Taming His Tutor (Entangled Brazen) (6 page)

He stared at her for a long moment—his expression edgy. Then he nodded. “That’s fair. That’s a good idea.”

“They’re launching my app at the magazine’s third anniversary party a week from Friday. I’ll need the testing to be complete by then. Six lessons in less than a fortnight. Can you deliver?” She slipped easily into IT boss mode.

“Of course.”

“Starting now.” She was wet already, and that was only from standing pressed against him for a few minutes.

“Ever the eager, diligent student.” His teasing smile flashed, softening the harsh hunger in his eyes. “That chocolate having an effect, huh?”

“Chocolate is no substitute for sex.” And she’d only had a couple sips. The effect was all from Joe. To have the guy she’d felt the first stirrings of lust for finally be hard against her? Total turn-on.

He chuckled again. But his emerald eyes glinted with something harder.

“All right then.” He palmed her butt, massaging her against him. “Kiss me.”

Heat balled in her lower belly. “Now?”

“You’re the one who’s so keen on first base.” His gaze lowered, focusing on her mouth. His voice lowered too. “And there’s nothing sexier than red, puffy lips—and knowing I’m the one who made them that swollen and sensitive.”

Oh my.

He lifted his gaze back to hers. “Give me a taste of what might come later. A flash that’s going to leave me wanting.”

Oh hell. How was she to manage that? Her mind blanked. Where were all the data she’d accrued? He was such a tease.

Tease
.

She had the answer.

She untangled herself from his encircling arms and held the steaming cup out of harm’s way as she studied that mouth of his—full, slightly parted, and begging to be nibbled on. And she already knew how wickedly he could work his tongue. Her own lips parted and she rose on tiptoe, pressed ever so slightly closer.

But at the last second she pulled back. And then looked up at him.

He was standing like a rock—waiting. Watching.

She smiled at him, but before he could open his mouth and say anything, she reached up and did it again. A flyby of lips. An almost-kiss. A withdrawal at the last second.

A tease.

She watched him, saw the gleam in his eye. He knew she was about to do it again, so what was he going to do about it?

Anticipation swelling, she rose onto tiptoe to bring her lips to within kissing distance of his one more time. Only he put his hand to the back of her head and held her there—all stretched up on tiptoe.

“Are you playing chicken with me?” he asked so very softly.
Lethally
.

She froze, a whisper away. The warmth of his breath skittered over her sensitive lips.

“Because I’m no chicken,” he warned. “Are you?”

Not this second. This second she wanted to kiss him.

“Stop toying, Abbi. Kiss me.”

Now that wasn’t a playful request. That was a blunt demand that promised retribution if it wasn’t obeyed.

Excitement poured through her veins, obliterating all thought.

She tossed the paper cup over her shoulder, barely hearing the splash as the remaining hot chocolate hit the ground. She flattened her hands on his broad chest, then reached up, straining high to press her body against his—big breasts to flat chest, stomach to steel abs, soft mound to hard cock. She looped her arms around his neck, liking the way it made her nipples rub against his tee. She lifted her chin and brushed her lips over his again.

His hand tangled in her hair, holding it right by the roots so she couldn’t turn her head to the left or the right. His other hand slammed right around the curve of her butt. He lifted her higher and ground her against him. He was a wall of heat and strength.

His lips came down hard, and his tongue swept into her mouth and stroked first shallowly, then deeply, moving in lush, claiming circles. He explored ruthlessly, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. Not that she cared.

He was so overwhelming. He nipped, then sucked on her lip. His actions were strong, powerful, and hard.

She melted against him, glad of the physical support he gave her. It was all she could do to stay upright. She was so hot, so wet. She ached to be naked beneath him while he thrust in and out of her. She moaned as the full force of her hunger hit. All the frustration and pent-up excitement from the night before slammed into her. She tightened her grip, hauling herself higher up his body, wriggling to get closer still.

But he lifted his mouth. “How’s that systems upgrade going?”

“Um…” Systems upgrade? She struggled to switch her brain back to functioning. “I’m done for the day.”

“Then come with me.”

Yes, please.
“I just need to make sure the office is secure.”

“I’ll wait here.” He lowered her and pushed her away. “Be quick.”

