Teach Me New Tricks

by Ali Parker

  I smiled when I saw the assortment of condiments, including the mild hot sauce. I quickly found the salads in the plastic containers and pulled them out. I grabbed steak sauce and ketchup, just in case, before opening cupboards until I found his dishes. I carried everything out and set the table while he watched the steaks.

  It was all very domestic. I found myself feeling very content, like I belonged. It was a novel feeling. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall head over hills for a man I wasn’t sure I could truly have. There was a lot that needed to be said between us, but it was all heavy stuff that would ruin the mood.

  Later, I told myself. Later I would ask him if he was ready for an actual relationship. If I was the first woman he’d seen since his wife, I knew there was a good chance I was the proverbial rebound girl. I didn’t want to let my heart get involved and risk my job if he was only using me to get over his wife before he moved on.

  I would never get over something like that. I wasn’t that tough.

  Chapter 38

  Christopher

  I carried the steaks to the table, proud of the way they had turned out. Leila had done a great job setting the table and putting out just about every condiment possible. I liked that she was thinking of me and trying to make sure I had all I needed. It was very sweet.

  I watched as she cut into the steak, anxious to see what she thought. “Well?” I asked.

  She smiled, dabbing at her full lips with a napkin. “Perfect. It’s better than any restaurant I’ve ever been to.”

  “Liar,” I said with a laugh.

  “Not at all. It’s really very good.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you do a lot of cooking?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I do more than I used to.”

  “Did you have to learn, after—” she said, not completing the sentence.

  “Actually, no. I knew how to cook before I was married, but I kind of got out of practice during the marriage. She did all the cooking.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I understand.”

  “What about you? Are you a gourmet cook?”

  She burst into laughter. “I’m a gourmet eater, does that count?”

  I grinned. “I suppose it does.”

  “I can cook, but I wouldn’t call myself a great cook. My friend Kami, she’s an amazing cook, as is her mother. Although, I think technically they preferred to call themselves bakers. Nancy, Kami’s mom, owns a bakery. Kami works in the bakery on occasion.”

  “That would be a fun job. Although, I’m not sure I could handle the constant temptation.”

  She shook her head, using her fork as a way to make a point. “Both of them are skinny as rails. I hate them for it. It’s like they have some anti-sugar gene that allows them to eat all their treats without blowing up.”

  “Definitely not fair.”

  “How have your classes been going?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Fine. Not nearly as exciting and interesting as your class. I feel like I’ve been sold a bill of goods. No wonder the advisor has everyone take your class. That’s how he sucks you in. We all take your class and think all the teachers are going to be of the same high caliber just to realize they aren’t. By then, they have your money and you are stuck.”

  She looked puzzled. “That’s very sweet—I think.”

  “It is meant as a compliment. I loved your class. I really did. Not because of this, but because you really have a gift when it comes to teaching.”

  Her face lit up. “Thank you. That is really very kind.”

  “I’m serious,” I said. “I’m not just saying that. How long do you think you’ll continue to teach?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about the end of my career. It’s really just getting started.”

  “You don’t think about retirement?”

  She laughed. “I’m thirty-three. I’ve barely gotten out of school. I haven’t thought about retirement. I’m saving for that day, but if I retired now, I would only be able to live about a year before I found myself destitute.”

  “But what do you hope to do when you’re done teaching?” I pressed.

  She looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. There are professors that are still teaching, and they are in their seventies. Honestly, I love learning from the old guys. They have so much knowledge. They have wisdom that has been gained through experience and not just reading about it in textbooks. I could sit and listen to their stories all day. Most of them. Some of them are just plain old and crotchety but the majority are great people.”

  I nodded, not sure I agreed with her, but I would accept her opinion. I hoped I got the chance to learn from those professors she was talking about. We finished our meals, drinking the wine and enjoying a leisurely dinner.

  Knowing she was staying over made it easier to relax and enjoy every minute. I didn’t have to worry about her getting home. I didn’t have to think about when it was time to say goodbye. I didn’t have to think about going to bed alone. I was looking forward to a sleepover. I hoped there would be plenty more in our future.

  Together, we cleaned up the dinner dishes before retiring to the den. I lit a few candles and turned on some music. I grabbed the remote for the propane fireplace, turning it on low. It was the perfect ambiance. I pulled the throw from the back of the couch and put it over our laps as we settled in on the sofa.

  “Chris Stapleton,” she commented. “I see you’re getting right into the Texas music.”

  I chuckled. “I’ve listened to him before, but as of late, he’s on my regular playlist.

  The strums of my favorite song, Tennessee Whiskey, began to play. I grabbed the remote off the small end table and turned up the surround sound speakers hidden in the ceiling.

  “Your choice in music is perfect,” she murmured, her eyes closing as she gently swayed.

  “Thank you.”

  We listened to the song, occasionally singing the chorus together. When it was over, I turned the sound down a couple of notches and relaxed into the sofa.

  “Have you ever thought about where you might travel?” I asked her.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Still thinking about after you retire, or are you saving up for a trip somewhere?”

