Page 26 of Sex Positive

“Quinn, wait.”

He freezes and steps back despite the darkening desire in his gaze.

Charlie inhales shakily. “I need to know something first.” He dips his head in agreement, his face impassive. “Why did you ask me to tutor you?”

He watches her, guarded. She’s certain he’s going to refuse to answer.

“You’re the smartest person I know,” he says quietly. He arches a brow as if she’s going to refute his statement. “I trust you to do the best job.”

Her pulse stumbles at the compliment, and she swallows her discomfort at his open sincerity. If he trusts her with something this important, she can trust him with her experiment, right?

It’s just sex. They probably won’t even get that far.

She nods. “Thank you.”

“Now.” He grins languidly, nodding to the couch. “Why don’t we get you more comfortable?”

With a bravado she does not feel, she ambles to the sofa on shaky legs, trying to calm her racing heart. She sits straight-backed, perched on the edge of the cushion.

He stalks toward her, his gaze assessing and focused. Heat rises across her skin at his overt attention, but she refuses to look away. With effortless grace, he slides onto the cushion farthest from Charlie, his long, muscular legs open and stretched in front of him.

He pats the space between his thighs. “Come here.”

Charlie balks. “Why—”

“Rogers.” His voice is smooth as silk, but his command has her pressing her lips together, fighting a shiver. “Don’t be shynow. I’m here to help you relax.”

She does not point out that sitting between his thighs is the opposite of what she considersrelaxing. His ego doesn’t need the satisfaction of knowing how much she’s already affected by him.

He pats the space again, a knowing glint in his eye.

Clenching her jaw, she stands and steps between his open legs, his smile never wavering. She glares before turning her back to him and perching once more on the edge of the cushion.

Strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her against a broad, firm chest.

Charlie shrieks. “Quinn—” But then his palms flatten across her stomach, gliding over her hips and thighs.

“That’s better,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her neck. “You looked tense.”

Her skin immediately begins to tingle at the sensation. Resting his hands on her wrists, he slowly moves them up her arms. Squeezing her shoulders, he dips his fingers underneath her cardigan.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers.

Against her back, she feels the steady thud of his heart, grounding her. She swallows and nods.

Slowly, he strips off the material, tossing it on the floor. His palms cup her shoulders, bare now, and heat flares across her skin at the contact.

He exhales a soft breath against her neck before his thumb brushes the pulse point under her jaw.

She jumps.

“Your heart is positivelyracing,” he hums, his chest rumbling against her back. Charlie closes her eyes, trying to steady her traitorous heart, her breathing sharp and uneven. “That has nothing to do with me, right?”

“It’s my revulsion,” she croaks.

He laughs, low and seductive, before he presses his mouth to her shoulder.

Her lips part in a soft gasp.