Private Lessons. Donna Hill

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Private Lessons - Donna Hill Mills & Boon Kimani

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what about you? What do you do in sunny Florida?”

      She swallowed through her suddenly dry throat. She’d already started this off on a lie. How could she say something different now? This was crazy. She should have never listened to Alexis. “I work at a bookstore and take classes at night,” she blurted out, surprising herself with the ease of the flow. Must come from years of reading fiction, she thought in the back of her head.

      “You keep surprising me,” he said. “Which bookstore?”

      “Uh, Greenlight Books. It’s one of the small independent stores.”

      “And you said you were going to school. What courses are you taking?”

      “African-American studies.” At least that was something she could talk about with some confidence.

      “That was my major in college.”

      “Really?” She leaned forward, ready to immerse herself in her favorite subject.

      Before they realized it, several hours, along with a couple of drinks, had passed, the crowd had thinned and the waiter was bringing the bill.

      Brice looked around. “Wow, where’d everybody go?” he joked.

      Naomi became instantly flustered. She reached for her purse and knocked it onto the floor. They both reached for it at the same time and bumped heads. Jerking back and holding their foreheads, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

      Brice handed Naomi her purse. “Sorry about that,” he chuckled. “Are you okay?”

      “I’m perfectly fine. Nothing that a little brain surgery won’t cure.”

      “Ahhh, the lady has jokes.” He stood and extended his hand to her. “How about we walk off this food and those drinks.”

      “Sure.” She took his hand, and when his long, strong fingers wrapped around hers something warm, then hot, then electrifying scurried up her arm and shot through her body.

      “You okay?”

      Brice was peering down into her face, his brow wrinkled with concern.

      Naomi blinked and took a breath. “Yes. I’m fine.”

      “Oh, I thought I heard you moan. I want to be ready if I need to sweep you off your feet and carry you to your room.” He grinned devilishly and pretended to flex his muscles.

      For a moment she saw herself nestled in his arms, her head pressed into the curve of his neck, inhaling that alluring scent of his as he strode across the beach, up to her room, where he would kick down the door and the music would play and it would all go black.

      She’d obviously lost her mind. No more rum punch.

      She gave her head a little shake. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” she said, forcing her head to clear. “Ready?”

      “After you.”

      Naomi led the way out, with Brice no less than a step behind her. His gaze trailed up and down her body, envisioning the curves, appreciating the understated but mesmerizing sway of her hips and the way the silk of her hair fell in soft wisps around the back of her neck, tempting him to touch them, run them through his fingers. It was a good thing he wasn’t going to be in Antigua for long. He could easily see himself wanting to get seriously involved with a woman like Naomi Clarke. But they lived worlds apart, and if things worked out for him the way he hoped and planned, he wouldn’t have the time needed to devote to a relationship. He took in her profile, set against the purple night sky, sprinkled with the white light of the stars and quarter moon, and he wished that things could be different.

      They strolled along the beach, away from the hotel, and walked closer to the water. Naomi took off her shoes and felt oddly liberated and daring as she let the water and sand wash over her feet and seep between her toes. She giggled at the sensation, and Brice became intrigued by her joy at something so simple. Most of the women he knew would look at the experience as an annoyance, something to mess up their pedicure. A halo of a smile curved his mouth.

      “How is it teaching high school kids?” Naomi asked, turning to look at him with a wide-eyed expression.

      “It has its moments.” He chuckled lightly. “It’s not so much the subject matter, it’s more about seeing that bulb go off over their heads when they ‘get it.’ I teach in a really tough neighborhood in Harlem. Most of those kids are from broken homes, belong to gangs, have all kinds of havoc going on at home. A couple of my female students already have children. For most of them, their lives are on probation before they even get a chance.”

      Naomi heard the pain and the passion in his voice. He really cared. He wasn’t just saying words to impress her. She knew exactly what he meant about that light bulb going off. And she so wanted to share with him her own experiences, give him some encouragement, but it was too late now. She’d already set off on a path of no return.

      Instinctively, she took his hand and squeezed it. He turned to look at her. A hot jolt of electric current shot between them, shocking them both.

      Brice stopped walking. His eyes grazed her face in a tender caress. Naomi felt a pulse begin to beat between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it was tumbling around in her chest as she watched his face come closer to hers, until his image blurred and his warm lips brushed against hers.

      She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. The instant was so perfect as to be surreal.

      Brice pressed a tiny bit closer. The overwhelming craving to taste the full sweetness of her mouth had his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her closer. That only made this sudden, driving desire more urgent when he felt her body glide against his and his erection bloom hard and full.

      He groaned deep in his throat as her lips parted ever so slightly and she allowed him to run the very tip of his tongue over the inside of their wet softness.

      Brice held her and drowned himself in the lushness of her, let her essence seep through his skin and awaken sensations inside him that he’d put on the back burner. Now, with Naomi, all the jets were on full blast. What he wouldn’t give to spend real time with her. Get to know her and get to make love to her the way he was imagining.

      This was so unlike him. Women were a dime a dozen in New York. He could have his hands full if he wanted. The women he knew and had run across didn’t rock his world, make him lose perspective and think about all the things he wanted to do to them. But this woman…this Naomi Clarke was not like all the others. It was as if she had woven some kind of spell over him from the moment he set eyes on her. She stirred up a burning thirst in him, and he wasn’t going to ever be satisfied until his thirst was quenched.

      Naomi felt weak all over, and her body was on fire. From deep inside she trembled. This wasn’t her. This isn’t what she did with a virtual stranger. But she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stop and she didn’t want to. His mouth was like an irresistible gem that had to be captured and held. When his fingers pressed into her back and brought her closer, her own sighs floated into the night sky when she felt the bulge of his sex press against her.

      It had been so long since she’d felt desire, and, more importantly, desired by a man. It emboldened her. And the fictitious life that she’d created was her shield. She could hide behind it. She could be a bookseller

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