By the Book Read online

  “So what do you like, Shari? Do you like a firm, back and forth stroke of a man’s tongue over your clit or a lighter, licking motion?”

  “I, um…” Damn it, she’d planned to torture him, how dare he turn the tables and torture her? His words conjured images in her head of his mouth doing those things to her until she was burning.

  Still, she had to remember he wasn’t doing this to torture her. He really didn’t know. She had to be patient. She cleared her throat and tried to think of this as a learning moment. “I like both. I, uh, like a lighter touch to start with, and then when I’m more…excited, a stronger stroke works for me.” Oh, God, this was embarrassing. Why hadn’t she kept her big mouth shut? She knew she was blushing, which just exacerbated her discomfort.

  He nodded, and she had the feeling that if his hands weren’t currently occupied with driving he’d be taking notes! “What about your G-spot?” he asked in an earnest-student tone. “Do you like to have it massaged while a man licks you?”

  Oh, oh, oh. It felt as if he were massaging it now. His words, and the images they evoked, made her so ultrasensitive that even the slight vibration of the car engine through her seat was driving her close to the edge. It was a good thing Luke was too clueless to have any idea what he was doing to her, or she’d have to hurt him.

  “I—I like it fine. It can sometimes take a little time to find the G-spot, but I’ll let you know when you get warm.” She fanned her face with her hand. “Speaking of warm, do you mind if I open the window?”

  “Sure,” he said, and his voice quivered. If it were any other man she’d suspect he was trying not to laugh, but with Luke it might just be nerves.

  She pushed the button to lower the window and let the spring air wash over her heated face.

  “There’s a diagram in the book that shows a man taking the entire clitoris inside his mouth. I wasn’t sure whether he’d suck it like a peppermint, say, or lick it like the tip of an ice-cream cone. What do you think you’d prefer?”

  “Please, we have to change the subject now,” she gasped, feeling at any moment she was going to give the passengers in the Greyhound chugging along beside them a view of her in the throes of orgasm.

  “Okay, sure.” He shot her a quick glance before turning his attention back to the road. It was only for a fleeting second, but she could have sworn he was holding back a grin.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Did you, by any chance, do that on purpose?”

  “Do what?”

  Shari was as cute when she was suspicious as she was when she was explaining her response to oral sex as though it were an algebra equation she was trying to help him understand.

  She was so aroused from their little verbal lesson he could feel the heat coming off her body. Luke was sorely tempted to take a hand off the steering wheel, shove it up her skirt and put her out of her misery. But then, he was suffering as badly.

  If he hadn’t been following his book so carefully, he’d have gone down on her last night. He’d ached to do it. Having touched her there, and thrust inside her, he’d longed to take her with his mouth, to taste her pleasure.

  He found, however, that having made himself wait to taste her, he’d only become more eager for the opportunity. And, thanks to the way he’d been reminding her all day of exactly what they were going to do, his agenda was as clear as the view of her glorious body when he got her naked and spread out on his bed.

  He shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to floor it. Every particle of his being burned with need. He couldn’t play games anymore. “I need you. Now. If I don’t get my tongue on you I’m going to lose it.”

  Her answer was a strangled moan.

  They were both panting when he pulled into his parking stall on a squeal of brakes. They had their respective doors open faster than a pair of cops at a crime scene.

  He grabbed her hand and ran. Not the elevator, too slow. He yanked open the heavy metal door to the stairs and they sprinted up to the second floor, ran down the hall, his keys jangling in his hand. It took him two tries to jab the key into the lock and then, finally, they were inside his apartment.

  14

  IT WAS A GOOD THING she already thought he was a clumsy oaf, for he was beyond finesse, beyond conscious thought, driven only by need.

  For the second time in their short relationship, he hoisted her into his arms and for the second time she shivered in reaction. He strode to his bedroom, kicked the door open and deposited her on her back on the bed.

  He kneeled over her, enjoying her rapid breathing, dazed eyes and swollen lips. “Time for chapter seven.”

