Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
His hold on me tightens, and for a split second, I’m sure he’s going to lean in and kiss me.
But he doesn’t. He steps back, fixes his collar, and gives me a very professional nod. Almost like it’s a show for anyone who might be watching or listening. “See you in class, Miss Monroe.”
Before I can respond, he turns and walks away. I watch him cross the quad. His broad shoulders, confident stride, the way people move out of his way automatically. A group of girls stare and giggle to each other as he passes, and I feel a pang of jealousy ignite inside me.
No. He wants me.
Heart pounding, I open my notebook.
I told myself what happened yesterday wouldn’t happen again. But I was lying to myself. I’ll see him again tomorrow.
I start to close the notebook, but a thought hits me.
Bring questions.
Yeah, I have so many questions for him.
6
JESSIE
I’ve prepared for my second tutoring session the way I prepare for everything. Methodically, academically. I have questions in my notebook with color-coded annotations.
It lies open on my lap, the header reading Lesson Two: Male Reproductive Anatomy. I’ve underlined it twice in green. Below that reads Practical Applications?
I added that this morning while I was lying in bed thinking about him again.
Right now, I’m sitting in the same leather chair I was in when he knelt before me, spread my legs, and—
Oh God, I can’t think about that right now. I’m already getting hot. I have to focus. Be a good student for Professor Holt.
He’s leaning against his desk with his muscled arms crossed and his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, showing the bulging veins and raw strength. We’re pretending this is purely academic, but we both know why I’m here.
And it has absolutely nothing to do with my GPA.
Oh, and have I mentioned his forearms? Because I need to. With his sleeves rolled up like that, I can see the tendons shift under his skin whenever he moves his hands. I’ve seen the anatomical diagrams of the forearm extensors and flexors before, but none of them prepared me for what they would be like on this man.
“So,” he says, nodding at my notebook. “You have questions.”
“Yes, I have questions.”
“About the course material?”
“Yes, of course.” I nod. “About…anatomy.”
The corner of his mouth moves. The ghost of a smile sweeps through me like a warm wind. “Okay. Go ahead.”
I look down at the first question. I wrote it at two in the morning while I was lying in bed, sweating as I recounted our first session. Thinking about his hand on my arm when he told Belcher to get lost.
I wrote the question down, then, on the lowest setting, slid my vibrator between my legs. It couldn’t have been less than a minute before I climaxed, but it was nothing compared to the three orgasms he gave me.
Nothing.
I switched it off and denied myself any more. If I experience that kind of pleasure again, I want it to be from him. It can only be from him.
“First question,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Male erectile tissue. The textbook describes the mechanism of male arousal as a vascular event. A complex neurovascular process involving arterial dilation and venous occlusion.”
“That’s right.” He nods, impressed.
“But it doesn’t say what it…feels like. Subjectively.”
His arms uncross, and he sits straighter. My heartrate increases. I wonder if he can tell.
“That’s your question, Miss Monroe?”
I swallow. “Yes, that is my question.”
He studies me a moment with those intense green eyes. The moment stretches on for what feels like forever. It’s like he’s making a decision. Then something moves behind his eyes. It’s mysterious, but it feels like approval.
“It feels like pressure,” he says, his voice calm and controlled. “Uncompromising, building as your whole body narrows its intention on one thing. Everything else becomes secondary.”
I’m starting to feel light-headed and simply nod as he stretches his right arm over his head. God, look at those biceps.
“The mind slows,” he continues. “And while you’re standing in your office with a female student who is asking you what an erection feels like…it becomes difficult to think about anything else.”
My pen hasn’t moved. I’m not even taking notes. Looks like I’m having a hard time thinking too.
“Q-question two,” I manage to say.
“Already?”
“I have seven…”
That ghost of a smile appears again. I tremble. “Please, continue.”
“The textbook also says the male refractory period is much longer than the female’s. But it also says that sustained psychological stimulation can maintain—” I glance at my notes to make sure I get this right. It’s also hard to look at his ruggedly handsome face right now. “Can maintain readiness beyond the initial vascular event. What would count as sustained psychological stimulation?”
Professor Holt is quiet for long enough that I am forced to look up.
His eyes are narrow, penetrating, filled with heat and depth. For the first time, he looks like a man who has been asked a question he can’t answer. At least not without confessing something.