Taming His Tutor(4)

By: Natalie Anderson

“How hard do you like things to get, Abigail?”

“I—” Can’t think.

She touched her tongue to her dry-as-dust lips. Her nipples were harder than titanium right now, and frankly hurt. They needed soothing to take the ache away. Some kind of hot, wet soothing. She stared some more at his mouth. Touched her tongue again to her lips without thinking, only wanting to feel.

“Excuse me. Sorry.” A random pedestrian jostled past.

Dazed, Abbi briefly glanced after the passerby; actually, there were three of them, taking up all the sidewalk…

Finally she snapped out of that insane sensual haze.


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.

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