Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
Oh, but I want to. I want it almost as badly as I wanted the release he coaxed out of me like the master of pleasure he is.
I really did pick the best teacher in the entire history of the world.
I reach back, running my hand up the length of his hardness through his pants. But before I can do more than touch—before I can even come to terms with just how large he is down there—he bats my hand away.
“Not now,” he says, his voice tight, almost irritated.
I straighten my spine, embarrassed. “But I want . . . You’re supposed to, I mean . . . I mean, I’m supposed to . . .” I stop, my face burning as I ease my skirt over my hips.
Graham, however? He just leans back against the wall, smoothing his shirt calmly as he shrugs. “Don’t worry about ‘supposed to’ right now, okay? I’m the teacher, remember?”
I swallow. “I-I know. And that was wonderful.” Life-altering is more like it. I still can’t feel my feet. “But I want to learn how to drive men wild.”
And how to drive you wild in particular . . .
“Mission accomplished, gorgeous. But this is as far as we go tonight.”
Before I can respond, he leans down, kissing me like I’m the heroine of a classic movie. He kisses me like they used to kiss when films were black and white and passion had to fill in for all the other colors. He kisses me like I’ve always dreamed of being kissed—like I’m the one, the girl, the long-lost lover-friend my man has been looking for—before whispering, “Until next time, Butterfly,” and slipping out the door.
“Graham?” I squeak, but he doesn’t come back. He’s gone.
Lesson one is over.
Still shell-shocked, I blink faster, looking around our small, private lounge, my hand flying to cover my mouth when I spot the enormous floor-to-ceiling window on the far wall. The one with a view high above the streets of Manhattan and the lights blazing in the windows of the building on the other side of the street. Which means—
Someone could have seen.
Well, duh, that’s the point of a public quickie.
I drag in a deep breath, wondering what the heck I’ve gotten myself into. Lesson one was insanely good, yes. Better than I’d even hoped. Almost too good.
So good it felt . . . dangerous somehow.
No matter how much I trust Graham, I don’t know if I trust myself.
Do I have what it takes to fly that high, that close, without sustaining life-shattering injuries in the process? Sure, I know Graham would never hurt my body, but what about my heart? That squishy, love-hungry organ that has always been way too sweet on Graham for its own good?
As long as I keep my head up, I’ve got this. There’s no reason my heart needs to overextend itself. This is a seven-days-to-seduction deal, and like any good business arrangement, you simply see it through, brush your hands, and move on when you’re done.
“Woman up,” I say to myself. “You’re a big girl. You can do this. You have to do this, and you will be just fine.”
Smart or not, I must see this through. After what I just experienced, I’m more certain than ever that I have Grand-Canyon-size gaps in my erotic knowledge, gaps that only Graham can help me fill. Too bad I have plans tomorrow night, but I’m confident he’ll give me extra credit work the next time I see him.
After taking a few more deep breaths and smoothing the worst of the wrinkles from my skirt, I find my panties on the floor. Stuffing them in my purse, I totter out the door and make my way unsteadily through the bar. It’s grown more crowded—a good thing, since no one seems to notice the disheveled, sex-rumpled girl making her way to the elevators. In the lobby, I charge past the line of people waiting for a taxi.
Time to walk this off, girlfriend.
My head is still swimming. My feet are giant gummy bears that wobble unsteadily beneath me as I plod the ten blocks to my apartment building. Sounds are louder. Lights are brighter. The world has shifted. I’ve walked home at night a million times, but suddenly, everything is different, sparkling, dusted in magic.
I’m floating up the two stories to my apartment’s front door when my phone hums in my purse.
Graham: Home safe?
I smile, heat rushing to my face again as I remember his hands on me, erasing the memory of all hands that had been there before.
Before I can reply that yes, I’m home, another text hums through.
Graham: Sending you something to help you get to sleep, though I hope you realize only crazy people read horror novels before bed. Assuming you haven’t bought this one yet, since it just released yesterday.