Taming His Tutor (Entangled Brazen) (13 page)

She screamed, loud and harsh and raw. Pleasure crashed in waves, hard and powerful, ricocheting through her body, catapulting her into the realm of mindless, speechless joy. She gasped, sucking in large pockets of air. She’d never had such an intense orgasm.

And now her eyes watered again. “Oh Joe. Joe, Joe, Joe…”

“I’m here.”

He eased inside her. Bigger than the vibrator, heavier, better. He levered himself up on his hands so he wasn’t pressing so hard on her, still controlling the way his pelvis rubbed against hers.

She gazed up at him, dazed by the ferocity of that climax. He was so built, so honed.

And hers.

She didn’t even know she was crying until he dropped to his elbows, gently brushing the hair at her temples with his fingers. “Abbi.”

He kissed her.

She was so glad he did. Because otherwise her stupid heart was going to mess everything up for her. She needed him to stop her from saying it. How much she wanted him. Loved this.

Loved
him
.

It was insane to even think of saying those three little words to the man who was only having sex with her as a favor. Teaching her some tricks. This was the lesson on how to play with some toys, and play with a man. Please both him and herself.

This wasn’t supposed to mean anything, and didn’t for Joe. This was his usual easy deal. And she hardly knew him anyway, right? He’d been back in her life less than a week. All that crazy, intense feeling she had for him was infatuation. It had to be. She thought he was the best thing since sliced bread just because he knew how to give her the best orgasms ever…

But her heart puckered. Because it wasn’t just that. It was Joe himself—funny, warm, loyal, caring Joe. And she needed to build herself some better defenses quick.

This is just another lesson. Nothing but another lesson.

Abbi Hayes was supposed to have been one of the most brilliant students of her year. Now she knew she was the biggest dunce.

She’d fallen in love with her tutor.

Chapter Sixteen

“Restore your femininity—take a long bath, wear lace underwear, apply lipstick with a brush…”

Joe reluctantly pulled out of the warm haven that was Abbi.

“You were right.” She sighed and rolled to her side, her eyes closed. “I wasn’t ready for lesson number four back at the beginning.”

Joe turned away, tilting his shoulders to hide his expression. Lesson number four? Hell, he’d forgotten all about the damn number of times she’d said they’d work on her stupid sex coaching. He’d forgotten this was the fourth. He’d forgotten it was any kind of coaching at all—that everything that had transpired had been all about
her
. It wasn’t practice for him any longer. It was real—the pleasure he got from being with her.

Did she really think they were going to have only a couple more nights together?

Maybe that’s all she wanted. Of course it would be. He was her stud. Her practice pony. She’d move on from this all sexually confident and ready to meet the man of her dreams. Some guy way better than him.

Joe sucked in some air, but his lungs hurt like he’d inhaled chipped glass.

Stupid. Because this was only a few screws for him too. He didn’t want anything more, didn’t have time for anything more. Truthfully he didn’t have time for this as it was. He should be completely focused on opening the second gym and expanding his fitness chain, not dreaming up different ways to screw Abbi.

“Yeah, well.” He threw back the coverlet and gave her a playful slap on her ass. “Wait ’til you see what’s on the table for number five.”

He had no fucking idea what number five was going to be. Or even if there was going to be a number five. He was just getting the hell out of here now while he could still fake a smile. “You get some sleep. I’ve just gotta catch up on a couple of things on my computer.”

“Now?”

Hell yes.

…

It was three days before Joe allowed himself to go back to her. He enforced his usual distance and space to help restore perspective. They were three long, interminable days in which he covered classes, interviewed prospective instructors, ran the financial analysis, decided on a new payroll system, met with the builders who were going to do the refit, and managed another photo shoot for his next feature in the magazine.

Even so, he spent the bulk of his time fantasizing about ways in which he could make her come.
And
ways in which he could make her talk. Often the two plans overlapped, which was pleasing, though perhaps not practical.

He spoke with her on the phone a couple of times—kept it brief even though he ached to hear more of her laughter. But she was busy, he was busy. This was a mere sideline in their lives.

She was still shy of talking much about anything personal. Jokes were fine. Discussion of news events. All good. But anything about Abbi herself? Blocked.

Joe was frustrated. And mad at himself for being so.

This shouldn’t matter.
Couldn’t
matter.

In the end he handed a class to one of his other instructors and jogged to Abbi’s place early Tuesday evening. He’d surprise her again. As he rapped his knuckles on her door, he sure as hell hoped she was home.

Less than a minute later, Abbi opened the door. Joe was instantly hard. Instantly hungry. Fuck, he wanted to be inside her.

