Tackled Read online

  what happened. In fact, I want it to keep happening. "I mean, I don't think you're a hooker."

  "Thanks," she says sarcastically.

  "And now it’s your turn. You're sorry for..." I prompt her, my voice trailing off. Damn, this girl is stubborn.

  "I apologize for not showing up to the tutoring session last week, Mr. King," she says, suddenly businesslike. She holds her messenger bag in front of her like a shield.

  I guess she thinks I'm going to grab her and rip her clothes off like some kind of animal. That annoys me. I mean, just because I did it once before and just because I'm thinking about it now doesn't mean I'm actually going to do it right this minute.

  I don't know why I'm so attracted to a girl who gets on my fucking nerves so much.

  It also annoys me that she called me Mr. King.

  "Mr. King?" I ask. "It's Mr. King now?"

  She looks away. "I should have been more professional," she says. "I should have... It's just that..."

  I step close to her. I don't know whether I'm more irritated or more turned on right now.

  "I can work with Mr. King, if that's what you want to call me. You didn't strike me as the submissive type, but it's kind of hot –"

  "I came here to apologize for not showing up," she says. She still holds her messenger bag against her protectively, but when I reach for it, she lets go easily.

  "That's all you came here for?"

  She looks at me for too long before clearing her throat. "That's it."

  "So you don't want to talk about anything else?" I coax her, reaching out and dragging the back of my hand gently down the side of her neck. She does that thing again where she closes her eyes lightly and leans into my touch.

  "Nope," she says.

  "So you're still going to tutor me?" I put my fingers under her chin, tilt her head up to look at me, and her lips fall open slightly.

  "Colton, I don't actually think it's a good –"

  "Tutor me." I lean forward and whisper the words in her ear, and she squirms.

  The words might as well have been fuck me, the way my cock jumps at the idea.

  "I should leave," she whispers.

  "You should," I say. "Except you don't want to leave. You want to stay."

  She's silent for a long time, taking her lower lip between her teeth like she's struggling to make a decision. "Yes," she breathes.

  16

  Cassie

  Yes.

  Did I just say yes?

  The logical part of me tells me I should tell him no. Except I'm standing here like I've developed some sort of paralysis, unable to move. And I don't want to move. I stand here with my feet rooted in the ground, my body's way of protesting the logical part of me.

  Colton looks down at me, his eyes lust-filled. "Tutor me."

  He might as well have said fuck me, the way my body responds to his words. I'm immediately on edge, my body overeager for him.

  "You want to ... study history?" I ask. The non-logical part of me, the part that wants to throw caution to the wind, is disappointed. He wants to study.

  He gives me that crooked smile, the one that makes him look more like a small-town guy than a cocky player. "The last thing in the world I want to do is study."

  "What do you want to do?" I ask. Warning bells are going off in my head right now: Bad Idea Alert! Bad Idea Alert! Do not start something with Colton King!

  "It depends," he says. "Are you still worried?"

  I exhale heavily. "Of course I'm worried. That hasn't changed."

  "But you're still here," he points out.

  "I'm not —" I start. Shit. I didn't come here with a plan exactly. But I know I'm not losing it — the big V — right now.

  Colton puts his finger on my lips. "Do you think I'm trying to fuck you?"

  My face flushes warm. "I — I don't know what we're doing," I say, and that's the truth. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing right now, in Colton's bedroom.

  I'm playing with fire, if nothing else. That's for damned sure.

  "You're taking your clothes off for me," Colton informs me, turning and walking toward his desk. He strips off his t-shirt like he does this every day – Oh God, I think, he probably does, doesn't he? – then balls it up and tosses it in the corner of the room like he's throwing a football.

  When he turns, he's naked from the waist up, and I stand there staring at him like a total idiot. Am I drooling? I might be drooling. He's like a broad wall of muscles and abs and…holy shit, I'm standing in front of half-naked Colton in his bedroom.

  Mouth closed, Cassie. It's not like you haven't seen him naked before. In fact, seeing him naked is what got me into this predicament in the first place.

  Colton clears his throat as he unbuttons the button on his cargo shorts. “Take off your clothes for me, Cassie Rae.”

  Suddenly I'm nervous, put on the spot by the hottest guy I've ever seen standing across the room and stripping naked, like this is a regular old Friday afternoon for him. No guy has seen me naked in…oh, about five years. Since freshman year in undergrad. Good God, that’s terrible.

  That's pathetic.

  Suddenly, Colton is completely naked. Completely and entirely naked and standing not more than a foot away from me.

  "Cassie," Colton instructs. "Undress for me. Now."

  His tone leaves no room for argument, and it sends a rush of arousal through me, the idea that this guy knows exactly what he's doing and he speaks what he wants with authority.

  While I peel off my tank top and let it drop to the floor, Colton sits down on the chair by his desk, facing me with his legs spread out.

  His hand wrapped around the base of his massive cock.

  Heat rises to my face as I watch him stroke his shaft, all the while looking at me.

  "Has no one ever jerked off in front of you, Cassie?" he asks. His hand doesn't stop moving.

  "No." I speak the word uncomfortably.

  "Take off your skirt," Colton says. "Unzip it and let it drop on the floor."

  With my eyes fixated on him, I do it, stepping out of the pooled fabric on the floor to kick it to the side. Then I unbutton my shirt and drop it to the floor. Now I'm standing here in front of him, in a bra and panties and my heels.

  I'm trying not to feel nervous as hell with his eyes on me.

  "Do you see what you do to me? Do you like that I'm hard for you, Cassie?" he asks. He's hard and the head of his cock glistens with pre-cum. I imagine him exploding inside me, his cum dripping between my legs.

  My pussy throbs at the thought.

  I swallow hard. "Yes," I murmur, my voice catching.

  "Take off your bra and let me see you."

  I unhook my bra and slide the straps over my arms, letting it fall to the floor.

  "Perfect tits, perfect mouth, perfect ass," he notes. "I'm going to come all over those perfect tits of yours. And that ass. And I'm definitely going to fill that perfect little mouth up with cum."

  I hear a whimper escape my lips and I'm suddenly aware that I'm standing here pressing my thighs closed because the throbbing between my legs is so insistent. Especially when he talks like that. No one has ever talked that way to me before.

  "You're still worried about breaking the rules,” he says, his hand moving leisurely up and down his shaft. "So I'm not going to lay a finger on you. No rules broken. Take off your panties."

  "I'm positive this counts as inappropriate," I say, but I slip the sides of my panties over my hips and drop them to the floor.

  "Pick them up and hand them to me," he commands. "If you're still worried about the rules, the door is right there."

  When I reach him, stopping just between his spread legs, I dangle the panties from my finger. His knuckles brush against my inner thigh as he brings his hand up his shaft. I look down at him, thinking about how easy it would be to climb onto his lap right now and slide onto his cock, thinking about how it would feel inside me.

  "I am still worried about the rules," I s