The Fifth Lesson (The Bay Boys #2) (10 page)

Holy crap
, she thought in disbelief.
 
She’d possibly just had the biggest orgasm of her life.
 
At the hands—er, fingers, she supposed—of a sexy, adorable virgin.

Breathing in the clean sheets, his cologne, his sweat, Christie felt at peace.
 
Safe.
 
Wanted.
 
All feelings that she craved more desperately than anything.
 
She let herself enjoy the moment, soaking everything in.
 
Because she knew eventually that all good things came to an end.

“Is this the part where I come up with something witty and funny to say post-orgasm?” Adam asked sleepily, cutting through the silence.

She smiled, her cheek snugly pressed to his chest.
 
“I don’t know.
 
What do you have in mind?”

“Nothing.
 
Absolutely nothing,” he told her, his breath tickling her hair.
 
“My brain has officially turned to mush.
 
I don’t even think I could recite the Pythagorean theorem right now.”
 
He sounded truly put off by that.

He.
 
Was.
 
Adorable
.
 
She didn’t care if Adam hated that word, because he could be adorable and panty-dropping sexy all at the same time.

“Mmm, if you keep talking nerdy to me, we may have to start this all over again,” she teased.

“I don’t know if my jeans could take it,” he joked.

Christie glanced down his body to the obvious wet patch beginning to spread.

Uneasiness began to plague her.
 
The quiet peace she felt only a moment before slipped from her grasp.

She hadn’t planned for things to go quite so far tonight.
 
When she drove over to Adam’s house earlier this evening, she just thought a little caressing and kissing were in order.
 
First base stuff.

Instead, they’d been a few articles of clothing short of a home run.

She’d lost all of her control around Adam, even though she’d been the one
in
control.

It was a scary thought.

But wasn’t that what she wanted?

“Maybe you should go get cleaned up,” she suggested, pushing herself up into a sitting position.
 
“I should probably head home anyway.
 
It’s been a long day.”
 
And she was only running on four hours of sleep.

Adam was quiet as she left the bed.
 
She was tugging her clothes back into place when he said softly, “I don’t want you to think you have to leave, Christie.
 
You can stay here tonight, if you want to.”

She shook her head, smiling.
 
She needed to create boundaries.
 
Fooling around was great and everything, but sleeping in his bed, feeling his warmth surround her, making her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long time…she would start getting other ideas.
 
And those were dangerous.
 
She’d meant it when she told Livy she wasn’t looking for a relationship right now.
 
She was looking for fun.
 
And Adam offered that to her and more.

She leaned over the bed, realizing that she hadn’t really given him a proper kiss all night.
 
So, as her blonde hair cascaded around them, she pressed her lips against his.
 
Adam responded right away, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her closer.
 
Her tongue briefly caressed the seam of his lips before she pulled away.

God, she loved kissing him.

Seeing him lying on his bed, bare-chested, a wet spot from his orgasm on his jeans, his golden eyes glowing behind his glasses…she was already starting to get dangerous ideas.

She smiled.
 
“Well, kissing is one area we don’t have to cover, since you’re already amazing.”
 
He flushed.
 
“I’ll let myself out.
 
I’ll text you later, okay?”

He studied her in that Adam way of his, cocking his head to the side, silently assessing her words.
 
Finally, he nodded.
 
He seemed to know when to pick his battles and he knew right now was not one of those times.
 
“Alright, but I’ll walk you down.”

She knew better than to protest.
 
So, Adam led her down the stairs, albeit a little stiffly.

At the door, she turned to say goodbye, but instead was greeted by another unexpected kiss.
 
Christie gasped against him, her insides quivering as her bones melted.

He pulled back.

Staring into his golden eyes, she whispered, “Quick learner indeed.”

NINE

After tossing and turning all night, Christie finally decided to get out of bed at the crack of dawn when she could sleep no longer.

She was mentally and physically exhausted from the past couple days, from the time she sent that stupid email to what happened between her and Adam last night.

The night before felt like some crazy dream.
 
But the image of Adam’s taut, strained body fighting against his release would be burned into her brain forever.
 
That was the proof that last night had actually happened.
 
That she hadn’t just imagined it all.

She wanted to call Livy and tell her everything, but Christie figured Adam wanted to keep their lessons private.
 
Until he told her otherwise, she’d keep the next month just between them.
 
And a more selfish part of her didn’t want to share their experiences with anyone, not even her best friend.

Snazzy meowed loudly in irritation when Christie rolled out of bed.
 
Her cat always slept at the end of her bed and tended to be very disgruntled whenever Christie ruined his peace and quiet.
 
With a withering glare, he settled back down to sleep as Christie made her way out to the kitchen.

She put the kettle on to boil water and retrieved a black tea bag from a tin.
 
As the water boiled, she crossed to check her phone and her email.

Christie was disappointed when she saw Adam hadn’t texted her, but what did she expect?
 
She’d been the one who’d all but ran out of his house last night.
 
What he must be thinking of her right now…

Instead, she sent a quick text to Livy and then to Kate, who’d both asked her how Operation Retrieve ‘Go Fuck Yourself’ Email turned out.
 
Then she checked her email.

There were some emails from Joseph, which she quickly skimmed over.
 
Nothing too important, just exhibit opening details.

Then she saw another email from her aunt.
 
Mentally groaning, Christie knew she should probably respond this time.
 
