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in bed. Or so the rumors went. But until last night, she hadn’t really understood what that meant.
She hadn’t known anything could feel like that.
As she rubbed her clit harder, her chest warmed. He’d always been the hottest guy she’d ever seen, a fact that had been amplified a thousand-fold by the hungry way he’d recently begun to look at her. She thought of his eyes roaming the length of her body, the way his breath had hitched in appreciation when he touched her breasts. She breathed harder, faster, imagining him between her legs, licking and sucking and hungry for her, and she let out a low moan.
She was so close to the edge that it took her a moment to realize the water in the bathroom had stopped running.
When she did, she looked over to see Jack standing in the dissolving steam from the bathroom, wearing only a towel.
Watching her.
“Oh my God,” she mumbled, ripping her hand from her pajama pants, her face flushing hot enough to catch fire. It didn’t help that his towel was slung low on his hips, not nearly covered up enough to help her cool down. That trail of hair below his navel, like a neon sign pointing the way to his cock, made her crazy. She couldn’t look away, no matter how embarrassed she was right now.
Fresh wetness pooled between her legs, confirming she was becoming a hopeless sex maniac.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he said.
Her cheeks flamed even hotter as she snapped her legs together and started to tie her pajama bottoms. “Oh, no. I was just—” She cleared her throat and fought a hysterical laugh. “I wasn’t, um.” The laugh escaped. “I mean, I wouldn’t—”
“I mean it, Eva.” His hair was wet, and there were drops of water mingling with the fine brown hair on his broad chest as he prowled toward the bed and reached out, softly but firmly pulling the covers down toward the foot of the bed. “Don’t stop. Put your hand back between your legs.”
She sucked in a breath. Oh, God. From the time she could fantasize, every one of her fantasies had involved him.
She couldn’t. Not with him right here. Staring at her. “B-but I—”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed.” He sat on the edge of the bed, very gently encircling her wrist with his fingers and removing her hand from her abdomen. His other hand tugged the string of her pajama bottoms until the tie loosened. “Consider this your next lesson.”
She gulped. “What? Oh, no. I couldn’t. I mean.” Her blush had now spread to encompass her entire blazing, shame-heated body. “Wouldn’t y-you rather do it?”
“It’s clear to me,” he said, taking her hand, “that this is where we need to focus. Before you can please a man, you need to be confident pleasing yourself.”
“Oh,” she said, wondering if that was true, even as another part of her screamed that she didn’t care if it were true, she still couldn’t do that in front of someone else. Anyone else, but especially not Jack. “But you’ll be late for work. You should go. Now. Maybe a few minutes ago even. Traffic is…trafficky in the mornings.”
Jack’s lips curved in a lazy, sexy-as-hell smile. “Your education is a priority to me, Eva. And as the boss, I can make my own hours to a certain extent.” He nudged her bottom off the bed and helped her pull the pajamas down over her hips. His fingers fluttered over her silken panties and paused.
He pressed his lips together, disapproving. “I thought I told you not to wear these.”
“I forgot,” she lied. The truth was, when she’d packed last night, she’d thought specifically of that. It was almost embarrassing, the weight she placed on everything he said. She hadn’t wanted him to know how she hung on his every word, or that a wicked part of her was ignited by the thought of wearing no panties, just for him, so like a good girl, she’d packed a few changes of underwear.
He made a tsk tsk noise with his tongue. “Disappointing.” Then he cast her pajama bottoms aside, kissed her knee, and said, “Do what you were doing before. Let me watch.”
“Jack, I can’t. I—”
“You can. And you will,” he said, holding her gaze, the heat in his eyes making her think he wanted this for reasons other than her sexual education. “Show me how you touch yourself. Show me how you make yourself come.”
She bit her bottom lip, summoning her courage—this was what she’d signed on for, after all—as she hesitantly slid her hand down over her abdomen, between her legs to the silky fabric of her panties. She touched herself, feeling anxious, panicked, and completely unsexy.
Jack watched her every move intently. “Not like that, Eva. Like you mean it, like you need it.”
Her breath rushed out. “I’ve never done this with an audience,” she whispered.
He leaned over and placed his palm over her eyes, so that her lids fluttered closed. “Close your eyes, then. Pretend you’re alone.”
She tried to focus on something other than Jack sitting there, to return to the fantasy that had nearly brought her over the first time, but her hand felt strange down there now. Cold. Stiff. And she could still sense him beside her. She inhaled the sweet spice of his aftershave, felt the steam radiating off of his body.
As hot as it was to think of him so close, wrapped only in a towel, it was also maddening. Only his hands on her would do.
Why couldn’t he see that? Why was he intent on making her suffer?
