Taming His Tutor (Entangled Brazen) (4 page)

“No?” Heart tripping, Abbi looked up at him, carefully pressing her palms on his chest and determinedly not licking her lips—no matter how dry and needy they felt. First base sounded like a great idea to her. His lips on hers? His tongue?

“No. Here’s why I prefer basketball—”

“You’re saying that in baseball HQ?” she interrupted, unable to restrain a small laugh.

“I don’t mind taking risks,” he answered, his grin chasing away the intense expression of a second ago. “And the thing I like about basketball is the creativity it offers the players. I can go for the behind-the-back pass, jump over, strip, swipe, tip in… I think it’s more fun when you don’t know where the player is going to go…as opposed to boring old ‘first base.’”

Huh. “Okay…” She could go with the creative idea. Anticipation licked through her. “So what’s your favorite move?”

“I have several.” His hands firm on her waist, he turned her like they were dancing, swapping their positions so suddenly she was the one with her back to the door and he was right in front of her.

Several? Of course he did.

He let go of her and braced his hands on the door on either side of her. “I like to be unpredictable.”

“I bet you do,” she whispered. She had no problem maintaining eye contact now. Nadia would be proud of her.

Except it was more than the four seconds. She’d descended into stalker stare. But there was no tearing her gaze from his.

He leaned over her, bending to bring his big body devastatingly close. “What is it you’re after here? To have sex as soon as possible, or to be so alluring you have every guy present hanging on your every word?”

Uh, what other guys were present? There was only one guy in here. Joe. So, duh. With him? Have sex as soon as possible. There was much she could learn from him, right? And it was all about learning…

He stared at her. “Abbi?”

She swallowed.

He lifted a hand and ran a featherlight finger across her lower lip. Abbi’s blood rushed, making her lips full and hot.

His
lips quirked. “You’re that hungry?”

His fingers dropped from her mouth, landing firmly on her thigh, swiftly, easily sliding upward, inward.

Abbi sucked in a shocked breath. “We…uh…shouldn’t…” she barely whispered.

“Sure we should…” He pressed in closer to the door, partly turning to rest his shoulder against the wood, but keeping his body angled in toward hers enough to keep her his prisoner.

His willing prisoner, what with his hand working its way up to where she was already wet. Stunned, she watched him, waited. Ached.

“We’re alone,” he pointed out oh-so-not-innocently.

And he was
so
close. So big. And in an instant she wanted everything.

“You check all the venues for private places?” she asked, trying to stay coherent in spite of the boldness—the brilliance—of his moves.

Oh man, his fingers slid higher, firmer up her thigh. He was gazing so hotly, so deeply into her eyes. He was so damn close, and suddenly so was
she
. She just had to rock her hips that little bit.

“I know my way around sports facilities,” he said softly, not stopping the skillful slide of his fingers, not lessening his intensity one degree. “There are always small meeting rooms in the corporate entertainment area.”

She wasn’t really listening. She was looking—those eyes, that height, the sheer, overwhelming
masculinity
of him.

And she was feeling. A firm touch. Bold, knowing, teasing. He stroked her inner thigh. Teased his way higher. She drew in another sharp breath, watched the intense darkness swallow his emerald irises. Beautiful man.

“So we’re…having a meeting?” She swallowed, heat billowing over her. She felt like they were lost in a heated fog, only the two of them.

“We’re having a moment.”

Oh, they were. And she wanted it. She’d been wanting it all day. Succumbing to temptation, to that overwhelming heat, she spread her legs just the slightest, allowing him greater access—fully regretting the trousers. If only she’d gone with a skirt, he could have her panties off already.

But even as he pressed at the uppermost point between her thighs, she closed her legs and clenched on him, imprisoning his hand. This couldn’t happen. Not here. Not now. There were people just on the other side of the door. Thousands of people. And this was Joe Fuller—wanting to touch
her
?

“So tense. So busy thinking,” he chided. “You really need to relax.”

“Touching me like…
that
…here isn’t going to help me relax.” She didn’t do this. Didn’t get turned on in a heartbeat. Didn’t want all kinds of wicked without any thought to what might happen later.

