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After I’m finished with my make-up, I work on my hair. Pulling out the band holding it back, I run my fingers through the thick strands. My hair, which is a dark chestnut, falls halfway down my back in loose curls. I decide to leave it down instead of putting it back up.
Once I’m reasonably sure I look good enough to not tip my parents off that something happened tonight, I stuff everything back in my bag, pull in a lungful of air and open the bathroom door. I’m tempted to check out each room before I go back to the kitchen, but chicken out. Just my luck, Mr. Monroe would catch me snooping, and I’ve already embarrassed myself enough in front of him.
Just as I step out of the hallway into the living room, Mr. Monroe walks out of the kitchen. I come to a stop, and all my breath whooshes out of me.
He stops too, and our eyes meet across the room.
During the ten minutes I spent in the bathroom, Mr. Monroe has taken off his tie and another button has been undone at the top of his shirt. A small sliver of colored skin peeks through the opening, showing he has more tattoos than just the ones I’ve seen on his finger and arms. Unconsciously, a strong need to explore each one has warmth filling my stomach. Despite never having sex, I’m a female and have felt lustful urges before. But what I feel for my teacher is much stronger than I’ve ever felt.
It’s not just a want, it’s a need. A need to know what his hands feel like all over my body. A need to know what he tastes like. A need to feel him on top of me as he slides his cock in and out of my body.
Those feelings scare me, but more so, they excite me and give me the courage to do something I never thought I would do. Hannah’s words from yesterday come back to me.
“You take the bull by the horns, or in this instance, the man by the dick, and drag his ass to the nearest closet. Then you let him teach you all the dirty things.”
While I won’t be taking him by the dick and dragging him to a closet, I do want to be bold like the women in my romance books and do something I would normally only dream about.
My eyes slide closed for a brief moment, and I take in a deep breath and hope I don’t make a complete fool of myself.
I open them and take several steps forward. At the couch, I drop my bag over the back to the cushions. Then I walk slowly toward Mr. Monroe. I’m not under the illusion that my slow movements come across as seductive—I don’t think I could pull off enticing even if I tried—but I hope I at least look good.
When I’m a foot away, I stop and tilt my head back to look up at him. It’s never more apparent than in this moment how much bigger my teacher is than me. His head is tilted down and cocked to the side, and I can see the question in his eyes.
I nervously lick my bottom lip, and his gaze follows the movement. Something flares in their dark-blue depths, and it’s that look that gives me the final bit of courage to open my mouth and make my request.
“Teach me,” I say quietly.
His brows drop and his head jerks back an inch. “Teach you, what?”
My chest rises as my lungs fill with air.
I never in a million years thought I’d be bold and brave like Hannah. She’d be so proud, and I could just imagine the huge grin on her face if she were here right now. But I’m glad she’s not. This is my moment. Mine, and if I have my way, Mr. Monroe’s.
I hold his intense stare and say with as much courage as I’ve ever had, “Teach me something dirty.”
Chapter 6
AUGUST
“Teach me something dirty.”
Those are the words that came out of Luna’s mouth. I heard them loud and clear. She’s right here in front of me, but it’s hard to see past the fog of lust to determine if I heard her correctly.
My cock, which has been half hard since we walked in my house, turns to granite.
Her smell, hearing those words, and having her right in front of me has my mind and body fighting against itself.
When she walked out of the bathroom a moment ago, a shot of lust slammed into me so fucking hard I nearly stumbled from it. It’s always there when she’s near, but fuck me, seeing her with her hair down, the innocent but naughty look in her eyes, having her in my home, makes that feeling ten times stronger.
Before I know what I’m doing, my hands are reaching for Luna’s hips. My grip is probably too tight, but I can’t stop it from happening.
I take in a deep breath, ready to deny her request, but then her scent hits me square in the dick.
Fuck, she smells good. And I bet she’d taste even better.
I push away those thoughts and drop my hands to my sides, already regretting my decision.
“Miss Hendrix—”
