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Me: Good girl. You can’t live off iced coffees.

Alex: Watch me.

Me: I’ll watch you do anything.

Alex: You’re certainly easy to please.

Me: Are you at home?

Alex: No. I’m at the school helping Nora grade papers.

Me: Still?

She’d been there when we did our session an hour ago, conducting it from an empty classroom.

Alex: It was an extensive project. More intense on the grading scales.

Me: Did Nora eat the same thing as you?

Alex: Yes. Why?

I clicked a few things on my phone before responding.

Me: I sent food your way. Will be there in a half hour. You need to eat.

Alex: You’re so demanding.

Me: You need to fuel that perfect body of yours.

Alex: Jesus. Now I’m blushing.

Me: Just imagine what I would’ve said if you weren’t in a school right now.

Day Six:

Alex: What would you have said?

I tilted my head at the late-night text. I’d been swamped all day, finalizing the deal, and was now thankfully packing up my stuff. I had one final networking lunch to handle tomorrow, then I’d be on the first flight back to her.

Me: When?

Alex: Yesterday. When I was at the school. What would you have said if I’d been at home?

I shut my suitcase and tucked it near the hotel door before heading back through the suite and stretching out on my bed.

Me: Are you at home now?

I never knew with her. She was constantly on the go unless she was working with me.

Alex: Yes.

The blood in my veins heated in a flash.

Me: I would’ve said you need to fuel that perfect body of yours because when I get back to you, you’re going to need all the energy you can.

Alex: Is that so?

Me: It’s a guarantee.

Alex: Why am I going to need energy, Ethan?

Oh, fuck yes. My girl wanted to play. I shifted back on the bed, my dick already growing hard from just the thought.

Me: Because I’m going to finish what I started in the back of that limo.

Alex: I can’t stop thinking about that night.

Me: I can’t stop thinking about what all I’m going to do to you when I get home tomorrow.

Alex: Like what?

Me: Like how I’m going to use my tongue instead of my fingers this time.

Alex: Now I’m definitely blushing.

Me: Are you in bed?

Alex: Yes. It’s a hot night too.

She sent a picture of her in her bed wearing this silky blue pajama short and tank top set, and I went from half-hard to full on aching.

Me: Fucking hell, baby. You’re so damn gorgeous.

Alex: Wish you were here.

Me: Pretend I am.

Alex: I already am.

Holy shit. This woman had fire streaking through my veins, the visual she painted with those three little words filling my head so much I could barely think around it. I wanted to ask her to FaceTime me, to let me watch, but I knew that would cross a line—we FaceTimed as client and coach, not two consenting adults who had it bad for each other and had agreed to thirty-days of no-strings fun.

Me: You little vixen.

Alex: Want me to stop? Want me to wait for you?

What I wanted was to be there in that bed with her right fucking now. Wanted to feel how slick she was, wanted to watch her make herself come, learning every inch of her pleasure so I could replicate it and take her even further.

Me: Fuck no, baby. I want you to pretend that your hand is mine and tease yourself until your hips buck out of need before you let yourself come.

Alex: Oh, God.

Damn. I wanted her so badly I joined in, fisting my cock and stroking it, all the while pretending it was her.

Alex: One more day?

Me: One more day.

It was after ten o’clock in the evening by the time I made it to Alex’s apartment. The luncheon in New York City had run long, delaying my arrival much longer than I’d wanted, and even though I’d texted Alex time updates, I was half-afraid she’d be asleep.

She assured me she wouldn’t be, but I wouldn’t blame her if she’d given up.

I bounded up the three flights of stairs in a hurry. I hadn’t even bothered to stop by my house and change out of my suit. I’d come straight here.

Straight to her.

Anxious nerves twisted inside me as I knocked on her door. We’d been texting easily the entire week—diving deeper into who we were at our core more than ever before. I felt like I knew her and she knew me on a level that no one else ever had. And we’d teased and flirted so much that I went to bed wishing my hand was hers and woke up just as desperate for her.

So why was I nervous now?

I wasn’t exactly inexperienced when it came to sex. I loved sex and in the past had it as often as possible, but my partners were always consensual, casual hook-ups.

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