I almost knock my bag onto the gross wet floor. “The hell are you smoking?” I scoff, hoping I sound incredulous rather than caught red-handed. Gracie is hardly a booty call, but I can't let him even begin to suspect what's really going on. He'll sniff out the truth like a bloodhound. And then bite my head off.

Hayden shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Bros before hoes, dude. But I promise I won't be pissed...if you tell me who's been taking up all your free time.”

“I don't have a new woman,” I insist again, finger-combing my hair in quick, annoyed strokes. The guilty lie sits like something rotten in the bottom of my gut. “I've just been feeling tired.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands.

Keeping secrets from Hayden makes me feel like a complete asshole. He trusts me like a brother, and I'm lying to his face about fucking his sister. The whole situation is practically incest.

Maybe I should call things off with Gracie entirely. But the thought of never touching her again makes me feel so shitty. Even if we stayed friends afterward, it just wouldn't be the same. There would be a wall between us.

I discard the idea almost immediately. I can't help myself. I need to touch her again, at least one more time. Our secret rendezvous have to end soon anyway, so why not finish the job?

By the same token, saying, “I don't have a new woman” technically isn't even a lie. I don't have Gracie. Our arrangement is temporary. Two dates down, one to go—and then I have to set her free to live her own love life. With other men.

Gritting my teeth, I start tossing items in my gym bag, packing up to leave. But I pause when I pick up my phone and see that I have a text.

Gracie: Hey sexy :P what are you doing tonight?

I glance up to check where Hayden is. He's finally gone to his locker and started getting dressed, so I type back a quick response before he can see my screen.

Hudson: You, I hope. 8 at my place?

“I fucking knew it. Are you so pussy-whipped, you can't even wait to text her?”

My heart rate kicks up. I hit the power button to lock the screen just as Hayden tries to grab the phone out of my hand. “Look who's talking, dipshit,” I fire back, trying not to sound as panicked as I feel. If he saw Gracie’s name on that screen, or the text messages I’ve exchanged with her, he’d tear off my cock and feed it to me. Shoving him out of my personal space would help my mood, but it would also make him suspicious. “Emery's got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“That's different. She's my girlfriend, not my fuck buddy.”

“And we all know you're the world expert on how to treat women.” I drop my phone back into my pocket. That was kind of a low blow, but in place of the angry frown I expected, Hayden huffs a little chuckle. I guess Emery really is changing him; he can laugh at the idiot he used to be.

As he heads for the locker room door, my phone buzzes. I pull it out, just for a second, and read Gracie's reply: See you there. :)

I was never doing these “lessons” just for Gracie's benefit. But I never anticipated getting addicted to her so quickly. And now, no amount of guilt could ever outweigh my desire for her.

* * *

I go home to get ready for Gracie and kill time until she arrives. I take the wine out of the fridge and pour two glasses. I light a few candles, too, although I don't really know why—this isn't supposed to be romantic.

Gracie arrives ten minutes early, looking beautiful as always in a pink blouse and a pleated miniskirt that shows off her legs. It might be my imagination, but she seems even hotter than before we started sleeping together. More womanly, both mature and playful at the same time. She radiates confidence in her own sex appeal. Now she knows what she wants in the bedroom and she's comfortable enough to take it. Maybe I'm just on an ego trip here, but the thought that my instruction has helped her blossom...it feels pretty damn good.

Then the fact that this is our last evening together hits me. It'll be so hard to let her go after tonight. I can barely imagine never feeling her again. Never kissing her, pleasuring her...

Neither of us touch the wine I poured. We fall into each other, making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers, barely able to drag ourselves apart long enough to get to the bedroom. She seems just as hungry for me as I am for her. Wanting to make the most of our last night. Could she feel the same way I do?

But I push that thought to the back of my mind when she asks, “Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?”

I never thought I'd hear that word pass Gracie's lips. And she barely hesitated, too. I feel almost proud. I can’t help but smirk. “We never did get around to that.” It's always too easy to get caught up in ravishing her and forget about the original point of these lessons. I nod down at the tent in my jeans. “Take me out first.”

She kneels down beside the bed and I spread my legs to make room for her. I hold myself still as she fumbles with the zipper and pulls out my cock, her eyes darkening with arousal. I groan quietly when she runs her thumb over the head, spreading precum over my most sensitive skin. Then she gives it an experimental lick, just to taste, and I shudder.

“Grip the base with one hand,” I instruct. “No, tighter than that...remember what I said before. You’re not going to break it.”

She looks up at me. “I thought I was sucking it?” Her annoyed tone is adorable.

“You are, don't worry. You'll need to work the shaft with your hand while you concentrate on the top with your mouth. I’m going to tell you how to do it just right.”