Jennifer's Lessons
Jennifer's Lessons
Ellora's Cave
Release date: January 25, 2011
ISBN: 9781419932564
Genre: Contemporary BDSM
Order from EC
Excerpt
Blurb:An ex-soldier preparing for an engineering career, Blake needs a tutor to help him catch up in his math classes. He gets more than he expected in the brilliant Jennifer. Sparks fly from the moment they meet, and though Blake suspects Jennifer can’t handle his kinky tastes, he can’t resist her. She could benefit from the discipline he offers but neither of them is sure she could live the lifestyle permanently—and anything less isn’t an option for Blake.
Chapter One
He was so different from the other students in the Advanced Calculus class, Jennifer couldn’t help noticing him.
She’d scurried in at the last moment of that first day of classes and plopped down on the left side of the aisle about halfway back, then surveyed the room, waving to people she knew. Her glance slid by him at first but caught and slid back again.
He sat near the front on the opposite side, by himself, and didn’t seem to know anyone else. He didn’t look around after a single sweeping scan of the room, didn’t glance or smile at anyone. Tall, dark and handsome, Jennifer thought, then revised the opinion to tall, dark and not exactly handsome. Maybe better than handsome. That hard, tough face with the firm mouth, straight, uncompromising nose, deep-set dark eyes and high forehead appealed to her more than if he’d had bland good looks. He was older than the other students, probably on the upper end of his twenties rather than the lower.
His stern, almost harsh expression grabbed her in ways a pleasant smile wouldn’t have, provoking attraction that was edged with something darker. Not quite fear, but stronger than doubt. That air of coldness and danger around him touched something inside her that responded with interest.
She considered changing seats to an empty one nearer to him, but the professor started class before she could move. The stranger answered to the name “Blake Daniels” when the roll was called. The name seemed too plain for him.
When Professor Scott got to her name, he paused for a moment and stared at her. “Miss Jansen, I do hope you’ll permit your friends to pass or fail by their own effort this year.”
“Yes sir,” she answered. “I will. I promise.”
Unfortunately, a couple of the Kappas she’d hung with the previous year sat behind her. Everyone in the room heard their snickers at her answer. She felt the heat rise in her face when the entire class, Blake Daniels included, turned to her. Most people grinned. Daniels just gave her an icy stare.
Fortunately the professor went on with calling the roll and then launched into his introduction to the course.
When the time was up, she tried to intercept Blake on the way out of the class, but he walked by, taking no notice of her.
Later that day, back in her dorm, she mentioned him to her suite-mates. None of them knew a Blake Daniels or had heard anything about him. Not really surprising on a campus that boasted more than eight thousand students.
“What is it about this guy?” Verna asked. “I mean, you’ve got plenty of guys chasing you, and you don’t seem to care all that much for any of them. What’s special about this one?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He’s good looking but not the handsomest guy I’ve ever met. And personality-wise… I don’t really know yet. He just seems sort of hard and distant.”
“He didn’t fall all over himself when you smiled at him.” Verna gave her a wry grin. “That makes him different from the other guys.”
“Maybe he’s gay?” Sarah suggested.
Jen shrugged. “Doubt it, but you never know.”
“Married? Or committed,” Verne ventured.
“Could be too, though he wasn’t wearing a ring. But I’m not going to go pining over him.”
“Plans this weekend?” Lynn, the fourth member of the group, asked.
Jen snagged her calendar from her desk. “Party with the SAEs Friday. Football game with Jay Rockwell Saturday and a party at his house that night. Study date with Sam Pennington Sunday.” Organization wasn’t her strong point, but she’d finally forced herself to write things down when she started getting times, dates and guys mixed up.
Verna shook her head. “After three years of watching it, I still can’t figure out how you maintain those grades with your social schedule. And in math, yet.”
“Actually Math makes it easier,” Jen answered. “Not so much studying. You either get it or you don’t. Aside from a few formulas, there’s not much to memorize. Not like history where you have to keep track of all those dates.”
