Page 28 of Against The Rules

I laugh, mostly out of nerves, but also confusion. He’ll be gentle?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I won’t push you too far. We can take it as slow or as fast as you need.”

“We are talking about you teaching me how to be sexy, right?” I purse my lips, ignoring the way my pulse has quickened. “Because part of this agreement was that we weren’t going to do anything—”

He sighs, clearly exasperated, and the sultry look he’s been pinning me with, making me squirm, evaporates instantly. “That was part of the lesson. It’s called flirting.”

“Oh.” Immediately, I feel like an idiot. God, no wonder my ex always said I was shitty at sex. No wonder the directors are always calling me out for dancing like a cardboard cut-out. I stare at the table, my stomach sinking as all their words float through my mind, razor sharp and too, too fresh.

“Quit thinking.” He’s in my space; he’s moved so quickly I didn’t even realize it, so close that the tips of my breasts nearly brush against the massive expanse of his muscled chest. He rubs one finger across my forehead and I blink up at him, undone by the slight touch.

“My mom would say I’m going to get wrinkles.” I take a step back, but he follows until I’m pressed against the wall, his huge football player body caging me in.

“Talking about your mom and wrinkles isn’t sexy, Savannah,” he says. “Let yourself live the moment.”

I frown, because dammit, he’s right. “I guess I did need these lessons even worse than I thought.” It makes me a little sad. Why am I so bad at this?

“Breathe. Focus on your breathing,” he says, his big body pressing slightly against mine, just enough that I can feel the low growl of his voice in my own chest.

I inhale deeply, following his instructions, and my breasts press against his body. He’s barely touching me, and suddenly, I’m hot all over.

I bite my lower lip, staring up at him through my lashes. He’s watching me carefully, all focus. I can see why he’s a pro athlete. There’s determination in that stare, and being the sole focus of all his attention has me breathless despite all his entreaties to focus on my breathing.

I can’t think outside of the way I want him closer.

When his gaze darts to my lower lip, my teeth biting it, he moves just slightly closer.

“There,” he says. “That’s sexy. Be in the moment.”

The icemaker in my freezer clicks on, the ancient machine making a rumble that makes Ty jump, just a little.

A laugh bubbles up inside me, and I clap a hand over my mouth, knowing all too well that I’m about to fail this first lesson in sexy.

“Did the ice machine just scare you?” I say, and then I’m really laughing, so hard that a snort comes out. He raises one perfectly manicured eyebrow, and I really know I shouldn’t laugh, but that just makes it worse.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” he says seriously, but one corner of his mouth lifts and I snort again.

He’s not laughing, though.

Not yet.

An insane idea strikes, and before I can think better of it, I’m reaching up for him. Maybe it’s from being alone on my couch all day. Maybe I’m just a little bit starved for touch.

Or laughter, or both.

His eyes go wide and he leans further towards me, his breath caressing the end of my nose. I’m biting back laughter, amused beyond reason as my hands stroke across his defined pecs—and then I go for the kill.

“Savannah!” he yelps, his biceps clamping over my hands as I tickle his armpits mercilessly. A laugh booms out of him, and I continue my assault as he tries to stop me. I dance out of his grasp though, laughing wildly as I dive for his thigh, tickling him just above the knee cap.

“Will you stop?” he says between manic laughs.

“NEVER!” I yell, and as I go for his ribs, he catches me up against his body, straightjacketing my arms so tightly I can barely wriggle.

We’re both out of breath and grinning at each other.

“Sexy enough for you?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows. I laugh again, my ribs aching from it.

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