Page 77 of Study Buddies

“Nine?” I echoed.

“PM,” he clarified, amusement in his voice.

“I know that.” His arrogance was getting me flustered. “I just meant that’s a little late for dinner.”

“Not at this place. The night will just be getting started.”

“I see.”

He studied me for a long moment until I pointed at the road he was supposed to be looking at. “You’ll have a good time, Victoria.” All traces of teasing had vanished from his voice. “Trust me.”

For some strange reason, I did. “Okay. Looking forward to finding out where the hell we’re going.”

“And I’m looking forward to showing it to you. So, speaking of orgasms?—”

“What?” I squeaked. “We weren’t speaking of that.”

“Well, we are now. Do you remember your safeword?”

My heart pounded harder in my chest as I tried to keep up with his rapid-fire banter. “Yes, do you?”

“Of course. It’s encyclopedia, right?”

After falling for his lie about online gambling in class, I knew better than to believe him. “Very funny.”

“I thought so.” He smirked. “Okay, remember that first drive when I gave you the safeword? Which is thesaurus, but the way.”

He did remember the word, and my shoulders relaxed a little. “I remember.”

“You asked what my pet peeve was during sex, which I wasn’t expecting. That took balls. Or, like, lady balls.” He grinned. “Do you remember what I answered?”

My face flushed, because I remembered that conversation very well. “You said you didn’t like it when women were quiet in bed.”

“Very good.”

“How come all of a sudden you sound like the tutor, and I sound like the student?”

“Because we’re talking about sex. Do you remember why I said I didn’t like it when they were quiet?”

That entire conversation was somehow engraved in my brain. “Because you like knowing you’re making them feel good.”

“Right again. But—that’s not the only reason.” He paused, his eyebrows raised, as if waiting for me to ask what the other reason was.

Which I wouldn’t do.

I didn’t care.

I—dammit. “What’s the other reason?”

He smirked at my capitulation. “Because those sounds a woman makes—the moans, the gasps, the squeals, the screams—are hot as fuck. Hot. As. Fuck.”

My thighs clenched and I resisted the urge to squeeze them tighter together. Kyle seemed to be speaking directly to my body, and the flush on my skin and pounding of my pulse responded to his words.

“Nothing to say to that, Victoria?”

Say something. Say anything.

But I was pretty sure I’d forgotten how to speak, so I shook my head.

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