Chapter Two

Julie

It took a lot of courage to go to Blaine yesterday. I've been watching him for the last few weeks, admiring his devilish good looks. At night, I see his dark blue eyes and perfectly-coiffed chestnut hair in my dreams. It's honestly a surprise to me that I've maintained such high marks in the class when he's all I can think about.

I realize now that maybe I should have come up with a better reason for seeing him, but after several discussions with my coworkers, I thought tutoring would be the least obvious excuse. None of us took into account that I probably have the highest grade in the class. Judging by Blaine's reaction, he didn't buy that I needed help. Still, he agreed and I got his phone number, so it's definitely a win.

We didn't text much, but he did ask how my shift was when I got home from work last night. It made me feel all warm inside. I know my crush on him is silly considering he's older than me and also technically one of my teachers, but I can't help it. He's clearly intelligent, and we share a common interest in history.

Even though I've never been with anyone – or had a boyfriend, for that matter – I know that it takes more than attraction and one common interest to have a successful relationship. That's the reason that I want to get to know him better.

It might be naive, but I think we might have a chance. Sure, we've only had a few conversations and all of them have been about the class, but he's endlessly interesting. Plus, his voice is like hot coffee. It warms me from the inside and gives me the boost I need to do whatever the day has in store for me.

After my classes wrapped up today, I headed home with a renewed spring in my step. Now, I'm standing in the middle of my bedroom with half of my closet spread out on my bed in front of me. We're only going to be going over the newest material, but I want to dress to impress.

I end up calling Nicole, my coworker who slowly became one of my best friends, for advice. After a short video call where we decide on baby blue sundress and a white cardigan, I'm satisfied with what I'm wearing. I head to my bathroom and put on just a little bit of makeup. I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard, but this is all about putting my best foot forward.

Once I'm ready, I sit around waiting until it's time for me to leave. I take deep breaths, doing my best to quell my nerves. What if he sees right through me? I don't know if I can take that embarrassment.

Finally, it's time to go, so I grab my bag and head to the bus stop. The ride to Blaine's apartment is short, which is good considering how packed the bus is. Apparently, I got on at the same time as a bulk of students are trying to get off campus.

The complex Blaine lives in is modest. There are ten apartments, five on the ground floor and five right on top. Blaine's is on the right corner of the second floor. There's a plain mat on the ground outside, and a Christmas wreath still hanging on the door months after the holiday is over.

He answers almost immediately after I knock. My heart pounds in my chest now that I'm looking at him face to face. His hair is a little damp, strands of it sticking to his forehead, and I can smell his spicy, earthy shower gel. I wonder if he just got back from the gym. He is a fairly well-built man, so it would make sense if he used some of his spare time lifting weights.

"Hey," he says, his voice washing over me. "Right on time."

"I wanted to be punctual," I say, gripping the strap of my backpack nervously.

"Makes sense," Blaine replies, stepping back and gesturing for me to come into the apartment. "It seems like you take your studies pretty seriously."

"I do," I say as I take in the mismatched, eclectic collection of furniture. Everything looks secondhand, but somehow, if taken as a whole instead of just its parts, seems like a complete collection. "I have a scholarship to keep, after all."

"Strange that you don't have a full ride," he says, closing the door and leading me to the kitchen. "I might not be allowed to say this, but in our class at least, you have the highest marks. This school is crazy for not funding your entire education."

"Oh, I do. The scholarship I got covers just about everything I need," I say, pulling my notes out of my backpack.

"So are you just working at Lucky's for extra cash?"

I shrug. "Not exactly. My dad was just really particular about me getting a job. He said a full ride is no excuse to be lazy."

He snorts, looking me over. "Lazy? Has he even met you?"

His eyes on me make me shy. I tuck my hair behind my ear and say, "He has some... high standards." It's a massive understatement, but he doesn't need to know just how crazy my parents are.

His face is all hard lines and angles, so I'm surprised by how much his expression softens. "I've been there. My parents are the same way. I can't begin to tell you how disappointed they are."

"In you? But you're in grad school." How could anyone not be impressed by Blaine? He's one of the smartest people I've ever met. I'd listen to him over most of my professors in a heartbeat.

"Grad school, not medical school," he explains with a smile. "They're both doctors. They figured I'd follow their lead."