“Sure it is.”

Even with the limited room she’d given him to move, he hit her groove with his middle finger and pressed his thumb on her clit. Yeah, even blinded by clothing, the man knew his way around the female form. She shivered as a tremor of pleasure racked her. She looked up and was caught again. Watching her intently, that half smile twisting his lips, he ever so cleverly stroked his fingers. Need jackknifed through her. She felt nothing but the raw desire to open up and allow him in as far as he could go.

He was a man-mountain. Taller than anyone else she’d ever met. And she wanted to hang on and wrap her legs around him. Instead, she curled her fingers into tight, needy fists. This so couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be about to—

“You’re damn hot,” he whispered, his fingers rubbing faster against her as she rocked her hips in time to meet his rough hand.

Oh, she was. Burning up.

She rested her head back against the door as he stroked her. Speechless, and breathless, she ached for more of his touches.

This was crazy. But still it wasn’t enough.

Feverish, she closed her eyes and rocked her hips on his fast-flicking hand. Damn, why wasn’t she naked? Why wasn’t he inside her already?

More. More.
She needed more of his infuriating, delicious teasing.

“Look at me.”

She gazed up at him but her vision was glazed over with passion. He was here, all big and strong and touching her—pushing her…

“Stop thinking and let go, Abbi,” he commanded. “Ride it. Ride me.”

He rubbed harder, tipping her over the edge.

O. M. Fucking.
G.

She gasped, her concentration turning inward as her body contracted on the waves of ecstasy. But even as she climaxed, she was astounded. She all but squealed with the pleasure and surprise.

So
easy
. So good.

“Look at that,” he murmured with all the laconic touch of a cliché cowboy. “Sometimes you
can
hit a home run without touching first base.”

Chapter Five

A little innuendo goes a long way…

Home run?
Abbi drew in a stunned breath. She needed more. So much more. She needed the big bat. She needed him naked and thrusting.

She might only have the one chance at this. Ever. And if she didn’t go for it, she’d regret it. “Trying to nail a home run without touching first base? Surely that means it doesn’t count?” She breathed out. “Wouldn’t it be cheating?”

His burning expression turned into something else. But she didn’t have a chance to try to analyze it. He grabbed her waist, pulling her up onto her tiptoes as he bent and crashed his mouth down hard on hers.

First. Fucking. Base.

This was no soft brush of the lips, no tentative teasing first touch. This was hot, demanding. Hard.

She gasped. He instantly took advantage, running his tongue between her parted lips, forcing them farther apart. His tongue swirled into her mouth, licking her inside. Making her want him to work that magic elsewhere.

He lifted her higher and stepped closer, pushing her harder against door with a slight thud, crushing the air from her lungs.

Who was she kidding? She’d stopped breathing minutes ago when he’d looked at her like that. He lifted his head and looked at her again.

The veneer gone, all that remained was lust.

Lust was good.

He let go of her waist and gripped her hands, stopping her from curling them around his neck. Instead he held them out to the side, pinning her to the door and pressing against her. The wood was cold and hard on the backs of her hands. Joe was hot but even harder. His erection dug into her belly.

Thank heavens
.

She needed it. The orgasm hadn’t satisfied—instead it had aggravated the hunger inside her. She arched her neck, tilting her head so her lips were his to own. And he took full possession. His mouth ravaged. Long, hungry, rhythmic sucks, his tongue stroking in a demanding circular exploration of her mouth.

She tried to kiss back, to suck back.

But the languor was invading.

Deep in her belly that warm poison was spreading. Loosening her limbs, her muscles, her mind. She rested her head on the wood behind her—letting him go as deep as he liked in her mouth. Wishing he’d go as deep as he could inside her.

How could he do this with just a kiss?

But it wasn’t just a kiss. It was an all-out sexual onslaught.

His hands tightened on her wrists. He was taller, bigger, and he used every ounce of his vastly superior size to dominate her.

And she liked the helplessness. Relished the way he was ravishing her. She wanted him to do everything.

Her skin tightened, ultrasensitive. Clothes. Why was she still wearing clothes that hindered his access?