  She moaned and he had a feeling chapter seven would forever be part of their vocabulary. A personal lovers’ code. The word forever flashed and danced across his brain before he banished it and prepared to enjoy one very hot woman.

  She was fully dressed, but his urgency was too great to mess around with undressing her. For now, he only needed one part of her naked. He hiked up her skirt in one jerk, flipping it right up over her hips.

  Her eyes darkened and she raised her hands over her head as though to reach for something to anchor her. Not going to work.

  He nudged her legs apart and dropped his gaze, only to find himself groaning. “Oh, Shari. What have you done?”

  “Surprise.” The word seemed a struggle for her. Her hips were starting to twitch with the wanting, but he had to pause for a moment and enjoy the sight of old-fashioned stockings that stopped at midthigh. Her lacy garter belt and panties were bright, in-your-face purple. He touched the creamy skin of her upper thighs and her breath hitched. No. He couldn’t go slowly. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. Maybe later. For now he had to see her, touch her, taste her.

  His hands shook as he slipped off the panties. If she noticed she’d put it down to nerves, when, in fact, it was desire, stronger than any he’d ever experienced, that rocked him.

  He trailed her silk panties down her legs and, to please himself, let them hang from one of her strappy high heels. He liked the picture she made, he definitely liked it. Her eyes were closed and she was in someplace all her own.

  He smiled as he moved to kneel between her thighs. Knowing he’d teased them both enough, he parted her, found her moist and pink, her obvious arousal sending the need to have her straight to his groin. He was never selfish with women, but this one had him almost mindless with the most basic urge to take and mate.

  But the urge to pleasure her was just as strong.

  Remembering what she’d told him, even though he’d only asked to tease, he followed her instructions, beginning with a light delicate touch that had her opening for him like a bud to sunshine, exposing her glossy pink clit. He gave it a light flicking with his tongue and felt it quiver and harden.

  Even the most ignorant novice could tell this lady was close to exploding. Deciding he’d have lots of time to toy with her later, he changed to firmer sweeping tongue strokes and pretty much had to hold her hips in both hands to keep her earthbound. She progressed rapidly from panting to moaning. Everything beneath his tongue was getting slicker and plumper, and then, since he was holding her hips in place, her upper body rose as he felt the shudders of climax rock her.

  Once, she rose to half sitting and fell back. Twice, and then she sighed delightfully.

  He took a couple of minutes to kiss her thighs and stroke any part of her he could reach, while she slowly floated back to earth. He didn’t let her get her feet on the ground, though, before going back for dessert.

  She chuckled and touched her hand to his head as he resumed the soft licking he’d started her with. “No. I couldn’t. Not so soon.”

  In answer, he slipped a finger inside her where the last contractions from her orgasm clasped him like tiny hugs. He pushed a second finger inside, and she sighed and shifted. He probed gently until he found the dense mound of her G-spot and began to massage it lightly.

  She gasped. Not ready to go again, huh? He grinned against her soft, moist flesh, and the
n put his tongue to her. He avoided the clit since it was still probably too sensitive, but he explored all her secret folds and crevices, working with a light touch here, a firmer one there, and gauged her response from her sighs and moans and the way her body once more bloomed for him.

  All the while, he kept massaging the magic spot inside her.

  “Oh, that feels so good,” she cried when he returned to her clit, which was once again blushing in eagerness.

  He’d only been toying with her about taking her clit right into his mouth, but it seemed like a pretty good idea.

  He tried it.

  She liked it.

  In fact, she liked it so much she screamed, and he had the pleasure of feeling her pleasure burst inside his mouth like summer-sweet fruit. He stayed with her through the aftershocks and brought her gently back to earth once more.

  He was only human, and the seat of his own pleasure had been screaming for attention long enough. Rising, he began to strip off his clothes, wanting to be inside her to catch the last of her contractions.

  He was naked in seconds, fumbling for his night table, when she stopped him.

  “My turn,” she said.

  With her heavy-lidded eyes, and her hair tangled from thrashing on the pillow, she looked like a well-loved Gypsy.