Dazed, Abbi bent and grabbed the paper cup from the pavement. She scrunched it as she took it inside the building and dropped it into the trash. Then she ran.

When she reemerged from the building less than five minutes later, he was exactly where she’d left him. Only he looked a little steamed and sweaty again. She raised her brows at him.

“I ran up and down the street to work off some energy.”

He didn’t want to conserve it for her?

He laughed, obviously reading her expression. “Trust me, Abbi. I’ll see you sated.”

Oh. My
.

Chapter Seven

“Remember there’s a fine line between him thinking you’re mysterious, and just not interested—”

Joe held Abbi’s hand tightly as he walked her to his home. The urge to keep her near was uncontrollable. He’d come here to apologize and walk away. So how had he managed to end up offering to teach her seduction? To be a sex goddess?

Fuck
.

He’d never met a woman so unaware of her sizzling sensuality. And Abbi’s was sizzling. She really didn’t get that she didn’t need to unleash any inner vixen. She already
was
a vixen. Those curves? That mouth? Those eyes? Hell, nothing had ever felt as good as last night, when her body had quivered and broken apart in his hold.

But she didn’t believe it.

Well, he’d happily spend some time helping her understand how hot she was. How hot she’d always been. He’d felt a searing spike of jealousy when she mentioned her ex-boyfriend. It was worse than when he’d watched her look at that jerk at the baseball game last night. And still he wondered why she really wanted to release her inner vixen—was there some guy out there she wanted? Did she want the ex back?

His muscles bunched as his blood began to boil.

Not good, Fuller. Bad form
.

Joe wasn’t the jealous type. Never got possessive.

Take it or leave it.
Easy.

He glanced at his watch and frowned. “You don’t have other plans for today?”

“Nothing I can’t adjust.”

Good
. Every single one of his muscles flexed in anticipation. Within two minutes of her kissing him, he’d been ready to break into her building and fuck her on the lobby floor.

She had no idea what she could do to a guy.

He was going to teach her. He had six lessons. Already his mind was spinning ahead, dreaming up situations and scenarios in which he could tease her, how he could encourage her to ask for what she wanted, the things he could show her how to do…

Rein it in
. He nearly groaned.

Because though this was what she’d asked for, for some reason he had this crazy noble angel whispering in his ear—to give her the space to be sure this was what she wanted. Because it still niggled. Had quiet, shy, good-girl Abbi really changed all that much? Or was it that he’d never really known her?

This first lesson was going to have to be slow. All about anticipation and pleasure.
Her
pleasure. He’d prove to her that her body had been designed to perfection and that first up, all she had to do was enjoy it. He already knew she’d be a generous, willing lover, and he’d help her realize it in the coming lessons. He just had to survive this first.

…

Abbi’s arousal increased with every step she took. It was insane that just his proximity could do this to her. That and the knowledge that in a few minutes she was going to let him do whatever he wanted. Instruct her. Teach her. Take her.

She could hardly wait.

“Almost there.” His voice sounded husky.

The last few minutes they’d been walking in silence—the occasional squeeze of his fingers around hers the only communication.

Now Abbi heard the thumping, fast-BPM music as they rounded the corner. There was a chorus of “Hey Joe,” and she wanted to hide.

His hand gripped hers all the more tightly. Curiosity got the better of her anyway and she walked in.

His gym was a converted warehouse—a giant brick building. She’d had no idea it was so close to her own apartment. But she’d only been back in San Francisco for a couple of months and had spent most of that time getting her head around her new job more than the neighborhood.

“It’s amazing. You converted this?” She stared around the massive space.

Sure, it was a gym, but it had this kind of industrial chic about it. The exposed beams and brickwork were awesome and she looked at the cool little café right at the front with interest. But Joe kept her walking. Past the sleek but stylish reception desk, she could see a giant open-plan room with weights and equipment around it. There was a class going on now—a tribe of about ten guys and a couple of girls, powering their way through some scary-looking circuit while an instructor bellowed support and instructions. Abbi stared for a second at their ultra-honed bodies and then forced herself to look further. To the far side of them, a lap pool gleamed.

