Page 49 of Dirty Martini
I’m wary as I try to read his expression. “How?”
“I’ll give you twenty minutes to memorize as much as you can. Every question I ask that you answer right, I’ll take something off.”
“And if I get all of them right?”
“Then I’ll suck your dick.”
My eyes widen at that. While he’s initiated a lot of the things we’ve done together, he’s only either fucked me or I’ve blown him. We’ve gotten nowhere near him being comfortable enough to give me a blowjob or anything more than a handjob while railing me. I’m trying to figure out how he feels about it, but he’s a locked safe.
“You don’t have to,” I end up saying, even though I want to slap myself for it because Rhys’s lips wrapped around my cock? I’d kill for the chance. “That’s a big deal.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because until two weeks ago, you thought you were straight?” I say, posing it as a question.
He nods pensively but ends up shrugging one shoulder. “Things change, I guess. Either way, I’m sure if you can do it, it can’t be that hard.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you think you’ll be a dick-sucking god your first time.”
“Want to test the theory?” he teases, running his hands down his chest in a way that makes me want to drool. Snickering, he taps my textbook and then flicks my forehead. “Twenty minutes. Get them all right, and I’ll make you come so hard, baby.”
Whelp, that’s all the motivation I need. I think he starts a timer on his phone, but I don’t pay attention as I dive back into my textbook. Every fact I need to memorize flies through my brain, the quick intake of information making me a bit dizzy, but I’m determined. I’m going to get every single question right and my prize will be something I could only ever imagine.
“Time’s up,” Rhys says when his phone goes off. He takes my textbook and notebook and sets them on my desk. “Okay. Let’s start with the basics. What’s the difference between a monosaccharide and a disaccharide?”
“A monosaccharide is a single sugar unit like glucose, fructose, or galactose and can’t be broken down. Disaccharides are two monosaccharides bonded together.”
“Correct.” His fingers play with the hem of his shirt, teasing me with glimpses of skin, before he’s whipping it off and exposing his gloriously lean chest. Throwing his shirt on the floor, he turns back to my textbook. “What are amino acids?”
I scratch the back of my neck, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to recall the information. “Um, they form proteins? When proteins are digested, we get amino acids, which help the body break down food.”
His hands shove at the waistband of his sweats. “Good enough.”
We continue like this for a couple more questions. He makes me have to answer two to get each individual sock off. He even uses his baseball cap as an article of clothing, which is just infuriating. He tosses a couple of hard ones at me, claiming that his underwear is worth at least three points, and I get them all right. Finally, he’s naked. Delicious and so sinful, and I’m finding it hard to concentrate on anything but his hard cock bobbing in front of my face and those porn star glasses.
“Okay, last one,” he tells me. “Get this one right and you get my mouth.”
I straighten up and clear my throat. “Okay, go.”
“What is dehydration synthesis?”
Oh, fuck. No, I know this. Ihaveto know this. My prize is his mouth, and I refuse to let that slip away from me.
“You don’t know it,” he taunts. Stroking his cock, he watches me struggle. “Admit it.”
“Fuck you,” I snap, pinching the bridge of my nose to think.
“You must really not want to get off.”
“Shut up.”
“Guess I’m going to have to fuck my own fist tonight.”
“It’s a chemical reaction!” I shout, a little too loudly. “It’s—um—it has a loss of water from the reacting molecule, and it’s the reverse of a hydration reaction!”
“Ding, ding, ding,” he says, a smile wide on his lips as he approaches me. I rise onto my knees to meet him, hands immediately palming his chest as he brushes his nose against mine. “Lay down.”
I go to do as he says, but I’m not quick enough. Before I can even think of moving, I’m roughly pushed until I’m on my back. I squeak when he manhandles me, hiking my hips up so he can rip off my shorts.
