Dirty Curve

“I told you I was no good.”

“I believe you now.”

She laughs, dropping her head back, and my eyes fly to the slender length of her neck.

I bet it’s smooth and soft, a spot that fires her up.

Right then, her hand lifts, gently encasing it as if to rub the heat beaming down from above away. She’s facing forward right as I reach her, and as her eyes lock on mine, the ball falls from my hand.

With a small frown, she bends to pick it up, and as she stands, I can’t stop myself, I dart a hand out, catch her around the wrist.

She tenses, her gaze snapping to mine, and while she swallows, she doesn’t pull away. So, I tug her into me. I’m talking right on me.

Her copper eyes are wide and unsure, a little uneasy but a little more intrigued.

I shift a little closer and she chases a choppy breath.

Gliding my thumb a little higher on her wrist, I press right over her pounding pulse, not missing how it begins to knock a little harder.

Her fingers tighten around the ball and heat builds in my gut.

I want to feel her tighten around me.

Tense under me.

Moan for me.

She swallows. “I should go.”

“I should kiss you.”

“Tobias—”

“I might fucking kiss you.”

“Please don’t,” she begs, and now all I can think about is driving her mad, fucking wild, until she begs for something else.

My eyes flick to her lips, my tongue coming out to drag along my own. “Make me a promise and I won’t.”

Her feet shuffle nervously. “What kind of promise?”

“That when you want to kiss me, you will.”

“I ...” She looks down, but I use my knuckle to bring her focus right back.

“Promise me, and if you never want to, it won’t matter.”

But you’ll want to. I’m thinking you already do ...

She nibbles on her lower lip and my chest rumbles against hers.

I want to pull it in my mouth, apologize to it for the torture she’s inflicting, and then cause some of my own. I want to taste her so fucking bad.

Meyer’s features pull, and her answer is nothing more than a harrowing whisper. “Okay.”

My muscles flex. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” She nods, attempting to pull free, but I’m not quite ready to let go, not even when she tries and fails to change the subject with her next breath. “You know, if you pass this exam and your midterm next week, you’ll have your eighty percent in this class.”

“Kinda want the girl more.”

She cuts her eyes away, chastising herself. “You were supposed to be an asshole.”

My chuckle is heady, and my palm slides into her hair. “Did I disappoint?”

Reluctantly, she smiles up at me, but it holds that hint of heavy she always seems to carry, and I know.

“You have to go.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, her fingers twitching beneath mine. “I really do.”

I hate it and it takes a fuck-ton of strength, but I force my hand to fall from hers and take a single step away.

“See you on Thursday, Tutor Girl.”

At first, she hesitates, as if maybe she doesn’t want or can’t bring herself to go, and I wonder if she might just stay, but she doesn’t.

She takes slow, backward steps away from me, and then spins to grab her things.

I pack up as she does, trying to ignore how she leaves without another word, but just as I get the last ball in the bucket, she calls out.

“You didn’t, by the way.”

My head lifts, finding her just outside the fence, maybe thirty feet away.

I rest my arm on the net, nodding my chin. “Didn’t what, Tutor Girl?”

“Disappoint.” Her smile is hidden, but her words are strong. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

My grin is instant, but she turns away before giving me hers.

I know it’s there, though.

I can feel it.

q

I had to cancel on Meyer tonight due to a mandatory film session with the team, and our next session isn’t until Sunday. I could wait, but I’d rather not, so instead of hiding out in the dark tonight and silently making sure she gets home safe, I decide the burger joint is where I’ll be eating dinner.

I spot her through the painted glass the second I pull into the parking lot, that forever bun on top of her head.

She’s got a pitcher in one hand and a tray in the other, and the second I walk through the door, her eyes pop up to mine.

At first, she freezes, but slowly, a smile spreads along her lips and she walks over with a single brow raised. “Table for one or is your date coming?”

“Nah, she couldn’t make it.” I shrug, bringing myself closer to her. “She’s working at this little burger joint in town.”

Playfully flicking her eyes to the ceiling, she leads me to the bar top in front of the cooks, so I plant my ass on one of the round stools, leaning forward as she steps around the counter.