Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
That reminds me to behave professionally, and I write, What problem do you need help with?
She sends it to me, and I reply with a step-by-step guide on how she can solve it. Let me know if you encounter any issues along the way.
I will, she replies. Thank you. It means a lot.
It’s my job, I type, then delete it.
I’d do anything for you, Della. I type…then delete it.
I’m here if you need anything, I finally send.
Anything? she replies. What if I want you to take the test for me?
I smirk again. They might be shocked if I show up in your place, but we can try.
Again, the niggling feeling touches me, telling me I’ve gone too far.
Haha, I’d love to see that, Elias. Maybe we should do it just to see their faces.
It’s a deal, I reply, dropping onto the couch, staring at my phone, and seeing through it…seeing my woman lying on my bed, her hair messy from the sex we’ve just had, her body flushed red with contentment and another wave of lust.
That’s what I see, this fantasy, instead of the phone in my hand.
I should go now, she texts.
Okay. Let me know if you need anything else, Della.
I will, Elias. Thank you.
Scrolling through the texts, I try to imagine how Jocelyn would react if she read these. I haven’t said anything inappropriate…yet.
We’ve had some banter, nothing more than any tutor might have with a student.
But that doesn’t stop me from reading significance into every message, hoping she feels the same, knowing there’s no way she realistically can.
CHAPTER 5
Della
As I ride the bus, I grip my phone tightly in my hand.
This morning, I woke with the most overwhelming desire to text Elias again.
There was nothing steamy or romantic about our messages yesterday, but that didn’t stop me from reading extra meaning into them. My body tingled all over when he said I could call him Elias, my sex giving a pulse as though telling me to find him, to make something happen.
Not that I’d know how to do that. Or what to do.
But this neediness within doesn’t care about that.
I close my eyes and sit back, ignoring the ache in my body. A little whispering voice tells me I’m too tired, too sore.
I can’t keep working and going to college.
That’s because you’re lazy. You always have been. It’s a fact.
The crackle of flames follows the sick words, and I snap my eyes open, reminding myself I’m here, not back there.
The memories can’t drag me down. I won’t let them.
After ten minutes or so, the bus gets closer and closer to the school and my phone buzzes.
My mouth actually falls open when I stare at the screen.
It’s Elias…I changed his name in my contacts when he told me to use his first name.
It was so difficult in the cafeteria, not to look at him, to stare over where he was sitting with Mary.
But it’s just as difficult to believe he’d text me first.
Fine, it’s about college, but still.
How did you get on with the problem?
Not bad, I reply. I completed half your steps, but I fell asleep. I’m going to do more later.
You don’t need to push too hard, he sends. Remember, math is only a small part of your course.
I bite down, a shimmering in my chest. The rising anxiety is familiar, but even as part of my mind notes this, the rest collapses into the hole it opens inside of me.
My thumbs move quickly across the keyboard. I’m sorry if I’m taking up too much of your time.
It’s not that, Della, he replies a second later. So you don’t have to apologize. I want to give you my time.
I smile, shaking my head at the old habit, jumping to self-hating conclusions before there’s any need to.
Maybe that’s progress, the fact I’m noticing it in myself.
If you need one-on-one help, you’re always welcome in my office, too, he sends.
I look out the window, but I don’t see the passing streets, the cars, or the people. I see Elias sitting behind his desk, huge and muscular, his silver hair glinting in the electronic lights as he stares firmly at me.
I see him stand up and walk around the desk, looking over me, then he reaches down and grabs my hips, pulling me to my feet, pulling me right up against him. My body heats up as I imagine the feeling of his manhood, his muscles, his close protectiveness.
But he’s just talking about math, obviously.
That might be helpful, I respond, feeling a strong pull to be with him, even as it makes me think of all the ways I could embarrass myself.
Let me know, he texts. It would be nice to see you.
Nice, how? I write. Nice, like you want to kiss me, Elias? Like you want to take this further?