Taming His Tutor(37)

And she had all this stuff already? “Where were you before that?”

“Sunnyvale. Before that, Stanford.” Her shoulders lifted and she glanced away.

His gaze landed on the photo in the center of the top shelf. “Your parents must be proud of you.” It was a university graduation shot. They stood either side of her. All three were beaming at the camera. Straight-up happy.

“I guess,” she answered vaguely, turning to face him. Her eyes had that aroused sheen. Liquid desire. “Can I get you a drink?” Her voice shook slightly.

She didn’t want to talk? He could live with that for now. “Abbi.”

Her chin lifted. He liked that. For all her concerns about performance, she was courageous.

“Come here.” His voice had packed it in too, a bare rasp.

She crossed the room to where he waited. Joe was used to women doing as he asked; frankly, they pretty much had from the moment he’d become sexually active. But for some reason, Abbi’s compliance satisfied him in a different way. Because giving in to her sensuality like this wasn’t usual for her. He knew she was both willing yet overthinking it at the same time. Unable to stop herself from analyzing and worrying, but unable to stop herself from responding. And those sparks in her eyes—that combo of defiance and self-consciousness and courage pushed him into being bossier than he’d ever been. He wanted to thrust past her boundaries, to take her beyond pleasure all the way to mindless ecstasy. To make her worry less and feel more, the way he had yesterday.

Because knowing that he’d done that? That he’d been the only guy to see her like that? To feel her?

That surge of satisfaction bubbled like molten lava. He wanted to do it again. Now.

“Are you nervous? After yesterday?” he asked her, shaking his head at her insecurity.

“Um…” She took an age to study his exceptionally plain T-shirt.

“You ready for another lesson or are you having second thoughts?” he prompted.

Her eyes flashed to his. Yeah. That got her attention.

“I’m ready.”

He’d gotten hard the second he’d heard the huskiness that entered her voice when things veered to the intimate. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, curious to see if she’d answer honestly. “You can tell me anything, remember.”

He waited. But he knew he’d get an answer soon; she wasn’t quite as silent anymore.

Her gaze didn’t waver, but the blue darkened. “What I want to do. What I want you to do.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, lust roaring. “There’s the thing. The more you have, the more you want, the better it gets.” He meant sex in general, right? Except his body was in a riot, wanting only her.

“You think you can do better than last night?”

Now that unintentional compliment pleased him. “Reckon I can,” he mused. “But first.” He reached around her and tapped his fingers lightly down her spine. “There’s nothing like foreplay. Lots and lots of foreplay.”

“What’s your favorite kind of foreplay?” she asked, rising up onto tiptoe.

“Turns out I quite like messing around on first base,” he answered quietly.

She reached her hand up, curling it around his neck and tugging so he bent. She kissed him, let her tongue swirl around his mouth before withdrawing with a suck on his lower lip and then a scrape of teeth.

He was momentarily surprised by her forward action—but he wasn’t complaining. “Vixen,” he murmured. “I think you’ve been putting in some study time.”

“You like it?” she asked breathlessly.

“A lot. Do it again.”

She did, lingering before she asked with a very pleased smile, “What else can I do for you?”

He got it. She wanted to please him. Was she still not happy with the balance of orgasms? She wanted him to have more? He put on a thoughtful look, happy to humor her. For now. “What are you thinking?”

And she was thinking again, clearly. Thinking way too much.

“Massage?” she offered and immediately cringed. “Such a cliché, huh?”

It bothered him that she thought he was going to shoot her down. “It’s a cliché for a reason. It feels good.” His body was aching for any kind of touch from her. Anything she wanted.

“Okay.” A warmth lit her eyes. “You going to lie down?”

“You going to strip?” he countered. “Massage should always be done naked.”

“Oh really? You think the masseuse should be naked?”

“Uh-huh.” He winked, enjoying her tease, glad she was learning that sex should always be this kind of fun. “That way if one of your nipples comes within touching distance while you’re leaning over me, I can suck on it. Or some other body part.”