“You want me to fuck you,” he muttered harshly into her ear. “You want some big strong man to carry you off and make you come. Repeatedly. You want that man to be me.”

She gasped at his blunt arrogance. Pride made her lash out. “You’re full of it.”

“Absolutely. And you want it.” He grasped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze again. “You want me. Say it?”

He was so arrogant. But the worst thing was, she didn’t care. He saw right through her. She wanted it all. And just him stating it had her on the edge of another intense orgasm. How in the hell was that possible?

Damned if she could pull herself together enough to answer. All she managed was to open her mouth.

He pressed against her, kissing her full on the lips again. Fucking her mouth with his tongue until she was hot, melting, and writhing. She needed him to touch her, wanted his big hand to slide up her thigh again. Only this time she wanted him to go further. She wanted him to shove his hand down her waistband, pull aside her panties, and thrust deep. Fingers, cock, tongue.

She hurt with wanting so much. All of him.

He thrust his muscular thigh between hers and rocked his pelvis against her in slow, rough moves. And she just let him. He muttered between kisses. Talking dirty—telling her what he knew she wanted him to do. Turning her on in a way she never would have expected.

More
. But she didn’t ask, didn’t move…it was all she could do to stay upright.

…

Brake, brake, brake.

Joe lifted his head and silently regarded her. What had started as a tease was out of hand; he was seconds from seeing through a raging fuck-fest. He knew he should pull her away from the door so he could open it and steer them both back to the crowded bar. It was that or pull her pants to her thighs, whip out his cock, and shove it inside her in the next two seconds.
So
not the smooth moves he was used to. What was with this sudden psycho urge to screw her ASAP? He never felt this out-of-control hot and hard for a woman. Sex had always come carefree and easy and
fun
. That’s how he liked it. Wanted it. Would have it.

Just for fun.

He took what was offered, never pushed for more. He sure as hell was pushing now—imprisoning her, using every touch to make her want him. Demanding she admit it and offer—what? More than what he was used to?

This driving urge was
all
more than he was used to.

But seeing that guy Pete eat her with his eyes? Standing so close to her? He’d been so damn obvious about what he wanted to do.

No matter that it was exactly what
Joe
wanted to do. He wasn’t going to stand for another guy offering it. No, if Abbi wanted to practice her moves, then he was going to be her sparring partner.

He’d had to stake his claim. But shit, that had escalated in a moment he hadn’t originally intended. At least, not so soon. And now? Lust was rampaging through him. The things he wanted to do—now, hard, fast, again.

She’d gone off like a firecracker in less than five. Watching her come? Watching her eyes glaze and her lips part? Hearing her breathless little sigh?

Her compliance turned him on so tight he was about to burst. Somehow she’d unleashed a temptation he didn’t think he could resist.

When had he ever wanted a woman like this? Until now he’d just taken what a woman offered—taken less. A fuck or five and a wave good-bye.

But Abbi? He wanted to push her into letting him do
anything
…

His cock strained harder against his jeans. His body screamed to be buried in her tight, wet heat. The want in his gut was so bad, he hurt worse than when he’d fallen and his bone had smashed through muscle and skin on live TV.

He wanted her
too
bad.

He should walk away. Joe
always
had to be able to walk away. He could take it or leave it. Anything. He needed nothing from no one.
Ever
.

But for the life of him, he couldn’t peel his hands from where they pressed against the door on either side of her head.

Imprisoning her.

A door slammed nearby. A shout of laughter echoed even louder as a bunch of supporters walked right by the room they were using. Hell, they were at a baseball game with thousands of other people, hardly out of public view, and he was almost at the point of fucking her. He loved sex, but he wasn’t an exhibitionist.

None of this was Joe’s usual modus operandi. He might play but he didn’t risk public displays of lust. Maybe it was from too many years in the sports media and all the training from team management, warning them to avoid groupie trouble. Clearly he’d been working too hard recently and needed a blowout.

She didn’t deserve to be taken in such an out-of-control fashion. It’d be over in less than five seconds the way he was feeling.
He’d
never been so out of control. Never been so angry. Never been so turned on. Never wanted a woman so badly.

But Abbi deserved better.

Fuck
.

