“You’re going to need it to look good on your transcript at least, especially if you want to go to college.” Even as I point that out, I cringe inwardly. Math isn’t my forte, and I can’t really help her with advanced algebra homework. What’s going to happen is she and I will struggle through it and eventually have a somewhat less vague idea about how it’s supposed to work.
Nonny wrinkles her nose, and Elliot taps the tip with his index finger. “Your sister’s absolutely correct. Let me take a look. Maybe I can help.”
“Really?” She shoots a quick look my way. “Is that okay?”
He turns his head toward me. A small frown on his face pops up, then vanishes. “If you’d rather do it, I can get the dishes.”
“No, it’s fine.” He’s the genius who made his fortune when he was barely twenty-one. I’m only going to look silly as I fumble through the textbook. I flush and actually shuffle my feet a bit. “I’ll clean up.”
I gather the plates and take them into the kitchen. Nonny pulls out her textbook, and Elliot moves over to sit next to her. It’s a little surreal to see them with their heads so close together.
Nonny isn’t terrible at math, but her teacher this year isn’t all that good at explaining concepts. It doesn’t help that she turns to me to explain things that neither of us really understand. It’s been another source of frustration.
I watch them work on a problem. Smart people who get it quickly and naturally can be impatient and even unkind to those who aren’t as gifted as they are. Elliot probably never had to tutor kids for spending money.
“You’ve almost got the idea, but when you have variables laid out like this, you want to move things around so that almost everything is on one side of the equals sign. Then you isolate one variable and you can solve for it. Like this.” There’s a pause as he makes rapid marks on a piece of scratch paper. “See? So, here are the steps…”
Elliot’s calm, confident voice washes over me. He watches Nonny work on a problem, then corrects her and explains why it isn’t right and how she can avoid making the same error next time. She nods and jots down some notes.
Her algebra teacher usually assigns about twenty problems for homework, and Elliot works through all of them with my sister, painstakingly checking her work and praising her when she’s done well. A bright smile lights her face, and a pang reverberates through me, followed by a warmth that seeps all the way to my bones.
He isn’t supposed to be this damn sweet. He’s supposed to be the arrogant, entitled prick who ordered me to get on my knees to suck him off and called someone else’s name out while climaxing inside me. He’s supposed to be the heartless jerk I’m giving my body to for a year so that I can have money—a sum that will provide me with a means to get rid of Mr. Grayson and exercise control over my own destiny.
I can’t deal with this sweet, patient fellow who’s helping my sister with her homework—and doing a better job of it than I could. He’s already probably ruined me for sex with other men. I don’t want to long for more…spending evenings cuddling and watching movies, or walking along a beach holding hands… How ridiculous to even entertain the fantasy, given that we’ll be through with each other in a year?
He tilts his head, then looks over his shoulder as though he’s sensed my eyes on him. Our gazes lock, and my heart thuds with a crazy, erratic beat that inexplicably hurts.
Nonny’s touch on his arm has him tearing his gaze from mine, and then he’s explaining some new point.
I lower my head and quickly flee the scene before any more of it can get to me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Annabelle
I shower, then put on a decadently sheer nightgown from the closet. It’s made of more lace than silk and reaches mid-thigh. Its emerald color deepens my eyes and the low cut showcases the swell of my breasts.
I climb into bed, pulling the sheet to my collarbones and read on my phone. I downloaded a free romance novel last week, and I’m going to see if it’s distracting enough to help me relax.
The story is surprisingly riveting. The firefighter hero is seriously hot, with a gorgeous body and incredible bedroom skills. He makes the heroine come so hard she almost loses her mind. A couple of days ago I would’ve shaken my head at the author’s literary license and thought, Well, we can’t have a hero who isn’t a bedroom fantasy, can we?
But now it’s different.
I know what a skilled man can do with a woman’s body. How he can bring it to an orgasm so powerful the pleasure borders on pain.
My breasts grow heavy, more sensitive with the memory. A familiar heat pools in my core as a tingling sensation sweeps over me. My nipples ache, and my breath goes shallow.
The emptiness between my legs throbs. I roll to my side, trying to get more comfortable, but my skin prickles with need.
Giving up, I lie back, my eyes closed, the phone clutched in my out-flung hand. The firefighter in the book takes the heroine from behind while she’s on her hands and knees. What would it be like to have Elliot like that, all wild and uncontrolled? Heat rises to my cheeks, and I bite my lower lip to suppress a moan.
Awareness tickles my senses before my brain registers Elliot’s presence in the bedroom. I keep my eyes closed as though I can lessen the impact of his nearness by not seeing him.
There is a featherlight touch along my jawline. I shiver.
“What’s giving you that look?” he whispers, his breath fanning my skin.
“Nothing,” I say finally, not willing to tell him what I’ve been fantasizing about.