"Is there a reason you didn't?" I blush when he raises an eyebrow at me. "It just seems like you would make a really good doctor." With his capable, comforting presence, I could see him being fantastic with patients. Plus, he would look pretty good in a white coat.

He's quiet for a moment. "I guess it just... never held my interest." He chuckles softly and says, "That probably sounds pretty selfish, choosing history over medicine."

"Not at all. I think it's brave, following your passion." I blurt it out before I can even consider being embarrassed.

But if he thinks I sound silly, he doesn't show it. His piercing blue eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. "Thanks. It's nice to know you think so."

The air suddenly feels thick and heavy. Have we been sitting this close the whole time? The heat and scent of him make my head spin.

He clears his throat and starts flipping through the class textbook. "So what do you want to go over?"

"Um," I say, once again cursing myself for my short-sightedness, "maybe just the last lesson? We have another paper due at the end of the month, and I'm already kind of lost on what's going on."

"Can do," he replies, a little smirk on that handsome face. It's obvious he sees right through me, but thankfully, he doesn't call me on it.

Blaine pulls up the slides from the last lesson and starts talking me through everything. All of the information is stuff I've already known for years. Early American history is my favorite subject. When I was in high school, I devoured every single book on the founding of the country and the following years that I could get my hands on. In fact, while Blaine's going over one of the slides, he tells me the wrong date, and I can't stop myself from correcting him.

"I thought you said you were confused about this stuff," he says, giving me a curious look that makes me squirm.

"I am," I lie, knowing my words aren't confident. "I just remembered that part from class."

"Right," he says, winking at me and making it clear he knows what I'm doing. "How about we take a little break in the living room? I'll grab you a glass of water."

"That'd be great," I say as I stand and follow him.

I have no idea why I'm so nervous walking to his couch. Maybe it's the fact that there was something I couldn't quite place in his tone. Is he about to let me down? I hope he at least goes easy on me.

When he comes into the room, he places two glasses of water on the table and sits closer to me than I think is entirely necessary. I become incredibly aware of my body and the fact that I dressed myself up. I don't usually wear any makeup, so up this close, I'm sure he can tell that I'm trying harder than normal.

"You know," he says, knocking his knee against mine, getting me to look into his stormy blue eyes, "I don't think there's anything I can teach you about history that you don't already know."

"I'm not so sure about that," I say, still defending the fact that I asked for tutoring. "You're in grad school, and I'm still working on my bachelor's degree."

"I'm the one that grades your papers, and I'm confident that you have a great grasp of the subject material. I think if I gave you the final exam right now, you could pass it," he says, reaching forward to grab his glass and take a sip. After he sets the cup down again, he gives me a mischievous grin and says, "So I think there's another reason you're here today."

"W-what?" I stutter, unsure of what to say. Even if I wanted to deny the assertion, I don't have any idea how. He's right. There is another reason I'm here.

"You don't need help with this class, do you?" he asks, the question clearly rhetorical.

I freeze, not sure where this is going. My eyes go wide, and my shoulders go stiff. It doesn't sound like he's upset, but I think he might be teasing me. I'm not sure if my fragile heart can take it. I've never put myself out there like this before.

"Can I ask you something?" Blaine says gently, speaking to me like he's afraid of scaring me off.

I don't trust my voice, so I nod, maintaining eye contact as best I can.

"Have you ever dated anyone?"

I shake my head, feeling my face burning as I do.

"That makes sense," he chuckles as he reaches out to rest his hand on my knee. "But you came over because you wanted to be with me, right?"

"Yes," I say, my voice nearly a whisper when I speak.

"Have you ever had sex before?" Blaine says gently, rubbing his hand up and down my thigh.

"No," I say. "I'm a virgin."

"We'll go slow then," he says, taking his hand off of my knee and using it to cup my cheek.

When our lips connect, I feel like I must have died and gone to heaven. I almost forget to kiss him back, but I quickly remember when Blaine rubs his thumb against my cheek. I'm self-conscious of the fact that I'm inexperienced, but he doesn't seem to care.

After a few minutes of mostly-innocent kissing, his tongue presses at the seam of my lips. I open my mouth, trying to match his movements. I feel him smile against me, so even though I don't think I'm doing a good job, I can tell he doesn't care.