Now.

Her eyes widened when she saw it was him. Widened more as she studied his face. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

No, he hadn’t called ahead. Maybe he should have. “You have other plans?” That thought pissed him off.

A prickle dug into his spine when she hesitated. But then she answered. “No.”

“Then am I welcome to come in?”

Her blue eyes lanced through his. And hell yes he meant that innuendo, and she knew it. All he wanted to do was pick her up, get her on her bed, and be inside her.

Talk could happen later.

“Of course.” She stepped aside so he could walk through the door. “But my place is a bit of a mess. I was sorting some stuff.”

He didn’t care about mess, but he tried to be polite. “You need a hand?”

“No.” Her laugh was a little nervous as he walked into her lounge.

He stopped and stared at her dining table.

“I know, so tragic, right?” She hurried to clear the pieces.

“Don’t pack it away.” He stepped nearer, reaching out a hand with a rueful grin. “I always wanted some of this.”

“You never played with Lego as a kid?” She stood beside him.

“Nah, but I always wanted the space rocket,” he confessed. He’d never owned any of his own. Sure as hell hadn’t
ever
had as many toys as this. Lord, was he jealous of her? “So you collect?”

Abbi nodded, her cheeks that gorgeous cherry red.

“And you actually play with it, you don’t just keep it pristine in its boxes?”

“I play with it,” she mumbled. “And I build other techie-geeky-crafty things with my 3-D printer too. So now you know.”

“Can I play with you?” He laughed at the killer look she threw him. “I mean it. It’d be fun.”

She looked at him.

“Seriously.” He laughed, holding up his hands like an innocent.

She drew in a deep breath. “Okay,” she finally agreed, her posture relaxing. “You can play with my space rocket any time.” She winked.

“Thanks. I’m going to take you up on that sometime.”

“You can take me up on your big rocket right now.” She waggled her brows at him.

He groaned and stepped after her and she backed her way down the small hallway to her bedroom. “That’s the geek version of dirty talk?”

“Uh-huuuh.” Abbi suddenly stumbled, and then quickly righted herself again in an awkward movement. “And that was the geek version of ‘sexy sashay to the boudoir.’” She rolled her eyes and sheepishly kicked at the cardboard box on the floor by her open closet. The one she’d just almost fallen over. “I was sorting through my old clothes. Getting rid of the boring. I’ll just—”

“Hang on.” Joe had spied something near the top of that box. “You still have this?” He reached in and pulled out the long woolen scarf. Total blast from the past. He was surprised at the softness of it and was instantly hit with an idea so good his cock strained tighter. And he was going with it.

…

Abbi watched him run his hand down the length of the soft scarf. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do.” He laughed as he wound one end of it around his hand and tugged, as if testing its strength. “You wore this every single day of school whether it was raining or steaming hot.”

Yeah, she had. That scarf was extra wide and extra long and had basically been her safety blanket, hiding her well-endowed breasts from the ogling eyes of the high school boys. But she’d never have thought that he noticed at the time. Let alone remembered.

He sent her a sizzling look. “Come over here.”

Her nipples hardened. She was already wet—had been from the second she’d seen him on her doorstep looking edgy and predatory. She’d been trying so damn hard to put him out of her mind, but as soon as her brain got a second of downtime it lurched to thoughts of Joe—where he was, what he was doing, wondering when he was going to call…

So lame. She didn’t want to be waiting like that. Didn’t want to be aching either, and not just for sex. But for simple
time
with him.

“You ready for your next lesson?” he asked softly, his voice practically throbbing with promise.

Abbi felt the electricity snap, but she couldn’t just roll over for him. Just because she hadn’t seen him in a couple of days didn’t mean she was going to turn sex slave in six seconds. “Your rules again?” she asked saucily.

His eyes flared—amusement, arousal, appreciation. “You have a problem with my instruction?”

She lifted a shoulder carelessly.

“You giving your teacher some lip?” he challenged.

“So what if I am?” she challenged him right back.

He glanced down at the scarf and then looked back up at her, his expression even edgier. “I think you just earned yourself some time in detention.”

Anticipation and curiosity curled tight around her nerves. Her nipples tightened, sending sizzling pulses of pre-pleasure excitement to her wet pussy.

“Detention?”

“Always begins with the student stripping.” A tiny smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

It was so obvious he had wicked, carnal plans. Again.

Hallelujah.

Truth was he was too much temptation. And ooh yeah, sex slave she was. Because she wanted
him
more than she wanted anything. She’d missed him. She whipped her tee over her head and pushed down her pants and stepped out of them. Then she looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Nice,” he said. “Now spread out on the mattress.