Her roommates just grinned. They were all seniors now, and Jen had helped all three of them get through the university’s math requirements. They’d helped her struggle through history and French literature.
“I’ve got to get to bed.” Verna punctuated the statement with a yawn and headed for the bathroom. The rest followed her shortly.
For the next two weeks, Blake Daniels continued to ignore her. Jen tried to keep her eyes off him, determined not to act like a teenager with a crush. It didn’t work. She couldn’t help sneaking occasional glances. He spoke with the two guys who sat behind him every now and again, but no one else. He rarely answered when the professor threw out questions. His isolation and grim demeanor roused something even deeper than sexual attraction. It appealed to a desire or need she barely acknowledged. It was early in the semester, but she decided to watch for an opportunity to get to know him.
Meanwhile, Jen kept up her social life, though the constant round of beer-keg blowouts, dancing and yakking about campus capers and conquests had begun to pall a while back. After three years of it, the parties and chatter were feeling hollow now. Even a bit juvenile and tiresome.
Her life changed a week later, when Professor Scott asked her to stay after class for a minute. She did a quick mental review but couldn’t come up with anything she’d done wrong recently. She hadn’t even let the Kappas copy homework assignments, despite their frequent pleas.
[...]
She sat in her usual spot in class the next day and contented herself with giving him a smile when their eyes met. A vague outline of a plan began to form in her head, but she needed to know a few more things about him before it could fully take shape. Those thoughts made it difficult to concentrate on the calculus class, or any other that day.
She was ten minutes late getting to the study room Wednesday evening. He looked up as she entered and the harshness of his expression softened. It couldn’t be relief, could it? Had he thought she’d stood him up? “Sorry I’m late,” she said, struggling to catch her breath after running up the stairs. “I’m not always too well organized.”
“I noticed you’ve been late to class a couple of times.”
She shrugged off her book bag and settled in the chair next to him. “I just seem to lose track of time somehow.”
“You don’t pay enough attention to it.”
“Probably right,” she admitted. “It’s one of my New Year’s resolutions every year, but after a couple of weeks I’m right back to being a ditz.”
“I’m not sure you’re a ditz,” he answered. “A bit sloppy and careless maybe.”
“I think I’d rather be a ditz. Sloppy and careless sounds so negative somehow. I don’t intend to be disorganized and behind. It just happens.”
“Isn’t that the definition of sloppy and careless?”
She pointed to the book and said, “Let’s just agree to disagree on that and get down to work.”
He nodded, smiled and looked down at the paper where he was working out the solution to problem. For a while Jen concentrated on helping him figure them out, but she hadn’t forgotten her vague plan either.
Almost twenty minutes went by before she found an opening to touch him. As he wrote a series of numbers and symbols, she saw him make a mistake and reached for his hand to stop him.
He froze, staring at the hand that remained around his. His indrawn breath made a satisfying hiss. “Jen—”
“You made a mistake,” she said, pointing with a finger of her other hand, not freeing his. “These two should be combined before you multiply it out.”
“Oh.” He barely breathed the word. “Okay. Let me fix it.”
She withdrew her hand, and he erased the incorrect figures, replacing them with the right ones. She didn’t touch him again until close to the end of two hours. “I think we’ve covered enough tonight,” she said, stopping him from turning the page to the next set of problems. “I’m tired. I’m also hungry. I didn’t have time for dinner tonight. You don’t have to drive me back. I need to stop at the snack shop and get something to eat.”
She packed up her things and said goodbye, leaving it entirely up to him. He didn’t hesitate this time. He called “Wait,” while she was still heading for the door. “I’m hungry too. Let’s do a little better than the snack shop.”
Jen struggled to keep the satisfaction from her voice or face. “What do you have in mind?”
He looked up from gathering his books and papers. “Do you like Chinese? There’s a place down the road that I’m told does great food.”
“Wan’s Wok? I like it a lot. You’ve never been there?”
“I haven’t eaten out much since I got back.”
“At all?” she asked.
