Page 44 of The Run Home
A little after nine o’clock, I knocked on her door, stuck my head inside and said good night. I never had to fight her about her bedtime. She was a dedicated athlete who wanted to get good sleep so her performance the next day was on par. Even so, I waited until after ten o’clock before I crept out of my room and snuck out the back door.
I held my breath, checking Shae’s back screen door. Unlocked. One down, one to go. I carefully crossed her screened-in porch and tested the back door knob. Also unlocked. I threw my fist in the air in a silent celebration of the green light. I tiptoed inside her house, locking the door behind me and making my way to her bedroom. Tonight, there was no Shae-shaped lump in the bed. My head swung toward the movement to my left, my breath seizing in my lungs.
Shae sat in a chair in the far corner of the room, hidden in the shadows. She’d kept all the lights off, but my eyes were adjusting to the darkness and what I saw had my heart pounding. Her legs were crossed, a high heel–clad foot kicking up and down like she’d been waiting impatiently for me.
“You’re late, Boon,” she snapped.
I swallowed and hurried into the room. Fuck, why did that nose-in-the-air voice turn me on like nothing else?
“Sit down, young man.”
I sat on the edge of her bed, taking in her outfit. She wore a white button-down shirt, unbuttoned indecently low in the front, showing off her incredible cleavage. She also had on a skirt, but it was riding high, showing off her curvy thighs. Thick black-rimmed glasses dominated her face, but that didn’t stop me from taking in the bright red lipstick.
She stood, towering over me in her stilettos while I sat looking up at her like I was the luckiest “student” in the whole world. She walked slowly over to me. My hands itched to grab her luscious hips and bury my face in her cleavage. But I wanted to be a good boy for her. Well, up to a point.
“We’re working on our multiplication tables today.” Her eyes gleamed in the darkness. That little minx. She knew I hated math. Knew it was my worst subject in school.
“Every time you get one wrong, you lose an article of clothing.” She sniffed. “Let’s begin.”
I raised my hand. I watched her lips battle against a smile.
“Yes, Boon?”
“What do I get if I get it right?” Why was I harder than a steel pylon right now?
“I’ll lose one article of clothing. My choice, of course.” She raised a challenging eyebrow.
I nodded that I understood.
“Nine times six.”
My brain froze for a second, but I was properly motivated. “Fifty-four.”
Shae kicked off a heel. Shit. I mean, I loved her bright-red-painted toenails, but I was hoping the shirt would have been first.
“Eight times seven,” Shae rapid-fired.
“Fifty-six!” Damn, I almost botched that one.
Shae kicked off her other shoe. She threw out four more questions and I answered them correctly. She’d lost the skirt,showing off one of the pairs of panties I’d picked out for her. Then her shirt was gone and my brain was officially fried. She looked stunning in the lavender shelf bra, boobs perfectly pressed together.
“Eight times eight.”
“Ah, fuck,” I muttered, actually stumped. Who needed to know this shit when we all walked around with smartphones with built-in calculators? And how was I expected to know any math when Shae stood in front of me in lingerie?
“No cursing, Boon,” she tsked. “Apparently I need to keep your mouth busy so you don’t use words you shouldn’t.” She stepped forward, between my legs, tugged down one cup of her bra and shoved her breast in my face. “Suck until I tell you to speak.”
I bit back a groan, physically in pain considering I was still in restrictive jeans. My mouth opened all too willingly and I sucked on her nipple, my eyes looking up at her for further instruction. My tongue flicked the peaked tip repeatedly. I saw the intake of air, the moment she needed to gather herself before continuing. Her hands fumbled at my waistline, unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans.
“You still have to lose an article of clothing.”
I helped her, shoving the pants down my legs and kicking them off. Temporary relief for my dick, plus her breast still in my mouth made for a good time.
“Twelve times twelve.”
Fuck. We were still doing math. I raised my hand. She nodded her head regally, giving me permission to speak. I let her nipple slip out of my mouth just enough to utter a number that I was almost certain was wrong.
Her nose went in the air. “No. It’s one hundred forty-four. Lose the boxers.”
