Page 72 of Fundamentals of Chemistry

I moaned softly in pleasure as his strong fingertips massaged my scalp. In kind, I grabbed the bar of soap and began lathering his body, starting at the top of his chest and then working my way down his washboard stomach to his thick erection.

Grasping the base of his shaft in my soapy hand, I pumped slowly down the length. Now he was the one moaning. His hands stilled in my hair, and he dropped his head back, eyes falling closed as I worked him.

“Princess, if you keep that up, this is going to be over before we even start.”

My hand stilled, still grasping him, but no longer stroking. This was pretty much all I had planned. The little shower was standing room only, with no Jacuzzi or bench to spread out on.

“Do you have a better idea?” I asked.

“Yes.”

He took the soap from my hands and leaned into the spray to place it back on the tray. Water ran down his abs, rinsing away the soap bubbles.

His hands skated down the length of my body, tracing the curves of my breasts, waist, and hips before dipping between my thighs. Two fingers easily slipped inside of me, pumping slow and deep, before slipping out to tease my clit in languid, maddening circles.

“Okay, yeah,” I said. “Your way is better.”

I held tightly to his shoulders as my legs became weak. It would be incredibly embarrassing to explain my injuries in the ER if I fell and actually got a concussion. But I had a sneaky suspicion that Jack would never drop me.

When I was right on the edge of bliss, he removed his fingers and pressed me back against the wall of the shower, claiming my mouth in a slow, deep kiss. I hardly noticed the chill from the tiles at my back with his heat pressing against my front. His hand traced down my thigh and lifted one of my legs to wrap around his hip so that his cock was firmly pressed against my center.

He swallowed my whimper of pleasure with a hungry kiss as he ground his shaft against my clit, creating the most delicious jolt of pleasure. A gasp escaped me and my eyes shot open when he entered me in a smooth thrust. My body was ready for him.

Jack tilted my hips as he rocked into me again and again, his pelvis grinding against my clit with every stroke. Aroused as I was, it didn’t take long until I was coming for him, crying out his name like I knew he liked. He found his release soon after, pressing me into the wall with his final thrusts.

The post-sex shower might have been awkward, but we managed to find a system as we finished. Jack took care to lather my entire body, touching every inch of sensitized skin from head to toe. I returned the favor, savoring the opportunity to explore him in the light.

When we finished and he had me wrapped in a fluffy towel, he snuck across the hall to get some clean clothes, while I slid a frozen pizza into the oven and tossed a bagged salad in a bowl. We ate in front of the TV watching a Friends rerun, but I couldn’t concentrate on the show.

He was still here, sitting next to me, arm propped on a pillow that read “Baddie” in pink sequins. After all the times he had run away, he finally stayed. I was glad. I still hadn’t gotten enough of him. I wanted as much as he would give.

“Did you always want to be a teacher?” I asked.

He set down his fork in his salad bowl and looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah, pretty much. I tutored a few people in high school—in fact, I tutored your boyfriend for a while—and I really enjoyed it. I’ve always liked helping people and seeing them succeed.”

“I remember that now that you mention it,” I said. “You helped Travis stay off academic probation for football.”

Jack smiled and looked down in his bowl. “It’s funny that you can remember me now.”

“I remembered you before,” I said quickly, jerking up straight.

“No, you didn’t.” His gaze held me frozen like a tractor beam.

I turned so I was facing him more directly. “Before doesn’t matter. I remember now. You were brilliant. At the top of every class. But you never really said much.”

“Not to you, no.”

My brow furrowed. “Did you have a problem with me?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Quite the opposite.”

I paused to consider that—the opposite of a problem. Had Jack liked me? Like—like me liked me? But that didn’t make sense. If he liked me, why did he never talk to me? And if he liked me, then why would he have been so upset to see me at the beginning of semester? He must mean something else, and I was determined to figure out what.

Then he spoke again, breaking my train of thought.

“Did you always want to be a teacher?”

“No, this is kind of recent,” I answered slowly. “I didn’t know what I wanted for a long time. I sort of floundered after leaving Newbury.”