Taming His Tutor(17)

“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.





Chapter Six

“Be nice, but not friendly. There is a difference.”

Joe gave up on trying to get some sleep and hit the pavement to run off the excess energy. He stepped up his pace, letting his lungs work and his muscles start to burn. He felt jaded. His balls heavy and tight, aching for the release they’d been denied.

Maybe he should have gone after her. Or should have taken what she’d offered, when she’d offered it. Had her hard up against that door and damn the possible chance of being sprung by a hundred baseball fans.

Heaven knew she wouldn’t have stopped him. She’d have let him do anything. Hell, if that idea didn’t just yank him harder than he’d ever been. He kicked himself for letting her walk. What had she spent her night doing? Had she gone off to find that other dweeb she’d targeted in her vixen campaign?

He ran faster, his breathing heavier and rough. Damn, the possessive devil riding him was a bitch. He hadn’t liked seeing Abbi smile at that guy. That’s what had sent him over the edge in the first place and made him push her to the point where she wouldn’t say no to him.