Page 18 of His Favorite Student
Bring questions.
Yeah, I havesomany questions for him.
6
JESSIE
I’ve preparedfor my second tutoring session the way I prepare for everything. Methodically, academically. I have questions in my notebook with color-coded annotations.
It lies open on my lap, the header readingLesson Two: Male Reproductive Anatomy.I’ve underlined it twice in green. Below that readsPractical Applications?
I added that this morning while I was lying in bed thinking about him again.
Right now, I’m sitting in the same leather chair I was in when he knelt before me, spread my legs, and—
Oh God, I can’t think about that right now. I’m already getting hot. I have to focus. Be a good student for Professor Holt.
He’s leaning against his desk with his muscled arms crossed and his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, showing the bulging veins and raw strength. We’re pretending this is purely academic, but we both know why I’m here.
And it has absolutely nothing to do with my GPA.
Oh, and have I mentioned his forearms? Because I need to. With his sleeves rolled up like that, I can see the tendons shift under his skin whenever he moves his hands. I’ve seenthe anatomical diagrams of the forearm extensors and flexors before, but none of them prepared me for what they would be like onthis man.
“So,” he says, nodding at my notebook. “You have questions.”
“Yes, I have questions.”
“About the course material?”
“Yes, of course.” I nod. “About…anatomy.”
The corner of his mouth moves. The ghost of a smile sweeps through me like a warm wind. “Okay. Go ahead.”
I look down at the first question. I wrote it at two in the morning while I was lying in bed, sweating as I recounted our first session. Thinking about his hand on my arm when he told Belcher to get lost.
I wrote the question down, then, on the lowest setting, slid my vibrator between my legs. It couldn’t have been less than a minute before I climaxed, but it wasnothingcompared to the three orgasms he gave me.
Nothing.
I switched it off and denied myself any more. If I experience that kind of pleasure again, I want it to be fromhim.It can only be from him.
“First question,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Male erectile tissue. The textbook describes the mechanism of male arousal as a vascular event. A complex neurovascular process involving arterial dilation and venous occlusion.”
“That’s right.” He nods, impressed.
“But it doesn’t say what it…feels like. Subjectively.”
His arms uncross, and he sits straighter. My heartrate increases. I wonder if he can tell.
“That’s your question, Miss Monroe?”
I swallow. “Yes, that is my question.”
He studies me a moment with those intense green eyes. The moment stretches on for what feels like forever. It’s like he’smaking a decision. Then something moves behind his eyes. It’s mysterious, but it feels like approval.
“It feels like pressure,” he says, his voice calm and controlled. “Uncompromising, building as your whole body narrows its intention onone thing. Everything else becomes secondary.”
I’m starting to feel light-headed and simply nod as he stretches his right arm over his head.God, look at those biceps.
