Page 34 of Sex Positive

Everything is smoldering, and she is one match away from setting all her careful control ablaze.

Sliding another finger over herself, she dips one inside, arching her back. It’s not nearly enough—her own fingers are never enough. A soft mewl crosses her lips, and she is powerless to resist envisioning whathisfingers would feel like inside her.

Do you want to come for me, Charlie?

Yes, she moans.Faster, please,she gasps.

He complies, finding a rhythm, building her higher and higher, coaxing her, telling her how good she is, how good she feels, how he wants to see her lose control—

She breaks, shattering over the edge. A quiet gasp escapes before she bites down on her bottom lip, riding herself through her orgasm, her fingers keeping a frenzied pace until she collapses against her mattress, utterly spent.

Her pulse thumps in her ears as her breathing returns to normal. Blinking up at the ceiling, she removes her fingers from her shorts, content to remain spread-eagle, waiting for sleep to finally take hold. And then the realization of who exactly she just got off to slowly dawns on her.

Audibly, she groans. “Fuckingfuck.”

Ten

Their second tutoringsession is not going well.

“What you have here is a classic argument-based question.” Tapping the open book with her finger, Charlie points out a specific segment in the passage. “People are usually most concerned about the Logical Reasoning section, but if you know how to determine whether an argument-based question requires critical thinking or not, you can determine whether you need to be critical of thereasoningfor the question’s argument or— Quinn, are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Wes glances up from his phone, frowning. “No. Start over.”

Charlie grips her highlighter and glares, annoyance bubbling in her chest. “Do you mind putting a pause on your thrilling social life and focusing for an hour?”

Holding her gaze, he slides his phone across the table. She doesn’t point out that it’s still within reach because that argument would befutile.

Charlie rolls her jaw, returning to the question at hand. “As I was saying, approaching each question with those two identifiers in mind actually makes it easier to determine how to reach a conclusion—”

His phone pings, and he immediately reaches for it, but Charlie is faster, snatching it off the table.

“Rogers—”

“I’m not doing this for my sake.” She holds his phone above her head. He could easily reach for it. Instead, he folds his arms over his chest and scowls. “I already took the test, and you know what I scored. I’m doing this foryou. Because we made a deal, and you followed through on your part, so I’m trying to follow through on mine. But you’re making it increasingly difficult by acting like you don’t give a fuck—”

“I don’t,” he snaps.

“Then we’re done here,” she replies. Surprise flickers across his face before his expression of cold indifference returns. “I don’t deserve this disrespect when I am tryingtohelpyou, Quinn.”

He tips his head back while flexing his hands on the table, and she’s irritated enough that she hardly thinks about the starring role those hands had in her fantasies a few nights ago.

After another tense moment, he runs a hand down his face. “I’m sorry.” He meets her gaze. “You’re right. Youarehelping, and I’m being an absolute ass.”

She’s so stunned by his admission that she can’t help softening at his remorse.

A muscle twitches in his jaw as he leans back in his chair. “It’s my Dad.” He nods at the phone. “That’s who I’m texting.”

Charlie sets his phone between them, but Wes only glares at it.

“You wanted to know why I didn’t have him pay for a tutor.” He smiles wryly. “He offered. Because he can buy anything, including the best LSAT tutor so his son can follow in his footsteps and take over hisillustriouslaw firm someday. But I refused.” His words are laced with derision.

Charlie says nothing, afraid to interrupt this rare moment of vulnerability from him. Even when they were friends, he rarely revealed details about his family or his personal problems.

“He controls so much of my life. When I was growing up, he paid for the best lacrosse coaches, the best private school, and now he pays my tuition here. He even pays for my over-the-top apartment at Avalon.” He laughs, but it’s hollow. “‘Only the best for my boy.’ Because I’m part of hislegacy. And why shouldn’t he pay? With his media company, his firm, his real estate properties, he basically prints money.”

He flips a page in the LSAT prep book idly before closing the book entirely. “But it comes with a price, because he believes he’s owed a say in what I do with my future. We argued last night because he wanted to know who was tutoring me. He said if I don’t score high enough when I take the test again in April, he will pay for a tutor of his choosing.” A hard determination crosses his features. “I didn’t tell him it was you. I don’t want him contacting you and interfering.”

“It’s just tutoring,” Charlie says quietly, confused by his reticence. “I’m not anyone special. If you want me to speak with him, you can give him—”