Page 39 of High Sea Seduction

A pinch in my pinkie and a sharp tingle on my scalp alerts me that I’m tugging on a strand of my hair, a nervous tic I’ve never quite been able to master. I hastily move my hand to the table as his gaze flicks from his phone back to me.

“I have a shitload to catch up on,” he says, then shakes his head. “If Harding wasn’t threatening to flunk me despite my agreement with the dean for time off, I’d tell him to go fuck himself.”

“Yeah, I bet a few of his students would like to tell him the same thing,” I reply, attempting a smile.

He smiles back and my heart jackhammers like an over-caffeinated robot. “So.” He draws out the word after another glance at his phone. I pray bitch-face stays silent and doesn’t call him back. “You think you’ll be able to help me catch up?”

My shoulders lift in ahey, trust me, I’ve got thisshrug. “Depends on whether you’re a quick study or not.” His blond brows shoot into the air, and I curse inwardly. “Uh, I’m sure you are. Seriously, it’ll be a breeze.”

His blue eyes turn speculative. “How much is this gonna cost me?” he asks.

I bite my tongue to keep my endless list of Leo-centric wants and needs from spilling forth. “We can talk about that later,” I say instead. When his gaze turns skeptical, I wave him away. “It’s no big deal, really.”

And thus began the sure-to-lead-to-happily-ever-after story of Leo Brummer and Keely Benson.

I’ve tutored him for going on six weeks now and have developed something of a super-major crush on him. I tell myself it’s because he’s not relying on just his looks to get him through life, but I know I’m lying to myself. He’s bright, not brilliant. I’m not crushing on him because of his brain, but because of his super-fuck-hot body. And because at nineteen, I’m super eager and more than ready to rid myself of my virginity and experience what sex is all about.

From the moment I set eyes on him, I knew Leo would be the recipient of said unwanted virginity. I’ve even written a mini thesis on ways to get him to bed. So far, I haven’t been able to put theory to practice because the right opportunity hasn’t presented itself.

But it needs to happen in the next three weeks because I want to head back east to New York for the Easter holidays minus my virginity. I don’t know why it needs to happen, but that’s the date I’ve set for myself, and I always meet my deadlines.

“Umm… earth to Keely!”

Heat shoots into my face as I pull myself from my erotic daydream. “What?”

“I asked if the newsletter was done, like, five minutes ago.”

“It wasn’t five minutes ago, and yeah, of course it’s done. I said it would be, didn’t I?” I reply, avoiding the quizzical glance Jake sends my way.

“Okaaay, can I see it?” he presses.

“Why? I’m the editor, don’t you trust me?” I throw back sharply. I don’t want to open my laptop because Leo’s googled, semi-naked body will be sitting there, ogle ready.

Jake holds up his hands. “Hey, you asked for my help with what questions to use for the end-of-semester poll, remember? If you’ve changed your mind about wanting my help, just say so.”

I remember asking for help, and I bite my lip. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

Jake shrugs. “It’s cool. I know Professor Harding’s been riding your ass pretty hard this semester. What’s his beef with you anyway? You’re by miles his top student.”

I turn away from Jake under the pretext of rummaging through my backpack to hide the heat crawling into my face. No one knows about my encounter with my psychology professor last semester, when I mistook his interest in me as a sexual instead of an academic one.

The whole encounter freaked me out big-time, and I don’t even want to think about it.

“I dunno,” I mumble. “I’m lucky, I guess,” I add snarkily.

“Well, my sympathies and all, but better you than me.” Jake laughs and launches into the neuropsychopharmacology of emotion and cognition module Professor Harding has asked us to memorize before our next class. Relieved to shove the subject to the back of my mind, I concentrate and counter Jake’s rapid-fire argument with my own.

Before I know it, the hour is gone and Jake has left. I slowly open my laptop and stare at the picture of Leo’s bronzed, ripped torso, which is my screensaver. I imagine myself running my hands down his body, licking those flat brown nipples and hearing him moan. In my imagination, he encourages me to do more and I go to town, gorging myself on that hot body until we’re both sweating and panting.

I lie back on the grass, my breathing escalating as I imagine what my first real non-masturbation-assisted orgasm will feel like. My panties grow wet and I squeeze my thighs together to stop the persistent ache that throbs every time I think of Leo.

Leo will be a gentle lover the first time. After that I might allow things to get a little… risqué. I’m all for experimenting a bit. But nothing that involves bondage or gadgets or anything like that.

Ewwww. I grimace just thinking about it. I have no idea why people use those sorts of things. I’ve heard Ashley use a vibrator many nights and the sound alone turns me off.

No, it’ll just be Leo’s mouth, his fingers, his cock.

I blush again just thinking about it and reluctantly rouse myself, sitting upright as a group of four seriously good-looking guys walk past me and claim their own patch of grass a few yards away.

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