Page 13 of Pleasure Lessons

An explosion of heat bursts through my body. My back bows off the mattress, and my limbs go stiff as my thighs clamp down on my hand. My breath seizes in my chest as my jaw hangs open, but all sound remains trapped in my throat. My belly clenches, and I snatch the sheets like they’re the only thing anchoring me to the ground.

Finally, I come down. And when I do, I feel…different.

It’s like I’m awake–like my eyes are open. The whole world feels more raw, more primal. That was my first, but it was assisted by Rhett. And now that I’ve experienced that, I am desperate for the real thing.

I needhim, and I need him badly. So badly that tears begin to gather in my eyes. I try to blink them away, but they fall down my cheeks, forcing me to wipe them away with the back of my hand.

Tears of joy cause me to giggle as I slip beneath the sheets, shaken and thrilled all at the same time.

I close the book and press it to my chest, which is thumping heavily with the strong rhythm of my heart. And then, I make myself a promise.

Tomorrow, even if Rhett doesn’t show up, I’m going to find him. If he won’t come to me, I’ll go to him.

I’m not a child anymore. I’m a woman, and I’m ready to learn. And there’s only one man on this earth who can teach me.

6

RHETT

I haven’t slept.I haven’t eaten. I haven’t worked out. I feel like a soggy pancake sitting on a plate, slowly falling to pieces. The sun is already climbing up again as I stare out the window. I don’t even think I’ve blinked in the last half-hour.

My apartment is quiet.Tooquiet. Only sporadic sounds of creaking wood or my own slow breaths distract me from her voice running around in my head.

“What do men want in a wife?”

Jesus Christ.

I drag my hand across my jaw, feeling two days’ worth of stubble scrape my palm as I get to my feet and pace into the living room. The space is spartan, minimal. I have a couch, a coffee table, a television, and a treadmill in the corner. It’s always been fine. I’ve never needed anything more.

Until now…

Now she’s everywhere. I see her face in the blank white walls, in the mirror when I wash my face, in the blank screen of the powered-off television.

Cassandra. Her sweet lips pressed to mine. Her slim waist in my hand. Her scent, still clinging to my skin like heavenly fire. I haven’t showered. I taste her every time I breathe. My cock hasbeen pulsing with lust for hours, aching like it’s bruised, as the sweetness of her delicate, innocent voice just will not leave me alone.

I almost gave in. I almost took her completely, snatched her clothes off and broke her in with a good fucking like she was begging for. And maybe I would have if Clarisse hadn’t shown up at just the right time to interrupt us.

Cassandra is everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman, and more. I’ve been absolutely dying to have her since the moment she walked onto the tennis court, shining like temptation personified.

But she’s promised to another man. A rich and powerful man.

Arthur.

The son of a bitch who owns the estate where I work and signs the checks that let me pay my rent. He’s the kind of man who moves the world, and me? I’m just the help. A blue-collar workhorse unfit for a woman like Cassandra.

I slam my fist against the windowsill and drop my head, my body a whirlwind of turmoil and guilt. I’m doing my best to take the high road–keep my hands off her. But I also promised her I wouldn’t skip out on her again.

And I did.

She must hate me. Think I’m some kind of loser who can’t even keep a simple promise to the woman he’s falling madly in love with. But that’s just it. It’sbecauseI’m so desperate for her that I must stay away. Because if I get close again, who knows what will happen?

I want to drive over there now and confess my love for her, but I can’t. So I do the only thing I know to do when I’m in a tough spot–I go running. I lace up my shoes and head out to the trails behind my apartment. Five miles, then six, then seven…then ten. Every stride a whisper of an echo in my mind as Cassandra refuses to get out of my brain.

All I want is a moment of clarity so I can process a way forward.

But it doesn’t work. All I can think about is her.

When I finally make it back to the apartment, I see my resignation letter sitting on the table where I left it.

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