Page 21 of Texting My Hot Tutor

Through the thin apartment walls, I can hear music thumping loudly.

Somebody yells, an argument.

I wish I was there with you,I type.I wish you could hold me right now. Tell me I didn’t misread the signs in your office. Tell me you were going to kiss me. Because I knew, the first time I saw you, Elias… I knew you were the man for me. Only you.

But then an instinct of self-preservation kicks in, telling me I’m taking it too far.

I delete the message.

Thanks for listening, I send.

I meant it, he replies.I’m here for you.

But why? Just because it’s your job?

I almost delete this message too, but something stops me. I’m able to push send somehow, as though reaching through a fog of nerves and self-doubt.

No,Della, it’s not just my job. We both know what I almost did in the office. I know I’ll have to control it. But it doesn’t mean we can’t talk. I won’t lie, though. It will be hard. I’ve never felt this way about a student before.

Somehow, even as the tears are still stinging my eyes, I’m smiling.

There’s a big grin on my face as I read his words, as I realize what they mean.

So you were going to kiss me? I was starting to think I might’ve imagined it.

Yes, I was. I wanted it so badly. But then I saw your face and I thought I’d made a mistake.

It wasn’t a mistake, I typed quickly.I just didn’t know how to respond. This is a little embarrassing, but I’ve never kissed anybody before. Or done any of that stuff. Do you know what I’m trying to say?

Are you saying you’re a virgin?

I bite down, wondering if Ihavegone too far.

This entire conversation feels surreal, as though I’m going to wake up in class, Mary staring down at me with a stern look on her face. Or my boss at the restaurant will clap his hands loudly, waking me up.

Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.

I am waiting for a response.

For minutes – though it feels like hours – I wait.

But nothing comes.

CHAPTER8

Elias

I stare down at the cracked screen of my phone, wondering how I did that.

Fair enough, I work out a lot. I keep myself in good shape, and I’ve always had a naturally strong grip. But I didn’t think I’d be able to almost shatter a phone by squeezing it.

The second she told me she was a virgin, my balls flooded. Hot tension rushed up my shaft, precome making my engorged tip tingle.

Even after what she’d told me – even with my heart still aching for her, my instinct roaring that I’d always protect her – I couldn’t deny the primal response.

She’s a virgin. She’s never kissed a man, never touched one.

She’s mine, only mine. And she only everwillbe mine.

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