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“Will do,” I agree.
Evan dips his chin. “Think I’m gonna cut out early today. My schedule’s clear, and Reagan’s working from home. Think I’ll see if she has time for a quick interruption.” He clears his throat pointedly.
I’m definitely not the only one affected by Samantha’s class today. “Quick? Did you learn nothing?” I tease quietly. “Slow, explore, enjoy,” I echo from Samantha’s lesson.
“Shit. I’ll be lucky if I make it to Reagan and don’t shoot a load from the vibration of my car on the way there.”
I laugh, knowing that his car’s virtually vibration-free, with a smooth as silk ride.
Samantha wraps up, and the guys all applaud for her. I approach the podium once more, hoping that I’m not walking too awkwardly because of my hard-on. “Thank you, Miss Redding. I think that was rather eye-opening for many of us.” To the guys, I say, “I hope you learned a lot and appreciate the knowledge you’ve been gifted. Use it to improve your uhm...” I hesitate, unsure how to professionally and appropriately describe what Samantha’s shared information can do. But taking a lesson from her, I go for blunt. “Your sex life and your current or future partner’s sex life.”
“Thanks, guys,” Samantha adds. “It was great meeting you. I’ll hang out for a few minutes if I didn’t get to your question or you have something you’d rather ask privately.”
It’s a kind offer, but selfishly, I wish she hadn’t made it because that means it’ll be even longer before I can relieve this pressure in my dick. Not that I can do that here, and unlike Evan, I have sessions this afternoon and can’t sneak away for some afternoon delight.
The room starts to clear out, but Samantha stays at the front, though she does sit down in one of the chairs. I start to sit beside her, but she waves me off. “I’ve got this, and some of them might not want to ask personal questions in front of you. You’re scary.”
She winks, letting me know that she’s kidding and doesn’t mean I’m some terrifying monster, but rather that these guys might be nervous to ask embarrassing things in front of their mentor depending on the intimacy of their question.
“As long as they’re appropriate. You give the signal and I’ll be at your side,” I remind her.
“Okay, here’s the signal,” she informs me, but then she makes a loud bird noise that gets everyone’s attention. “Ca-caw, ca-caw!” At my shocked face, she laughs.
I can’t help but laugh too, adding, “Maybe just give me the ‘help me’ eyes?”
She demonstrates with a glance that’s somewhere between puppy dog eyes and a ‘what the fuck’ stare. “Like that?”
“Yeah, that’ll do,” I tell her, grinning as I step away to chat with some of the guys who’re hanging around. But I keep my eye on Samantha as various guys sit down to talk with her.
Some are quick, like Anthony, who I pray is apologizing for his previous behavior. Others are with her for a while, like Stephen. I’m glad to see him opening up to someone, and given his usual nerves around women, I’m extra thrilled to see him talking comfortably with Samantha.
But finally, it’s just the two of us.
“How’d I do?” she asks, but her smile says loud and clear that she knows she rocked it.
“I had high expectations, and you smashed through every one of them in the first five minutes.” It’s high praise and not something I hand out lightly.
“Knew it!” she cheers, her fists in the air with invisible pompoms and her smile growing even wider. But then she pats my tie with her palm. “You were worried for nothing.”
I catch her hand, holding it to my chest and cursing the layers of fabric between our skin, wishing I could feel her touch. “I wasn’t worried for you. I knew you’d be able to deal with anything, but I was worried the guys couldn’t handle you. I’m glad I was wrong and they did me proud, eventually.”
Her smile melts into something more intimate, and the space between us charges.
“You care about them so much. They know that, even the ones who fight you. They have good reasons not to trust you’re for real or that you actually give a shit and aren’t going to bail on them. But you keep showing up for them, and eventually, you’ll earn their trust and change their lives.”
She gets it. So many people don’t, but she does.
“Go out with me,” I say. It’s not a question, but not an order either. A prayer? A wish?
And doesn’t only break my self-prescribed rules, it breaks a promise I made to Evan—that I’d stay away from her if she’s working here. I don’t like doing that. It goes against everything I’m about, but at the same time, I can’t stay away from her.
Samantha’s brows furrow together. “Like a date? Or back to your place?”
“A date, though I’ll admit I’m rock-hard and wanting to bury myself inside you after hearing you talk like that for the last hour.” She lets me guide her hand to my cock, and though I mean to keep one eye on the open door to check for anyone walking by, my eyes flutter closed at her barest touch.
She squeezes me, giving me one good stroke through my slacks, and thankfully, no one interrupts us.
“I don’t know if a date is what you really want, Chance. In public, sitting and chatting, getting to know each other better like this thing between us is going somewhere.” She’s purring, making that sound like the sexiest thing ever. Huskier and sharper, she says, “No, I’m pretty sure you want a quick, dirty fuck to make this ache in your balls go away.”