  She let out a long sigh. “I have thought about using one of my summer breaks to travel, but it can get expensive and I always feel like there is so much I need to do here.”

  I nodded. “I used to feel the same way. Things kind of get put into perspective when your world is turned upside down.”

  “I believe that. Do you want to travel?”

  I sipped the wine. “I do. I want to wait until after Olin graduates. I thought about going over the summer, but things between Olin and I were not in a good place. I didn’t trust him to ditch me in a foreign country and try to make it on his own.”

  She laughed. “You’re not being serious.”

  “I am being very serious. I don’t know if you’ve ever raised a teenager, but damn, they are stubborn.”

  “I haven’t raised a teen, but I was a teen once.”

  I chuckled. “True. I don’t remember being quite so difficult.”

  She scoffed. “I was horrible, at least that’s what my many foster parents told me.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Few people do. It’s not exactly something I advertise. It’s in my past and that’s where I leave all that baggage. It helped shape who I am, but it does not make me who I am.”

  I was impressed and proud. She’d done well for herself. “Good for you. Then you know what it’s like to have nothing.”

  “Yes, I do. I think I appreciate everything just a bit more because of it.”

  I immediately felt guilty about my wealth. “We started with nothing,” I said, almost defending myself.

  She put her hand on my thigh. “You’re a very humble man. I don’t begrudge your wealth. It is evident you don’t take anything for granted.”

  “Thank you.
I’m really trying to instill that same ethic into Olin, but it can get difficult. I remember when I was growing up how badly I wanted certain things. I used to get angry with my parents because they couldn’t buy me what I thought I needed. With Olin, I want to give him the world. I have to remind myself I can’t buy him everything he wants. Even if it does make him like me a little more, I can’t give in to the urge.”

  “I think you are stronger than most parents,” she said with a small laugh. “I look at the faces of the kids in my class. The ones that are sleeping through class or really just don’t give a shit, I know those are the ones that have been spoiled all their lives. They don’t care what they get out of the class. They don’t care if they pass. Their college is paid for by an indulgent parent. When I was going through school, I knew every single class, every credit counted. I couldn’t afford to be lazy or not care.”

  “Very mature,” I commented.

  “I had to grow up fast.”

  “I hope Olin doesn’t have to,” I said, not meaning it as an insult. “I want him to enjoy and appreciate being a kid. It is over too fast.”

  “That’s for sure, and I think its admirable that you are trying to do right by him. That’s impressive.”

  I hugged her close. I didn’t want to talk about Olin or our pasts that may or may not have been good. That was a conversation for another day. I had gotten a glimpse into her life and felt I knew her a little better. I understood what made her tick.

  “You’re an old soul,” I said.

  She burst into laughter. “You are not the first person to tell me that. I’m beginning to wonder if that old soul I have inside me is shining through. I’ll probably go gray prematurely and be one of the lucky ones to get sunspots and wrinkles before I’m forty.”

  “You’ll be beautiful. Aging gracefully is sexy.”

  “You’re aging like a fine wine,” she teased.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you. I decided to leave the gray. It’s part of me. I don’t have a lot of physical scars, but I like to think every one of these gray hairs is a scar or a memory.”

  She smiled, kissing my jaw. “You say the coolest things. I love hanging out with you.”

  “Good to know.”

  We settled in again, listening to the crackling of the logs. It wasn’t exactly the real thing, but it was pretty damn close, and it was a hell of a lot easier than chopping wood.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “What?”

  I chuckled, realizing my internal thoughts were just that—internal. “Sorry, I was thinking about traveling. Where would you like to travel to? If you could go anywhere, where would you like to go?”

  She looked thoughtful. “Is this a hypothetical that includes you?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  She nibbled at her bottom lip. “I’d love to travel to your bedroom.”

  I smiled. “That’s a trip I can make happen.”

  I threw off the blanket and got to my feet, reaching down to pull her up. I left both our wine glasses on the table and led her upstairs to my room. We had all night and I wanted to take advantage of every minute. The last two times we’d been together, it had been rushed. I wasn’t rushing anything.

  I dimmed the lights, hit the button for the fireplace in the room and turned back to look at her. She was smiling, the warm glow of the fireplace casting her a soft light. She’d never looked more beautiful.

  “I think I might have to get one of these fireplaces in my place,” she said.

  I nodded. “They are definitely handy,” I agreed. “I want you naked,” I said on a breath.

  Her lips parted. “Oh.”

  “Naked. Now. Please.”

  She held my gaze before making the first move to undress herself. I watched with rapt attention. I encouraged her to keep stripping, letting her know with my eyes how beautiful she was. She reached up to unclasp the front-close bra. I held my breath, watching for the moment her breasts spilled free.

  I groaned, my head dropping back as I thanked my lucky stars for having a woman like her in my bedroom.

  Chapter 39

  Leila

  Standing naked before a man like Christopher was probably my biggest fear, but I wasn’t afraid. I felt daring and sexy and like I could conquer the world. His eyes devoured me. With every heated look I felt even sexier.