“Okay. At all. I generally just throw together a sandwich or open a can of soup.”
Jen paused, taken aback by a possibility she hadn’t considered and wasn’t sure how to ask about. “You… That is, we don’t have to do this. The snack shop is fine if… Or, look, I’ll pay for it since it was my idea.”
He glared at her. “Money isn’t an issue. You will not pay for it. Let’s be clear on that. If I suggest going to a restaurant, I’ll pay for it.” The force of the words took her by surprise. “I’m not in financial trouble.”
“Okay. If you’re sure it’s not a problem.”
“It’s not. Ready to go?”
“Yes.” Jen watched him stuff the rest of the papers in his bag with jerky, impatient motions. What had gotten into him? Was this so hard for him?
She kept the conversation flowing as they drove the short distance to the restaurant, asking him about other classes he was taking—one Physics class, English Lit and Art History—and his family—mother, father and two sisters, all living in New Jersey. He wasn’t voluble, but he was willing to tell her about his background, his family, growing up in south Jersey and going to NJU for a couple of years until he enrolled in the army. Coming back was a difficult transition, but he didn’t want to talk about that or his service and turned the tables by asking her about her family. That carried them through most of dinner, and then her classes and plans for the future took them the rest of the way.
They talked about their favorite movies on the way home and discovered they both liked science fiction and action and adventure flicks. He even liked comedy, including some romantic comedies, though he admitted he hadn’t seen any in years.
Beneath the conversation was a growing tension, though. In Jen it took the form of Will he kiss me when he drops me off? She wasn’t sure if his was the same conflict or not, but she could tell by his tone that something was going on in his mind beneath the casual banter.
They both got quiet as he approached her dorm. Instead of pulling up in front of the building to let her out, he drove into the parking lot and found an empty slot. He turned off the engine but faced forward, looking into the darkness ahead, which was punctured by lights from other campus buildings and parking lots.
Then he turned abruptly and leaned over. He put his hands on either side of her face, rotating it toward him. His mouth came down on hers. The jerkiness of his movements led her to expect a harsh assault, but he surprised her.
His lips were warm and soft, brushing gently over hers at first. After her first astonishment, Jen put her hands on his shoulders and leaned toward him. His flesh was warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, the muscles solid and hard. But his lips worked hers in an efficient and exciting way, alternately sucking gently and swiping with his tongue. Heat roused from the contact and poured through her, rivers of fierce, hot energy that made her want to get closer. Her heartbeat picked up, hammering in her chest. He nipped gently, sending small jolts of electricity rippling through her nerves.
His tongue outlined her mouth, then pushed into it, demanding entrance. A shiver ran up and down her spine at the delicious sensations he roused. She opened up, allowing him entrance. Blake tasted like Chinese food and the tea they’d had with it as well as something tangy and distinctively himself. His tongue brushed over her teeth to explore more deeply. Her breath came out in tiny, harsh puffs of air. A fire ignited in her core, making her muscles tense and pussy swell.
Part of her couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d wanted Blake from the first moment she’d seen him, but he’d been so cool and reserved she’d never expected this sudden outburst of passion. It fired both her fear and her desire.
Someone groaned, but Jen wasn’t sure which of them had produced the sound. Blake shifted his hand to run it down the side of her throat while keeping his mouth locked with hers. She ran the fingers of one hand up to his head and threaded them through the crisp, silky strands of his dark hair.
He drew back once, allowing them each time enough for a deep breath, then he claimed her mouth again, plundering her depths with almost savage need. She felt him begin to shake. Her breasts pressed to his chest, the tips hardening into tight points at the feel of the strong body against hers. His fingers brushed over her throat and the fire of need and desire exploded into a conflagration that consumed all thought and awareness.
Somewhere, somehow, he found the will power to pull away. She heard the seat creak as he twisted to face front and flapped his head back against the headrest. His breath pumped in and out on harsh groans.
Jen struggled for self-control, fighting the desire to jump on him and demand more. It took a couple of moments of silent struggle.
