Page 8 of Pleasure Lessons

He shakes his head. “No.Hisscent. Smokes cigars, doesn’t he?”

I cringe. My God, do I smell like Arthur? How revolting. How embarrassing.

I look up at him, and our eyes meet, and it’s like the world shifts. I see desire in his gaze. And for the first time since we met, I see him falter.

“You could…replace it,” I whimper, my lips barely responding to me. “With yours?”

Even with his shirt on, I see his body tighten. My eyes fall to his shorts, where a large bulge has formed. Is that…it?The curiosity thrills and overwhelms me. Thoughts like the steamy scenes in my books fill my mind, only starring me and Rhett.

For a brief second, I think he’s about to reach out and touch me. But then he’s gone, stepping past me and walking through the arch.

“Lesson tomorrow,” he barks. “Don’t be late.”

I watch as he walks away. I guess I didn’t notice until now, but Rhett’s butt is sculpted and firm, like two slabs of muscle that move in a way that has my skin buzzing.

“Tomorrow…” I whisper to myself, biting my lower lip. “See you then.”

4

RHETT

I didn’t even goto the court today. I skipped our lesson. I can’t go near her.

Cassandra…

I sit on the tailgate of my truck, parked in the servants’ lot of Arthur’s mansion, my elbows on my knees and my hands twisted up in my hair. My gym bag is half-packed beside me but not zipped, and beside it, my letter of resignation, poking out of an unsealed envelope.

I haven’t licked it yet, because if I do–if I make things final and leave–I know I’ll never see her again.

Cassandra…

Just thinking her name feels like a sin. A sin I’d commit a thousand times over if it meant feeling her breath hitch just before our lips pressed together. If it meant being able to feel her slim waist in the palm of my hand.

Yesterday I told her not to be late, and now I’m the one who doesn’t show.

It has to be this way. Because if I see her again, and she bites her lower lip or looks up at me from under those lush lashes, I won’t be able to keep my hands off her. And if I put my hands on her again, who knows what will happen?

Actually, I knowexactlywhat will happen, and that’s the problem.

“Eighteen years old…” I mutter, as though I’m pissed at the words. She’s not a little girl anymore. She’s a woman. But beyond that, she’s a temptation I must resist.

But I can’t. I know I can’t. Not if I’m near her.

So I have no choice. I have to leave, like a coward.

I already told the maid, Clarisse, that I’m taking the rest of the week off. Now I just have to drop off the letter at the manor and I’ll be free. Free of this obsessive attraction that’s gripped me since the moment I set eyes on her.

Just get up, walk inside, and drop off the letter. Be a man, and this will all be over…

That’s what I should do. Instead, I’m sitting here like an idiot, wearing the same shirt I wore last night when I saw her, sweating like I’m about to face the most important moment of my life. I can still feel the connection between us, like an invisible chain from heart to heart. Christ, what the hell is wrong with me?

That’s it. I have to get this over with.

I gulp down a big breath, clap my hands together, and hop down to my feet. I turn toward the house, and my legs simply stop working.

There she is. Standing right in front of me, glowing like an angel.

“Rhett?” Cassandra says quietly, causing my body to turn to fire and ice at the same time.

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