  “Are you going to let me see the goods or am I going to have to strip you myself?” I asked in a husky voice.

  He slowly shook his head, reaching down to pull off his shirt. I watched, feeling like I was front row at my own personal Thunder from Down Under show. He didn’t stop until he was completely naked. My eyes roamed over his naked body. Damn. He was so damn hot. I couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to get to be with him.

  “I want you.”

  I smiled. “That’s good because I’m about ready to devour you.”

  His nostrils flared. “That’s exactly what I had in mind. Sit. There.”

  I looked behind me to where he had nodded his head. An accent chair was positioned in front of the fireplace. I gulped down the nerves and anxiousness and did what he asked, delicately sitting my nude body in the chair. The warmth from the fireplace felt good against my exposed skin.

  He slowly walked towards me and without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of the chair. I leaned forward and grabbed his face with my hands and kissed him. I kissed him with all the passion I felt inside. My tongue danced with his. I leaned forward, rubbing my breasts over his chest.

  He pulled back and with one hand, pushed me backwards. My back rested against the soft fabric. He scooted closer, his hands going to my knees and opening my legs. I was immediately nervous. He pulled me forward, my butt resting on the edge of the chair.

  His head dropped between my legs, dropping one delicate kiss on my inner thigh before moving to the other. It was like a game of tag. One kiss to the right, then a kiss to the left, moving higher and higher each time. When his lips closed over my core, I gasped, dropping my head onto the back of the chair and moaning with ecstasy.

  His mouth was hot, his tongue fierce as he pushed inside me. He stroked over my clit, once and then again and again. I felt like I would burst into flames. I was so hot. I writhed in the chair, my hands gripping the armrests as his mouth worked over me.

  “Yes,” I moaned, one hand releasing the armrest and moving into his hair. I tugged at his hair, pulling him away and bringing him close as the intensity of his mouth increased.

  He made a sound. It vibrated through me sending me over the edge and directly into the waiting orgasm. I cried out; my body wracked with spasms as he drank from me.

  When the world stopped spinning and I could think straight, I leaned forward, looking into the face of the man who was making me absolutely crazy. I didn’t feel the least bit vulnerable. My naked body didn’t make me feel insecure.

  “My turn,” I whispered pointing to the other chair.

  “Leila, we don’t need to,” he said.

  I shook my head. “I want to. Sit.”

  He got to his feet before taking a seat in the chair. I dropped to my knees in front of him and reached for him. I lapped at the head before sliding my tongue down the full length of his swollen cock and then coming up the other side. He groaned, his head dropping back and his hand threading through my hair.

  I bobbed my mouth up and down, sucking hard before lapping at the moisture my ministrations produced. I moaned, the sound vibrating around his dick. His fingers massaged my scalp, holding me close to him. I continued to lavish him with my mouth until he reached a point he couldn’t take anymore.

  “Up, please God, get up,” he growled. “Bed.”

  I got to my feet, my legs shaking as I walked the few steps to his bed. I was feeling brave and adventurous. I crawled on the bed, staying on all fours before turning to look at him over my shoulder. He’d been watching me with that dangerous look of desire. The look of unadulterated passion on his face had me explodi
ng in wet heat once again.

  He climbed behind me, wasting no time in bringing himself to my core. With one solid thrust, he implanted his cock inside me. The invasion was powerful and forceful, bringing me to a fast orgasm I had been wholly unprepared for.

  “Oh shit, again?” he whispered, reaching around and squeezing my hanging breasts. He tweaked my nipples tugging and squeezing and drawing out the orgasm as my body squeezed hard around him.

  “God, you make me feel so good,” I groaned. “I can’t stop.”

  “You do things to my body that should be illegal,” he rasped, releasing my breasts and putting his hands on my hips as he slowly moved in and out of my body.

  Every stroke brushed over raw nerve endings. I whimpered. The assault on my nerve endings felt too good. I couldn’t process it all. I never knew it was possible to feel too good, but in that moment, I knew what it was like.

  “More,” I heard myself say.

  “I’ll give you everything,” he answered sounding pained.

  He rocked inside me, pushing hard and deep with every thrust. I curled my fists into the comforter, holding on as he rode me fast and hard. My breasts bounced with every thrust. He was a man on a mission. He let go of all that control he usually wielded. I held on with all my might, pushing back to keep from being sent flying over the edge of the bed.

  The crunchy hairs on his legs brushed against the back of my thighs. He was rubbing me in all the right places, making my body hot and achy.

  “Oh God, Christopher,” I breathed his name when I felt the third orgasm begin a slow climb.

  It was so good. It was addictive and even as I was pushed closer to the peak, all I could think about was the next time. I wanted there to be many next times. I was addicted to the man. He was turning me into a nymphomaniac. I thought about sex all the time. Not just sex—his sex. His body fit inside mine perfectly. He filled every inch and made me want more.

  “That’s it,” he whispered. “A little more. More,” he began to chant. “Let go. Flood me. Let me feel your ecstasy. Give it over, baby. That’s it.”