Page 2 of Play to Win
She pulled back quickly, leaving the whipped cream to drip down the length of the dildo. Ethan sucked in a breath. His dick throbbed painfully, teeth and fingers closed into a tight fist to keep from groaning.
Her tongue twirled as she moved further away, and a trail of whipped cream-filled saliva dripped down onto the tip of the dildo. There was no way he could resist imagining that warm, wet mouth closing around him. He could see those desire-filled eyes staring up at him, plump lips smeared with whipped cream. He would drive his hands into her hair at that point, scraping his fingers along her scalp as he held tightly, guiding her mouth back down to his dick.
The immediate noise from the crowd yanked him from the blissful images in his mind. Everyone in the class came to their feet, clapping, smiling and totally appreciating the demonstration. When she lowered her head once more and took the dildo into her mouth, this time bobbing her head up and down, moaning with pleasure and creating a flurry of whipped cream flakes in the process, applause echoed throughout the room.
Ethan unclenched his fingers, moving one hand slowly and hopefully discreetly, over to cup his rock-hard erection. The action only made him want more. He either needed to find someone to give him head like this or allow him to plunge deep inside her while thinking about another woman. Then there was the most likely scenario, where he blew the speed limit trying to get home so that he could jerk off in a hot shower.
“Fuck!” He cursed quietly because he didn’t like any of his options.
But apparently he wasn’t as quiet as he thought because when he looked up the crowd had turned in his direction and the instructor—with the sexy lips who now looked strangely familiar—were all staring back at him.
* * *
Portia had seen him come in. His tall, broad frame dressed in all black looking like a complicated mix of somber and sexy was hard to miss. He was late. The class had started fifteen minutes ago. She’d had four sessions today and would return to this room at eight tomorrow morning to sign copies of her book,The Principles of Pleasure,which had been released a week ago. Her publisher-arranged book tour was starting off with a bang as she participated in the “F” is for Fetish Adult Entertainment Conference. Her schedule for the last two days had been intense, but Portia had to admit she was enjoying every second of it. Until he’d entered the room.
She moved slowly to set the now very messy dildo down on the table. Picking up a napkin, she wiped her hands and mouth, while silently praying her fingers didn’t tremble in front of the room full of people. She did all of this before chancing a second look at him.
“Would you like to join me?” she asked and then immediately clamped her lips shut.
That hadn’t sounded right.
A few women in the class began to applaud because obviously, it’d sounded just fine to them. Heat infused her cheeks and she struggled to maintain her composure, flashes of her very awkward teenage years appearing in her mind.
As for him—the guy with the great body and aqua green eyes—he slowly moved his hand from his crotch and replied, “No. Thank you.”
He continued to stare at her, similar to a time she recalled all too often that had taken place twelve years ago. She’d always loved when he looked at her, even if she’d had no clue what to do about it back then. That heat from her cheeks transferred down to spread throughout her body alerting her to the pleasure she taught for profit, but routinely denied herself.
This wasn’t a foreign sensation to her. In fact, she was often aroused by her research and preparations for her classes. It was part of her occupation, just not a very active part of her real life. Yet, this time was different. This time the arousal was more intense, more urgent and much more intimate than any of her lessons and she knew why.
Ethan Henley. The guy who’d occupied all her teenage dreams until that fateful day when they’d come face-to-face, and he’d rejected her just as her parents and all the other kids in the pitiful town of Providence had done.
“Okay.” She paused and cleared her throat. “Let’s get back to class.”
Tearing her gaze away from him wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. She hadn’t come this far to be sidetracked by an attractive man, with an obvious bulge in his pants. Gazing out to the class centered her once more and she took a deep breath before speaking.
“Next, we’ll return to the earlier lecture portion of this class wherein I went over the principles of pleasure. As you know, pleasure will vary depending on the participants. For women, receiving the ultimate pleasure will depend on things like psychological history, sexual history, relationship history, and even her mother’s relationship and sexual history.”
He moved as she spoke, walking from where he’d originally stood at the door, to the other side of the room. She tried to focus her gaze on two women sitting in the center, but she could see him in her peripheral. She could feel the warmth of his gaze moving over her like an invisible cloak. And he was listening to her, hearing every word she spoke about pleasure and sex. The thought excited and frightened her.
She licked her lips.
“There are also factors that pertain to all of us, man and woman. Things that men will need to be aware of as they set out to pleasure their women and vice versa. The first of all pleasure principles is that it’s not simply about the physical. It’s about so much more.”
He’d moved closer and was now standing to her right now, about fifteen feet away. She should’ve been alarmed. In the five years since she’d been in the adult entertainment industry, she’d learned to keep her distance from students. A few of her colleagues had endured horrific experiences because they hadn’t been careful. But Portia didn’t feel fear at Ethan’s closeness. She felt anxious.
The unwanted sensations made her move quickly through the rest of the hour-long class and breathe a sigh of relief when the last student thanked her and left the room. But he was still there. She wasn’t surprised, throughout the rest of the class she’d felt the heat of his gaze on her, the pressure building between her legs at his proximity and the throbbing of her temples each time she mentally admonished herself for feeling anything where Ethan Henley was involved. Still, she couldn’t deny the feeling as if his mind and body were reaching out to hers. Maybe she was the only woman in the world who thought this way. She’d centered her instruction on mind and body. She’d also based her life—since leaving Providence when she was seventeen years old—on trusting her gut. Today, at this moment, her gut said to turn around and face him.
She did and saw quickly that they were now up close and very personal.
“Portia?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
He was everything she remembered and so much more. The scent of his cologne was spicy and woodsy tickling her nostrils until slithers of desire awakened a chorus of butterflies in her stomach. His shoulders were wider than she recalled, like a linebacker. His chest was muscular back when they were in high school, but was now more alluringly defined in the tight black t-shirt he wore. He was still much taller than her five-foot one-inch stature, the line of his jaw was strong. His complexion was a fawn hue, a mixture of his Black father and Caucasian mother. The color of his lightly trimmed beard and low-cut hair, was sandy brown, and the green eyes that were currently bearing down on her were full of brown flecks.
“Hello Ethan,” she said, her voice much stronger than she was actually feeling.
“You’re back.” He stated the obvious.
“I’m working.” Why she felt compelled to provide a reason, she wasn’t quite sure.
He raised a brow. “Your job is teaching Blow Jobs 101?”
She managed a smile at the incredulous look on his face. It was just like high school all over again. He still thought of her as Plain Portia and she still looked at him like he was the Prince of Providence High and the star running back of the football team.
But that was then. This was now and Portia wasn’t that teenage girl anymore.
“I teach people how to find their pleasure,” she said, holding his gaze.
“Really?” She hated that his gaze still seemed to question her and was shocked when he touched a finger to her bottom lip. “Can you teach me?”