She stepped past him and lay on her bed, but didn’t stretch out.

“Give me your hands.”

The second she did he clasped them together.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Stupid question; she knew already.

“Binding you.” He did, too, using the scarf to secure her wrists together, and then lifted her arms above her head, tying the scarf to her headboard, so she couldn’t pull her arms down.

“With my old scarf?” What happened to silk ties?

“Fitting, don’t you think? What once hid, now exposes.” He looked down at her breasts. “You didn’t want anyone to see these back then. You’re trying, but you’re not quite comfortable with them yet.”

She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. They both knew he was right.

“But you’ll get there. Now open your legs for me.”

Desire burst in her lower belly. Wet heat surged. She couldn’t help clenching her upper thighs together. He didn’t take his eyes from hers.

“Open. Your. Legs.” He tickled her thighs with his fingers, making her squirm.

Her thighs quivered. But while she was happy to play like this, there was more she wanted. And she wasn’t afraid to ask for it anymore.

“Only if we swap after,” she breathed. “Turnabout.”

He paused and glanced up at her, his eyebrow quirked. “You want to tie me up?”

She nodded, her body slicking more at the thought of having him at her mercy.

“Sure.” He tickled her inner thigh again. “You can try.”

Her eyes narrowed.
Try?
Oh, she was so going to get him. With a little growl she pushed her ankles apart. Her breathing quickened. Still he didn’t take his gaze from hers.

“Farther.” He wrapped his hand around her ankles, pulling her legs wider. “Am I going to have to tie these too?”

She shook her head and he laughed, then shed his clothes in rapid movements.

Bound to the bed, she watched him, hunger growing. Three days without enjoying his body? Without seeing him? Feeling him?

She rocked her hips, arching her back, wanting him to bring his massive cock closer. “I didn’t know you’d be into bondage.” Though she should have—given how the guy knew his way around clit clamps.

“Sometimes, sure.” He studied her. “Did you ever think
you’d
be into it?”

Because it was obvious she was. But was she so turned on because she was tied up, or was it because it was Joe who held her reins?

No-brainer. It was all Joe.

Abbi squealed as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her uppermost inner thigh.

He then moved onto the bed, and on all fours braced above her, looking down at her the way a wolf would its prey. “You really do have the most sensational breasts.” He straddled her, his weight on her hips. Hell, he was big, heavy,
magnificent
. With her arms tied, her breasts were freed and bared for him to explore. And explore he did. He massaged and teased, cupped and then kissed. His attentions deepened, intensified. Until it was like he was devouring her. Like he was feasting on a succulent banquet and had the most voracious appetite.

He sucked on her nipples, teasing them with his teeth until the nubs protruded hard and red from the pleasure-pain of his love bites.

Hot and tormented and thrusting, Abbi arched again and again, desperate for him to move his weight to where she wanted it most. To push hard and deep and over and over. But he didn’t. He just kept massaging her breasts and tormenting her nipples until she was begging. Until she arched one last time, taut as a wire, her arms yanking on the stretched scarf as she climaxed with a harsh, surprised cry.

Stunned, she fell back on the bed, limp. She’d never come just from a guy playing with her breasts before.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

Partly. But she wanted so much more. And she was going to get it.

He reached forward and untied the knots in the scarf so her wrists were released. Then he moved off her to sit beside her on the bed, grabbed a condom from her table, and quickly rolled it on. He opened his mouth to speak but she clamped her hand over it.

“My turn with the scarf.”

He arched his eyebrows at her but said nothing when she removed her hand.

“Sit on the bed.”

Still silent, he did as she ordered.

Good. Heat rippled through her body and she had to quell her tremble of pleasure. It was high time that he let her have the fun with his body that he’d been having with hers.

“Hands.” She quite liked giving the one-word orders.

He offered them, holding his wrists together. She wound the scarf around them and tied them firmly. His eyes flashed a little surprise—what, didn’t he think she could do knots? Sliding off to stand beside the bed, she made him lift his arms above his head, so he mirrored the position she’d just been in, lying flat on his back, and she tethered him to the bedhead.

Then she looked at the length of him for a long, long time.

“That’s it?” he joked. “You’re just going to look?”

“Patience,” she chided. “I’m building the sexual tension.” And in just looking, she’d discovered, there was a lot of tension to be had. Maybe that worked both ways?

Testing, she swept her hands down her body and back up to cup her breasts, offering them to him. Knowing full well he couldn’t reach. “Anticipation, remember?”

His eyes locked on her nipples; they were still tight and rosy from his gloriously attentive mouth.