Texting My Hot Tutor – Text Me You Love Me Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
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“That’s how I felt about my husband when we met,” Mary murmurs. “He felt the same. Sometimes, you just know. But the difference is, he wasn’t a student of mine. Nor was I one of his. It complicates things. I know you’d never boast, but the fact is, the students here need you. You’ve done so much good. You’re a patient tutor. You always put in the extra work. Second Chance would be far worse without you.”

I sigh, leaning back. “Thanks, Mary. But I’m not sure what else to do. This can only go on for so long.”

“Could you slow it down a tiny bit?” Mary asks.

“I thought you were going to tell me to stop.”

“It’s clear to me that would be a pointless step. But if you could slow it down, maybe you could get some perspective.”

“Perspective as in…,” I shake my head. “As in, I might stop feeling this way?”

“I know it’s hypocritical of me,” Mary says. “What you’re describing, it’s exactly how I felt when I met Jaime, but often, infatuation does pass.”

I grin tightly, more like I’m baring my teeth. “That’s not what this is. But you might be right. Maybe slowing it down will give us time to think.”

And give me time, I think, but don’t say…to figure out how to tell Della just how much she means to me.

That’s if I can slow this down, which feels like a warped joke at best.

CHAPTER 13

Della

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, kissing up my collarbone, to my neck, warm imprints of passion that have me shivering all over.

My pussy aches with wetness as he glides deep, pushing all the way in.

There’s no pain, no discomfort, no anxiety.

Just this moment, his hard body pressed against mine as I slide my hands around his body, my fingers squeezing tight against his solid back muscles. He snarls in pleasure, his breath moving over my skin, and thrusts in deeper and harder.

My passion makes me guide my hips, sliding down his length, then he gets faster, fucking me so hard and fast that the headboard starts slamming.

We’re in my bedroom.

But I don’t have a headboard.

Bang-bang-bang.

It keeps doing it anyway.

I sit up, gasping, body coated in sweat. Sleep, the dream, it begins to slip away from me.

The banging comes from one of the other apartments, a pounding through the walls. Somebody is having a party.

My bedroom is far darker than it was when I came in here to set my textbooks down. Then the bed beckoned, and I collapsed into it, telling myself it would be for two minutes. I even set the alarm, but I must’ve half-woken and sleepily turned it off.

I rub the sleep from my eyes, leaning against the cold wall, my body feeling sore from the sex with Eli… even if it was only in a dream.

The details are already beginning to leave me, but there’s the general feeling I’m missing out on something, on him.

Grabbing my phone, I read the text from Hudson.

He’s going to be getting home around midnight, he tells me. It’s five now, meaning I’ve been sleeping for way too long, three or four hours.

I’ve got the restaurant tomorrow. I was supposed to study today.

I groan, telling myself it doesn’t mean I’m a failure, even as her voice hisses in my mind.

But then I check my other text notification.

It’s from Eli.

I hope studying is going well, my dedicated Della.

I bite down, the notion that I’ve failed by collapsing into an hours-long nap getting even sharper.

Maybe it’s sharing it with Eli, but I’ve been thinking about Jess more this past day than usual. I remember what I’d do if she asked me a question like this…I’d lie, telling her I did great, not willing to endure the bull crap she’d sling my way.

But I’m not a kid anymore.

And I think, hope, and pray Eli truly cares.

He shared all that stuff about his mom, telling me I’m the only woman he wants…the one he’s choosing, not all the others who have undoubtedly thrown themselves at him over the years.

How could women not throw themselves at him?

He’s ripped, talented, intelligent, and all the things a woman could ever want.

And he’s mine.

Not great, I text. I’ve just woken up from an unplanned nap. I'm feeling pretty crappy about it since I was supposed to get some studying done today. I’m at the restaurant all day tomorrow, so I doubt I’ll get any studying done then.

If I was texting a man my age, I’d expect a delay to this message. I learned all about that in high school, and Hudson has mentioned a few of his friends using those tactics.

“They say if she hasn’t texted back for six hours, you have to wait seven. I honestly can’t be bothered with head games like that.”

Eli texts back after a minute.

You probably needed the sleep, beautiful. What is it you said to me earlier? Don’t be so hard on yourself.



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