Opening the email, she sunk back into her chair, bracing herself.

From:
Barbara Pinkerton

To:
Christie Allaway

Subject:
Next week

Christie,

Please reconsider seeing your dad next week.
 
He’s trying really hard to make amends.
 
He told me he sent you a letter, but he hasn’t heard back.
 
He’ll get in next Monday and then leave on Thursday and I know he really wants to see you while he’s here.
 
Come over for dinner on Tuesday night, just for a little while.

Love,

Aunty Barbara

This was not a good way to start the day.

Dropping her head into her hands, Christie struggled with a decision.
 
The last time she’d seen her dad, when she’d been eighteen and old enough to leave home, she’d told him she never wanted to set eyes on him again.
 
She told him she hated him.

She may hate him.
 
But there was always a part inside her, the part that remembered him before what happened, that loved him.

But she had to look out for herself now.
 
Seeing him again, after all these years, would allow the ugliness of the past to enter into her life.
 
She preferred her life to be untarnished by those memories.
 
When she left home, she left them all behind in that run down house with the overgrown grass and the blue door.

But now the past was knocking.
 
Her father would be here next week to visit.

She’d burned his letter over a candle flame.

The people Christie had loved most in the world had also hurt her the most.
 
Cut her deep to the bone.
 
It was hard to forgive and even harder to forget.

She stared at her aunt’s email and then sent off a quick reply.

From:
Christie Allaway

To:
Barbara Pinkerton

Subject:
Re: Next week

I’ll think about it.
 
I promise.

That was all she wrote and she sat back as she listened to the
whoosh
of it being sent off.

Rising from her chair when the kettle started to scream, Christie crossed back to her kitchen and prepared her tea.
 
Then, still in her underwear, she wandered over to her mini studio that took up half her living room.

Settling into her stool as she carefully sipped her tea, she studied her progress on her current painting.

All throughout her teenage years, she’d imagined the feeling of freedom, of happiness, of acceptance.
 
It had inspired her for this piece.

The woman in the painting was beautiful, with flowing blonde tresses and golden skin.
 
Christie didn’t know the color of her eyes, since they were slid shut in bliss and serenity.
 
A sensual smile curved her lips.
 
A translucent white gown showed pert, pink nipples and flared hips.

Her arms were outstretched, arched gracefully over her head as she danced in a gust of wind.
 
The gold ribbons in her hair blew wildly, caressing her delicate features, framing her against the backdrop of a grey sky.

She hadn’t a care in the world.
 
She was truly free, beautiful in her awe and sensuality.

Just looking at it filled Christie with joy.
 
She’d never sell this painting.
 
This was an image that had been haunting her for years, an elusive image that was slowly coming to fruition before her very eyes.
 
And now she was almost done.

Swapping her tea mug for her palette, she started mixing paints, watching as the colors blended into a perfect shade.
 
She touched the brush delicately to the canvas.

This had always been her escape.

*
   
*
   
*

On Wednesday afternoon, during his lunch break, Adam called Christie, despite not hearing from her since she’d blindfolded him on his bed and made him orgasm in his jeans.

“Adam,” she greeted, surprise evident in her voice.
 
“Hey.”

“Hi,” he said, suddenly unsure.

Christie paused and then, sounding as though she was grinning, repeated, “Hi.”

Adam chuckled, unable to help himself, which drew some stares from those in line with him at his favorite Greek place in the city.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked.
 
He could picture her with her flirty smile and he was suddenly glad that he wasn’t seeing her in person.
 
That dangerous smile would bring him to his knees.
 
Again.

“I just hadn’t heard from you since…” he trailed off.
 
And then he realized he sounded like a desperate, needy loser.

But before he could correct himself, she spoke, “I know, Adam.
 
I’m
so
sorry.
 
I’ve been meaning to call, but our exhibit opening was last night so I’ve been a little distracted.”

She sounded so dismayed that Adam realized it wasn’t just an excuse.
 
Her lack of communication hadn’t been a blow-off.
 
“Of course.
 
I’m sure you’ve been more than preoccupied at work.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” she purred over the line.
 
Adam felt his cock twitch.
 
Jesus
.
 
It was like she controlled it.
 
Even through the phone.
 
Remote controlled cock?
 
Check.

Clearing his suddenly dry throat, he croaked out, “Yes.”
 
And then to change the subject, he asked, “How did the opening go?”

“Same old, same old.
 
A bunch of rich men and their wives buying art that they probably will never hang.
 
But one of the caterers
did
light a man’s jacket on fire by accident.
 
So, it turned out to be a pretty exciting evening.”
 
Adam laughed.
 
“What’s been new with you?”

“Well, that’s the reason I’m calling,” he started uncertainly.
 
He knew his mother would embarrass him eventually.
 
He should’ve never thrown her that bone last Sunday.
 
“My, uh, mother seems to think that you and I are…together.”
 
Hurriedly, he rushed through his story, “She called last Sunday night and I told her that a friend was coming over.
 
She jumped to the wrong conclusions, but now she’s like a shark circling blood.”

“Okay…” Christie trailed off, encouraging him to continue.

“She wants you to come to dinner tomorrow night, if you’re not busy.
 
I’m sorry, I really tried to dissuade her, but she’s relentless.
 
Plus, she’s…” Shit.
 
He hadn’t meant to go down this path.
 
“She’s…uh…”