“I want you so bad my bones ache with it,” he said after a few minutes. “I’ve never wanted anyone so much.”
She swallowed down the urge to yell at him and instead sounded almost calm when she answered. “I wasn’t denying you. I won’t. I want you too. It’s not all that late.”
He put both hands on the steering wheel. The light of a pole lamp fell over his fingers, showing how tightly he clung to it, as if that was the only way to control himself. “We shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.”
“Why not? You have protection?”
He nodded. “Yes, but… We barely know each other.”
“You want to get me out of your system, don’t you?” she asked.
“Do I?” He gave her a wry look.
“You’ve given a good imitation of it if you don’t.”
“It’s not that. I told you… We’re not right together.”
Jen shrugged. “Why don’t we find out about that?” She leaned over and kissed him again.
He pushed her back. “All right. But I’m not doing it in the car. Even in the back seat. Come back to my apartment.”
“Let’s go.”
He started the car and pulled out of the parking place so sharply the tires squealed. When they stopped for a traffic light, he said, “Jennifer…” He hesitated before going on. “There are things I need to tell you about myself. But not tonight. I don’t think I can tonight. But if there’s more…”
“Let’s just worry about tonight,” she said. “We can talk later.”
“This is a one-time thing.”
“Sure.” She didn’t bother to pretend she believed it, but put her hand on his arm and rubbed up and down, enjoying the feel of his warm, lightly haired flesh. A fine quiver shot through her, betraying the depth of her need. When she dropped her palm onto his jean-covered thigh, he drew in a sharp breath. He probably broke the speed limit more than once on the way to his apartment, but no cops saw it. Finally he pulled the car up in front of a blocky brick building. They jumped out and he took her hand as they raced up the stairs and down a short hall to his place. He almost dropped the keys, his hands shook so hard, but finally the door was opened and they tumbled inside.
“Bedroom.” He pointed down a short hall, though there weren’t many other options, but he stopped in the living room and pulled his shirt over his head.
Jen took a moment to admire the stunning chest he revealed. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, with a light coat of dark hair on the firm pectoral muscles. All the other guys she’d been with were boys compared to this man. She stripped off her own shirt and the bra as well before moving toward him and stepping into his embrace. His chest hair tickled against her breasts, but then he kissed her and the heat in the room rose several degrees.
His fingers brushed down her shoulders and arms, then he cupped his hands under her breasts, moving her back from him enough to make room. She was slim and her breasts small, but his touch on them was almost reverent. “You’re beautiful.”
He brushed over her nipples gently, but it sent shards of icy heat crashing through her.
“Dear heaven,” she moaned.
“Come.” He pulled her down the hall to his bedroom. A single bed was neatly made up and the room itself was almost starkly clean and orderly. Following his lead, she kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her jeans, pushing them down and stepping out of them, standing in front of him in only her white satin panties. His black briefs barely contained the bulge of his cock. Instead of moving toward her, he said, “Get on the bed.”
She shivered with the familiar combination of fear and excitement at the coldly given order. What would happen if she didn’t obey? A glance at his face, at the set expression, made her shiver again. Part of her wanted to find out. Part of her even hoped that what she feared might happen would. Did he know about that secret part of her? The one that wanted a dominating man. A man who would give orders and… Surely he couldn’t know. She didn’t tell anyone about that part of her.
She couldn’t quite work up the courage to defy him, so she scooted back and sat on the edge of the bed.
He watched her steadily, with a flame of desire glowing in his dark eyes. He didn’t smile, but he wasn’t glowering either. Did he ever smile? Had he forgotten how?
Then he was there, moving close until he stood between her parted legs, his bulging briefs almost against her chest. He lifted her and laid her back on the bed. He knelt beside her and dipped his head to take one nipple into his mouth. His tongue tickled at the tip, teeth scraped lightly over the nub. Jen almost screamed as shards of unbearable pleasure shot through her. He repeated it with the other breast, then drew the first nipple back into his mouth and began sucking, hard enough to mix an exciting hint of pain into the pleasure.
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