This should be slower. Less intense. Was she really ready for this kind of casual screw, even with that wannabe vixen cloak and spurt of sassy talk? Least he could do was hit pause and double-check. And gain some control.

But before his very eyes she was retreating. He straightened, lowered his arms to his sides. She visibly pulled herself together and fixed her clothes, stepping to the side now that he’d backed off.

“You wanna check out the game?” he asked, meaning whatever kind of game she wanted. He wanted to see what she’d say—whether she could maintain that playful talk.

But she didn’t say anything. She’d reverted to shy silence. Hell, she even blushed.

“Come on,” he said, suddenly irritated with himself because he shouldn’t care.

But he did.

They walked out into the corridor, smack into the middle of a crowd of hyped baseball supporters.

“Hey, it’s Joe Fuller!”

He tensed. He’d long since learned that while die-hard sports fans had their favorite sports, they liked talking
any
kind of sport. And they liked nothing more than talking sport to a pro. Even an ex-pro like him.

“Man, how’s your leg?” The one who’d recognized him followed up with the inevitable. “That was a shocker…”

Never mind that it had been healed a couple of years now; thanks to the internet, people could see that horror as often as they wanted. Like it was yesterday.

“I’m good, thanks.” But he wasn’t. Abbi was three feet away from him and letting herself get pushed farther away from him as the group of guys stepped closer. Guys who’d clearly been making the most of the corporate box’s complimentary drinks.

“Wow, that second-to-last game you played? It was—”

Joe’s brows lifted, even as he tuned out. This guy was a basketball freak, but now really wasn’t the time.

“Hang on a sec. Hey Abbi—” he called over to her.

She smiled, but it was a strained one. “Don’t worry. You stay and talk. I’ll get going. Ball games aren’t really my thing.”

He didn’t want her to leave. Not yet. Not without talking. “Abbi—”

But was a repeat of this morning already—a quick flick of the wrist, this time a wave, and she was gone.

“Sorry, dude.” The basketball fan looked so apologetic it was comical. “You better go after her. She’s—”

Joe gave the guy a hard look and lifted his hand.

Silence.

“Sorry,” the guy mumbled again.

“Don’t worry about it.” Joe forced a smile to settle things.

Once again he was faced with a choice. And once again, he let her run. He knew he’d gone too fast. For all her wannabe vixen attitude, Abbi was still a go-slow kind of girl. She’d escaped the first chance she’d gotten. And probably, wasn’t that for the best?

She’d be better off without him.

That was a fact.

…

Five minutes later Abbi slumped in the backseat of the taxi, innards stewing in a hot soup of deflated desire, embarrassment, and confusion.

Her lower belly burned as she remembered how hard he’d slammed against her, how demandingly he’d kissed her, his tongue caressing so deeply.

But to go from so hot to so rejected so quickly?

That hurt plenty. That ripped the Band-Aid off her cut-up confidence. She’d thought he was as into it as she was. He’d kissed her like she was the most delicious dessert he’d ever tasted. He’d been turned on—his erection had been massive, hard, had to be uncomfortable so tightly constrained in his jeans.

But he’d stopped.

Of course he’d stopped.

She knew why. Same old reason. She’d been passive. Boring. Overwhelmed. Her hands had pressed against the wood even when he hadn’t been pinning them there. Letting him do all the work. He’d probably thought it was like kissing a crash-test dummy.

It was official. Scott had been right. After the initial schoolboy excitement of scoring a woman with big boobs, he’d reckoned the reality of screwing her was boring because she was so dull.

She’d wanted to get the moves—use all that app info. But when Joe had kissed her, all thoughts of technique flew right out of her head. All other thoughts as well. She’d barely been able to stay standing, let alone turn on the sexy skills. She’d failed again already.

And it hurt. So did the frustration. Because she’d almost had it—her first taste of truly fantastic sex. But she’d fucked it up.

Maybe she should unwrap Nadia’s hot-pink vibrating helper when she got home and get herself off. She ached with the emptiness, her clit sensitive and yearning for touch. But she was too depressed to get into the headspace. It just wasn’t what she wanted.

She wanted Joe.

He didn’t want her.