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His head hit the pillow, and he stretched his arms back, lacing his fingers together behind his head. I was envious of his relaxed posture, but at the same time, we were in his bed, and this was not a new experience for him. Why wouldn’t he feel comfortable?
“Can I ask you a question?” I’d hoped to sound casual, but it came out sounding small and needy.
He turned to look at me. Of course, his expression read.
I almost didn’t want to know the answer, and yet I was desperate for it. “How was I?”
The carefree light in his eyes dimmed and seriousness moved in. The comforter rustled as he turned on his side and scooted close enough to put a heavy arm around me. “You couldn’t tell? That was . . .”
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow as he searched for the right word. It looked like he found it, and his lips parted, but he abruptly thought better of it. His chin pulled back, and his guard went up. Whatever he was going to say—it made him nervous.
“You get an A-plus, good girl.”
Except he wasn’t thrilled with his answer, judging by the way his lips skewed to one side. Like my serious question deserved a serious answer.
He sobered and tried again. “You were really great.”
I must have made a face, because his arm tightened, tugging me against him.
“I don’t know why you don’t believe me. You’re good at everything you do. Why wouldn’t you be amazing at sex your first time?”
My heart skipped. “You thought I was amazing?”
He grasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding me into his kiss. “Shh. No more talking until the lesson’s over.”
His mouth met mine, and it stoked the fire burning between us, only this fire wasn’t sexual. Our kiss had no business being that full of passion, but neither of us did a damn thing to stop it. I sank into the mattress beneath the power of it, clutching at him and holding on for dear life.
He’d warned me these lessons were supposed to be about sex and nothing else, but what if it was already too late for that? My feelings for him were too strong, and every minute we spent together only magnified their intensity.
It was impossible to think clearly when his mouth was attached to mine, but worry was a knife, slicing through the fog and working its way in.
What was going to happen when we ran out of lessons?
SIXTEEN
Preston
I carried the two plastic grocery bags in and set them on the island in the kitchen, and Sydney followed me with the box of cooking stuff she’d packed from her house. When I’d asked her earlier this week if she’d be willing to make me dinner again, she’d agreed immediately, and presented me with a few different menu options.
I’d landed on shrimp risotto.
“You can leave it out,” she said as I attempted to put things away in the fridge. “I need to devein the shrimp.”
When I’d picked her up this evening, our first stop had been a grocery store. When I’d told her I was buying—since it was the least I could do—she asked me what my budget was. Shopping with her had been surprisingly fun. I liked that she was so picky when she was selecting produce, and how whenever she scrutinized a product, her eyebrows would pull together like she was doing deep work.
She looked so cute like that.
Unlike last time, this recipe did call for wine, and since I wasn’t much of a wine guy, I grabbed the one she told me to and added it to our cart. It was ironic that she wasn’t old enough to drink and yet she was the one giving me advice.
That thought reminded me. I needed to text Patrick soon and see if he’d made any progress on that favor I’d asked him for.
As I set the package of raw shrimp on the counter, Sydney popped the lid on her plastic container and pulled out a roll of fabric. I was disappointed for a moment, until she began to carefully unroll it. It was the same apron she’d worn the last time she’d cooked for me, and she’d used it to cushion the set of knives she’d packed.
“I’ve got something for you.” I grinned. “And before you ask, no, it’s not my penis.”
She glanced up at me with surprise. “What?”
I went to the pantry and retrieved the box I’d wrapped in the same black wrapping paper I’d used to wrap the vibrator. I had a ton of it left over that a client didn’t want after the retirement party Distinguished Events had coordinated a few months ago.
