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“Hey, flirting is harmless. Talking about sex is harmless. You fuck her? You owe Derek a thousand bucks. And you break the promise you made to yourself.”
It’s official. I’m miserable with my life choices. “I should’ve never agreed to it. Now it’s all I can think about.”
“What is all you can think about?”
“Sex! Getting off.” I practically growl.
Cam laughs, the jerk. “Sounds like you and your hand are going to become best friends over the next couple of months.”
“This is some shit.” I shake my head. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m hot for her because she’s the only female my age I’m having consistent contact with.”
“It’s possible. Though I saw a couple of chicks throw themselves at you Monday night at Logan’s and you pushed them away.”
I remember those girls he’s talking about and grimace. “I’m tired of going to Logan’s.”
I’m also tired of the same women trying to get in my pants. I’m exhausted at the thought of fighting off more nameless, faceless women the rest of the season. Is that what I have to look forward to?
God, it sounds so…empty.
My best friend throws the controller onto the floor. “What the fuck? Are you sick, man? I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“I’m not sick.” I laugh, though the sound lacks humor, so I stop. “I’m just…I’m fucking horny.”
He makes a grossed-out face. “I can’t help you with that problem.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want you to help me with that problem.”
I want Joanna Sutton, my tutor, to help me, but she can’t. She’s like forbidden fruit I’m dying to sample. Or the chocolate cake that I never crave yet now want all the time.
I just want a taste.
Just one.
“Is kissing going against my vows?” I ask Cam, needing an honest answer. “Foreplay? Does that shit count?”
The skeptical look he sends my way is giving mehell yesvibes. “If there’s anything that involves getting naked happening, then yes. You’re, uh, breaking your vows.”
“Uh huh.” My mind wanders. I’ve never been one to just make out—well, not since high school anyway. Kissing leads to everything else, and this is where I can admit something to myself.
I’m a selfish asshole most of the time, who rushes the kissing to get to the good stuff.
“Anything with clothes on, I think you can get away with.”
I Google the definition of celibate on my phone, which isn’t any help. Everyone has different definitions of the word. For some, it’s abstaining from all sexual relations. For others, it’s just abstaining from sexual intercourse and that’s it.
“If you’re thinking about going to the bars downtown and making out with all kinds of women, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Cam says wryly. “Derek will catch you and demand you pay up.”
I remember what Joanna said. Everything that happens in that little room we meet in, stays in that room. Like freaking Las Vegas.
Wonder if she’d be interested in a make-out sesh?
Yeah, doubtful. She’d probably tell me to kiss her ass.
I’m still thinking about Joanna and her perfect ass when I enter the meeting room the next afternoon. I’m ten minutes early, and she’s already there, looking hot as fuck wearing a sweater that clings to her tits, emphasizing her curves. They’re not too big and they’re not too small. They’re just fucking right.
Because of course they are.
Her hair is straight and tucked behind her ears, and when she glances up at me, her gaze warms in greeting. “Hey.”