His hands drift down to my neck, resting there lightly as he explores my mouth. A fuzzy feeling explodes in my stomach. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe he wants me. I thought this would be harder, that even if he was interested, it would take weeks to get here. Instead, he's eagerly kissing me and giving me everything I want without even having to ask.

"How about you lie down for me?" he asks, leaving me disappointed when he pulls away. Still, I do as he asks. "That's it. You look gorgeous like that."

I wait for him to start kissing me again, and he does – but not where I'm expecting. He kisses my inner thigh right next to my knee. It's all I can do but keep from yelping in surprise. The contact feels unexpectedly good.

Spurred on by my positive reaction, he starts kissing his way up my leg. Gooseflesh raises in the wake of his mouth, and I feel my panties start to get damp. By the time he pushes up my dress, I'm sure there's a wet spot on my underwear.

"Can I take these off?" Blaine asks, sliding his fingers over the waistband.

"Yes," I say as I lift my hips to give him access.

As the fabric slides down my legs, I'm overcome by the urge to cover myself up. The look on his face stops me, though. He's staring me down, looking at my most private parts like he's a man starving and I'm his next meal. I'm terrified and exhilarated all at once.

"So pretty," he says, sliding his finger along the crease where my thigh meets my pelvic bone. My pussy quivers in anticipation, and he murmurs, "You probably taste so sweet."

I make a noise that sounds a lot like "guh" in response. My brain feels like it's melting. I have no idea what he's planning, but I'm more than ready to find out.

Blaine doesn't keep me waiting for long. It's like he's possessed, the way he dives between my legs. His mouth is hot and wet and overwhelming. His tongue prods inside of me before he brings it up to circle my clit.

When he touches the little bundle of nerves, my back arches up off of the couch. I'm consumed by a blinding flash of pleasure. Nothing, and I mean nothing , has ever felt this good. The attention makes me wonder if I'm even awake or if I'm just having the greatest dream ever.

This is actually happening, though. There's no way I could have come up with this on my own. My imagination isn't quite so colorful, and even though I've had orgasms before, nothing has felt as intense as this.

As he works me over, I become vaguely aware of the fact that I'm bucking down onto his face. The room feels loud, and I realize that the noise is me. It's like I'm so far gone on the way Blaine's mouth feels that I can't comprehend anything that's happening around me.

The familiar burn that signals my approaching orgasm starts to set in. I'm not ready for this to be over, but it doesn't seem like Blaine is going to give me much of a choice in the matter. He's eating me out like our lives depend on it, and truthfully, that feels like the case. This is the only thing that matters, that has ever mattered.

"Blaine," I manage to gasp, reaching down to grab his mostly-dry hair. "Blaine, I'm–"

He hums against me, not needing me to finish what I'm about to say. The efforts of his mouth focus on my clit, and he brings his hand up to press one finger into my opening. The additional stimulation and intense attention on the bundle of nerves is enough.

All of a sudden, I'm rocketing over the edge. My thighs clamp over his ears, and my hand tightens in his hair. My mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. It's like I can't do anything but ride out this wave, and Blaine seems intent on working me through it.

Eventually, it's too much and I whimper, "Stop," weakly as I gently tug his head backward and relax my legs.

He goes easily, smirking up at me with bright pink lips and his chin glistening with my juices. Before I'm even able to catch my breath, he's moving up the length of my body. His mouth finds mine, and I can taste myself on his tongue. The kiss is hot and sweet but doesn't last nearly long enough.

"You like that?" he asks as he pulls away, looking down at me with lust-clouded eyes.

"Yes," I say. "I liked that a lot."

"Good," he replies as he slides my panties back up my legs. "How about you finish your water, and we can go over the next assignment. I don't want to keep you too long."

"Yeah," I say as I sit up to grab my glass from the coffee table. I want to say more, but I don't know how to navigate situations like this.

"Maybe you can stop by tomorrow," he suggests, sensing my apprehension. "There's more than just the assignment that we need to go over."

"It'll have to be after I get off work."

"That's fine," he says, giving me a tight smile. "You have my number."

I'm still riding the high of my climax, but the fact that we're going right back to business leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I try to wash it down with the water, draining the glass like it's the only thing I've had to drink all week. Then I set it down, and we both go back to pretending I need help with history.