beneath his broad palm and had to resist the urge to clamp tighter and pull her close against him again. Her pulse beat beneath his fingers—quicker with every passing second. Her blush deepened. He waited, regulating his own breathing, tempering his own too-sharp arousal. Gently does it.

Finally she sent him a swift glance.

Pure willingness lurked in her eyes.

Adrenaline burned.

He restrained the urge to haul her to him and claim everything like some warlord from the Dark Ages.

He smiled, trying to ease the predatory hunger that was likely plastered on his face. What was with all the “must dominate” urges? He was Mr. Casual, not Mr. Must-Capture-and-Hold-Close-at-All-Costs.

“I’ll walk you to work.” That would give him more time to think of a plan.

Her lashes lowered. He felt her trying to draw away.

“Abigail?”

“Not today. Thanks.” Her murmur degenerated to a hoarse whisper.

Before he could think, she flicked her wrist free of his grip, turned, and all but ran away.

Joe hesitated, undecided. Then sighed and stayed still. He’d let her go. Despite the growing distance between them, he could see the red flush staining the back of her neck and the tips of her ears as she continued on down the sidewalk. She really was mortified.

He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned ruefully as he watched her. He hadn’t had a woman run from him ever—generally they ran to him. So maybe it was better to let her leave now and recover.

But this wasn’t over. Not when he’d seen that heat in her eyes.

He’d have to track her down. She’d be online, or he could call one of the guys from school or—

Eyes narrowing, he watched her walk in the direction he too had to go.

He’d keep an eye on her for as long as he could and give her some space. And if

she worked here in the SoMa area of San Francisco, then maybe she lived nearby too. He’d find her.

As he followed her fragrant trail, he saw the heads turning in the passing cars and inwardly chuckled. Even without the jaywalking, she was going to cause an accident.

She wasn’t hiding her body under wool now. Did she want to put her erogenous zones to their proper use? He could help her with that.

Abigail Hayes had thrown him the ball.

And Joe Fuller always had liked a game of one-on-one.