It was a gorgeous pool. Not huge, but large enough for three lanes of swimmers. Two of the lanes were currently occupied with swimmers going end to end to end and back again. At the back wall, steam rose from a square spa. Abbi’s skin tingled. She did like a spa.

“Come on.” Joe tugged on her hand, making her walk again.

The stairs were wooden and had steel banisters. On the second floor she glanced in the windows of the rooms they walked past.

“For the yoga and dance classes,” he explained.

Again, all the wood was beautiful. “You take the dance classes?”

He laughed. “I can if necessary, but I’m more the outdoor training guy. Back downstairs with the weights, then we go running to the park.”

“It’s an amazing place.” Functional, yes, but lovely and cleverly laid out. “It’s like an entertainment venue,” she observed.

“Why shouldn’t exercise be entertaining?” Joe turned to her and winked. “If it’s fun, people have a good time, they’re more likely to come back, right?”

“I work out,” she teased, feeling more confident now that they’d struck their bargain. “The app reminds me to. Five sessions of ten reps a day.”

“Ten reps of what?”

She batted her lashes. “My most useful muscles.”

He bent and caught her earlobe with his teeth, giving her a sharp nip that sent a sizzle straight to her womb and made her work those muscles then and there.

“Not bad, baby vixen. Not bad at all.” He leaned back just enough to look down her body. “I want to see you working out.”

“I’m working out right now.” Yep, still clenching her inner muscles, wishing she were clenching on him instead of the dull-aching emptiness.

“I can’t see it.”

“If you’re lucky, you might get to feel it.”

“Now that’s the bait. You have me hooked.” He put his hands on her hips and pulled her close against him.

He half laughed, half groaned. “Here’s your first lesson: anticipation heightens response.” He leaned in. “Arouse. Then pause. It’ll heighten arousal.”

“Delayed gratification?” She shook her head. She’d been delayed over twelve hours already. An entire night tossing and turning and
dreaming
. “It’s so not what it’s cracked up to be.”

“No?” He reached out to cup her cheek.

“No,” she whispered, unable to hide the thread of yearning in her voice.

His face tightened and he stepped closer. “The things you make me want to do, Abbi. It’s…”

“What?”

His smile faded. “You don’t want to know.”

She put her hand on his wrist, stopping him from withdrawing. “That’s not fair. I do want to know. That’s the whole point of this, right?” She stared up at him.

“Fine. I want to strip you bare, I want to bite on your softest curves, I want to eat you out until you come on my mouth, I want to fuck you so hard you scream loud enough for everyone on the block to hear. Then I want to flip you over and do it again with you on your knees, begging me so loudly and long you lose your voice.” He pushed her backward against the wall. “Is that what you want?”

That was
exactly
what she wanted. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.” Abbi reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and melted against him. Falling into the kiss, letting him go as deeply as he liked.

And he liked it deep.

Her upper thighs quivered. There was no way she was going to be able to wait much longer. “So”—she sent him an innocent look—“what do we do now?”

“I’m not going to take you upstairs and fuck you senseless.”

He
wasn’t
?

He burst out laughing. “The look on your face.” He framed her cheeks with his palms. “Not yet, Abbi.”

“Why not?” She leaned closer. “Isn’t that what this is all about? Why the delay? I want to learn. I need to learn.”

He nodded. “We need to work on the basics first.”

“What’s more basic?” She wanted him so bad. How could he do this to her—parade his body, smile, tease and not physically fulfill? She was on edge. Aching. Needy.

His eyes rested on her, his smile tight. “You’re really wound up.”

She refused to answer. She was angry with him. She tried to pull back but his grip tightened. “You’re all talk, you know that?”

“Talk is a good place to start, and you don’t talk enough,” he said. “Though you’re not bad with the flirty innuendo. Yesterday you set me on fire with your pole-dancing tease.”

She shook her head. “It was too much, too soon.”

“No.” He ran a finger around her lips. “Added to the eye contact and the dress, you had me hard in a heartbeat. Abbi, if it’s sex you want, you only have to show off your curves.”

“It takes more than curves to please a guy.” She shook her head. “Once interest is lit, I still need to follow through.”

He looked pensive.

“I think getting the balance right between being assertive and being aggressive is difficult to master,” she said huskily.