  That wasn’t an offer he was about to turn down. But he’d held himself back so long, he was worried he might embarrass himself. “I’m not sure how long I’ll last,” he told her honestly, not wanting the party to end the minute she invited him in the door.

  She smiled and pushed him down on the bed. Then she kicked aside the panties that were still hanging from her shoe, rose to stand beside the bed and, slowly and erotically, pulled her dress over her head.

  Once again he groaned. Of course the panties and garter belt had a matching brassiere, and of course it made him salivate to see her generous breasts barely contained in the lacy purple, the dusky nipples playing peekaboo through the fabric. “They should sell blood-pressure medication along with those things.” He moaned, watching her. She didn’t remove the shoes, or the stockings and garter belt, but she did, after an agonizing minute, slip off the bra.

  Luke loved breasts. All breasts. Large ones, small ones, black ones, white ones, Asian ones; he loved the bounce and curve and the personality of every pair. But he’d never seen breasts that he loved as much as these. He could have sworn they flirted with him. Bouncing jauntily as she knelt beside him on the bed, brushing against him.

  If he’d ever been this hard, he didn’t remember the time. He was literally quivering to have that beautiful, warm, full-lipped mouth on him.

  She shot him a teasing glance and wrapped her small, capable hand around the base of his penis. He was close to weeping.

  “Now. Do you like light gentle licks? Or do you prefer a long, stronger stroke?”

  Damn it, she was on to him. He never should have teased her in the car. “Anything,” he begged. “I’ll take anything.”

  She chuckled and, since she was obviously a woman of compassion, didn’t tease him any longer. She simply opened her mouth and sucked him inside where it was warm and wet and her tongue danced on his flesh. Sweat broke out on his brow as he fought the urge to explode. His blood was thundering in his ears, his breath sounding like that of a winded marathon runner.

  There was only one way he could prevent imminent humiliation. Grabbing her shoulders when she came up for air, he flipped her onto her back and covered her body with his own. While he kissed that beautiful mouth that gave him so much pleasure, he reached for a condom.

  Then he entered her in one swift, hard thrust. Now he let his inner caveman out. The poor guy deserved a break. His loving wasn’t pretty, or suave; he pumped into her with all the pent-up agony and frustration of the wait, and with all the suppressed desire in him.

  Instead of being turned off by his crude rutting, she seemed to get into the spirit of the thing, hooking her legs around his hips and joining in the frenzied mating with enthusiasm. They roared like a pair of jungle lions as climax shook them; she stuffed the handiest thing into her mouth to quell her cries. Unfortunately, that something was his shoulder. Even as he came in a hot rush, he was conscious of the sharp pain of her teeth biting into him.

  Afterward, they collapsed, sweating and exhausted, into sleep.

  It was dark when he awoke. And he was hungry.

  Shari slept on beside him, her hair in sexy tangles from their wild lovemaking. God, she was gorgeous.

  He decided to let her sleep while he rustled up some food, but a trip to the fridge informed him there wasn’t much in there.

  His stomach growled as he dug out peanut butter and a loaf of bread.

  “What time is it?” a sleepy voice asked.

  She stood there, heavy-eyed, her hair a beautiful mess, his robe hanging to her ankles, and he wanted her again. He couldn’t get enough of her. He was acting as though he were the eager novice she believed him to be; a guy who’d only just discovered sex and was suddenly obsessed. Which was exactly how he felt.

  Dropping his gaze to his watch, he said, “Almost six.”

  “Is that dinner?”

  He spread peanut butter onto bread in a generous swipe. “Nope. Before-dinner snack. I’m starving.”

  “You’re always hungry.”

  He grinned at her. “I’m a man of healthy appetites.” He sank his teeth into his peanut butter sandwich, but he let his gaze rove her body deliberately, letting her know he was only fueling up until it was time to indulge his favorite appetite.

  One eyebrow arched as she stared back at him.

  “Want one?” He gestured to the jar and the bread.

  “No, thank you. Do you want to come up to my place for dinner? I’ve got some casseroles in the freezer.”

  “I want to come up to your place. Dinner’s a good start.”

  She chuckled and disappeared into the bedroom.

  He polished off his sandwich and then followed her.

  She’d pulled her dress back on, but it was wrinkled. He liked the fact than anyone she would pass in the hall was going to know damn well what she’d been doing with her Saturday afternoon.

  “I love how organized you are,” he said. Shari was the kind of woman who had casseroles in the freezer. Stuff like that always impressed him.

  He dragged on jeans and a shirt and they headed up to her place, where he tried to forget the fact that the last time he’d been here he’d lost consciousness.

  She went straight to the freezer, so she must be as hungry as he was. “Vegetarian chili? Potato-and-cheese soup? Or…hmm, the label fell off. Mystery casserole?”

  As though he did it every night, he walked to the cutlery drawer and took out knives and forks. “Let’s have mystery casserole. I feel adventurous.” He even remembered where she kept the placemats and napkins.

  “I’ve got wine and beer in the fridge, if you like,” she said, taking the foil cover off the dish and inspecting it. With a shrug she stuck it into the microwave.

  He opened the small freezer above her fridge just to have another look at the neatly stacked casserole dishes. “This is amazing.”

  She chuckled. “It’s mostly survival. I’m usually too tired to cook when I get home from work, and who wants to make a full meal for one person? So, since I love to cook, I make a stew, or soup or pasta and freeze it into smaller portions.” She scratched her nose. “It sounds kind of ‘lonely single woman,’ I guess, but it works for me.”

  “No.” He shut the freezer door and turned to stare at her. “It’s terrific. I eat way too much take-out because I’m lazy. Well, I also go out a lot because I work alone and live alone. There are days my larynx could fall out while I’m brushing my teeth and I’d never notice. Sometimes I never talk to anyone all day.”

  “That sounds like heaven. I’m talking all day—” she grinned “—or yelling for order or listening to hundreds of high school kids. You’ll find out on Tuesday. Your larynx may fall out from
overuse.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” And amazingly, he was. He was curious to see Shari in her work environment. He had a feeling she’d be a dedicated teacher. He bet she was also the unknowing recipient of a few male teenage fantasies.

  She also probably had a busy social life and he was horning in on it. “It’s Saturday night. I’m not keeping you from something, am I?”

  “No, I—” She gasped and slapped a hand across her open mouth. “Oh, I forgot. I do have plans. It’s the going-away party for one of the teachers. I can’t believe I almost forgot.” She blushed adorably when she glanced his way. “I’ve had my mind on other things. Chapter seven is a personal favorite.”

  “No problem,” he said, not happy about the tug of disappointment in his belly. He was Mr. Casual. He shouldn’t care that Shari already had plans for tonight. But he did care. He hadn’t spent nearly enough time naked with her, or enough time just talking. “I’ll head out and find a burger or something.”

  “No, don’t do that. We’ve got time for dinner. The going-away party is at one of the teachers’ houses. We were all invited to bring someone if we wanted. You’re welcome to come with me.”

  Usually, he avoided other people’s work things like the plague, but a Saturday night without Shari didn’t hold a lot of appeal.

  “Okay, I’ll come with you, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.” She eased closer and placed her lips against his neck.

  “There are a few more diagrams I’d like to explore in chapter seven.”

  That Lance Flagstaff had created a monster.

  Luke would love to buy the guy a beer.

  If he wasn’t already living inside Lance’s skin.

  Since when had his life turned into this weird combination of fiction and fantasy?

  He was going to have to admit to Shari that he’d written Sex for Total Morons. He knew that. But she was having so much fun tutoring him and he was having as much fun letting her that he wasn’t quite ready to let the real world intrude. An annoying little voice inside him whispered that he was in trouble here. Shari was showing up in his idle dreams about the future, and more and more he was seeing her in his fictitious psychiatrist—the one who would be pivotal in saving or damning his tortured hero. Once again, he wondered about the fine line between fantasy and reality.