“I think you just need to be yourself. Be honest. Communicate your needs.”

“That doesn’t work.” She lifted a hand in frustration. “I’m missing something. Technique.”

“I don’t think it’s about tricks,” he said.

She sighed. “So what is it then? And don’t you dare say ‘confidence’—all the articles say confidence and none explain how to acquire it.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“And what if she’s shy?” Abbi asked, all the more irritated.

“All she has to do is smile.”

Only smile?
That’s it? That was his brilliant advice for the day? Her first lesson better not be over already or she’d have to kill him.

“It’s true.” He half laughed. “Your eyes—the way you’ve been watching me? Very good. Body language—the licking of your lips, the brushing back of your hair… all good.”

That hadn’t been intentional. She hadn’t even been aware she was doing it.

“You know,” he said softly, “the more sexually charged the atmosphere, the more chance of having multiple orgasms.”

“And you would know this because?”

He smiled. “So much of it is in the mind.”

He
was in her mind. But he liked the way she’d been watching him? She decided to look at him some more. She peered up at him from under her lashes. “Joe?” she whispered.

“Quit it, you’re making this really hard for me.” He glared at her, his body rigid.

The pleasure of triumph washed through her. “Good.”

“Let’s get upstairs.” He swallowed. “But we’re not having sex. We’ll play, but not all the way this time. Vixens don’t give it all up on the first date.”

Not having sex? What did he mean not having sex?

“Leaving him wanting, building that anticipation—the atmosphere,” he said as he led the way. “That’ll seal it for you later.”

“But wasn’t last night our first date?” she asked innocently as she followed him.

He paused on the staircase and sent her a fierce look back. “You can try to make me change my mind if you like.”

She’d never claimed she’d be a good vixen.

They took the stairs to the next level—past the sign labeled
Private
, and to a big steel door. He took a key from his pocket and punched a code into the number pad on the wall beside the entrance.

Then he opened it and stepped inside. He turned and looked at her from across the threshold. “Coming?”

She took a couple of steps. He reached out and with a flick of his hand slammed the door shut behind her.

All senses screaming, Abbi faced him.

He held her gaze as he walked back toward her with that slow, confident gait. Within a couple of paces he reached her, his smile twisted, and to her surprise, he dropped to his knees.

“Are you really ready for me?” he asked huskily.

The sight of Joe Fuller kneeling before her and looking that filled with lust did something to her. Something hot and fierce flipped over in her belly.

Confidence.

No, more than that.
Aggression
stirred.

She was sick of waiting. Sick of watching. Now she just
wanted
.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” she said, staring down at him. “You have my permission.”

His whole body stiffened. He shot her a burning look. “Good to know.”

He reached forward, curling his hands around her ankles like shackles. “What else do I need your permission for?” he drawled so very slowly. “Tell me. Honestly.”

She had six sessions. Six sessions to get the most out of, to learn, to satisfy, to indulge. With nothing to lose, Abbi gave herself over to fantasy. “Everything.”

His brows lifted in a quick flash, his jaw firmed, and so did his grip on her ankles. “I need more detail. Am I allowed to push up your skirt?”

“Yes.”

“Am I allowed to remove your panties?”

“Yes.”

“Am I allowed to run my tongue across your swollen clit and bury it inside of your hot pussy?”

She squeezed her inner muscles tight, so turned on, so stunned, she could hardly speak. “You’re not allowed to stop until I come.”

She was only a stroke away from it anyway.

The most wicked smile spread over his face. He looked like a man born to serve. “Your wish is my command.”

His grip tightened. He lifted one of her feet, placing it farther from the other. Abbi drew in a deep, shaking breath as he slowly traced a single finger up the front of her shin.

It tickled slightly, causing Abbi’s concentration to shatter. She anticipated the caress to climb higher, to her knee, to her thigh. But it didn’t; instead he stopped. Then started low again—this time two fingers traced a curving, unpredictable path that set her skin ablaze.

She needed him to go higher. But still he didn’t. Still he moved—so deliciously, so not enough.

“Please,” she whispered.

At that, he finally rose on his knees, bunching her skirt in his fists as he did and pushing it up. He leaned in, his hot breath blew over her thighs, and then he inhaled deeply.