G-Men: The Series (58 page)

My grandparents had a lot of friends and social connections in Indianapolis. Mom felt that Grandma would likely want to stay there, for the time being, anyway.

I finished up with Bryce and took him out to the family room where his play area was located. He was great about entertaining himself, especially with the new batch of toys that Santa Claus had delivered. I sat with him and we started putting a puzzle together when I heard Slate come in through the garage.

“Yo, Lindsey,” he bellowed.

He could be so loud at times.

“I’m back in the family room with Bryce,” I called out to him.

Bryce had immediately recognized Slate’s voice. He was on his feet in a second, toddling out to greet him.

“We’ve got one more for dinner,” Slate called from the hallway now.

I got up to follow Bryce to the hallway. Slate scooped him up high in the air, causing the baby to squeal with delight. I had to laugh at how cute they were together. I looked past Slate and saw Taz coming through the front door. His eyes immediately went to mine and held.

“Oh. Hey, Taz,” I said, as nonchalantly as I could muster.

My heart did a tiny pitter-pat when I saw him. Damn, he always looked hot, no matter what he wore or how disheveled he looked.

“Lindsey,” he nodded.

“I invited Taz to join us for dinner. We’re going to kick back later and watch the game.”

“No problem,” I said with a smile. “There’s plenty, that’s for sure. I’ll just set another place.”

I quickly left to go back to the kitchen. I hadn’t expected him to have that much of an effect on me.

I hadn’t stopped thinking about the morning he’d made love to me. I’d played it over and over again in my mind. I’d even given myself a sweet little orgasm to the memory of it a couple of times.

I set the extra place. The timer went off for the garlic bread. I quickly removed it from the oven, managing to burn one of my fingers in the process. Damn! I needed to focus on other things besides Taz.

Dinner was cordial. The conversation centered around Slate’s wondering when the hell Mom would be back, how the Knicks were playing so far in the season, and what new words Bryce had learned since Taz had last seen him.

“The lasagna was great, Lindsey,” Slate said after his third helping. “You’re going to make some lucky guy a wonderful wife someday.”

“You didn’t just say that, right?” I asked, getting up and starting to clear. “I swear, as much as you think you’ve got your cool on, you come up with some pretty lame stuff at times.”

“Hey, it was supposed to be a compliment,” he replied, giving me a wink.

“Lindsey, it was great,” Taz said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. See, Slate, that’s a compliment. I think you could learn some things from Taz.”

I didn’t realize how that came out until it was too late. I immediately felt my face turn crimson. I looked over at Taz and saw the amusement in his eyes.

“Learn from
Taz
? I don’t
think
so,” Slate laughed.

Bryce was over by Slate’s chair, holding his arms up, starting to whine.

“Hey Linds, tell you what. I’ll get Bryce ready for bed if you’ll clean up the kitchen.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re too good to me.”

“I’ll help you Lindsey,” Taz volunteered.

Slate went off to the nursery to get Bryce changed and ready for bed. I started scraping and rinsing the dishes while Taz finished clearing.

“So, how have you been?” he asked, as I started loading the dishwasher.

“I’ve been good. Kind of anxious to get back to school after all of this. How’s it going with you?”

Taz didn’t have a chance to answer me before my new phone vibrated on the counter.

“Hold that thought,” I said, picking it up. It was Kyzer.

“Hey Kyzer,” I said, “What’s going on?”

I heard a soft mumble from Taz, as he took up where I left off rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher.

“Just wondering what you were up to,” Kyzer said from his end.

“Not much. Just finished dinner and cleaning up. Bryce wore me out today.”

We made small talk for a couple of minutes before I told Kyzer I’d call him back later. Taz was getting so loud with banging the pots and pans around in the sink, I could barely hear what Kyzer was saying at the other end.

I rinsed the last of the silverware, bending down to place it in the basket inside the machine. “There,” I said, straightening back up and latching the door to the dishwasher. “That should do it.”

As soon as I turned, I bumped into Taz. He was right there, inches away.

I looked up questioningly at him. His eyes darkened as they gazed into mine. Before I knew what was happening, he pulled me to him and lowered his lips to mine.

I knew this was dangerous territory. Slate could walk back in at any moment. Taz didn’t seem to care, and neither did I. I laced my arms around him and kissed him back, loving once again the feel of his lips working mine. His hands were rubbing my backside, as if he was feeling me for the first time.

I finally pulled away, kissing his lips softly before I did.

“Lindsey,” he said quietly, “I was wondering if maybe you were ready for your next lesson?”

I immediately felt the butterflies surge deep within my belly. Was he serious? I contemplated it only for a moment.

“I may be amenable to that. No strings?”

“Absolutely no strings. You know the drill.”

I smiled up at him. “I suppose I’m ready for my next lesson. When and where is it to be held, Professor Matthews?”

I was totally getting turned on by the idea of playing the role of ardent student to my personal educator.

“My place tonight around 10 p.m. I’ll tell Slate at halftime I need to crash early.”

“Okay. See you then, professor.”

^{chapter 19}

I hollered out to Slate around 10:30 p.m. that I was going out with Darcy for a while.

He responded with the obligatory, “Okay, be careful.”

I hurried out the door before he had a chance to see what I was wearing.

I’d taken a luxurious bubble bath after making the arrangements with Taz. I’d then invaded Mom’s spare closet upstairs that held all of the clothes she’d moved from Indy that were either mine or hers. We hadn’t gone through them yet.

I was delighted when I found what I was looking for. It was a dark maroon and navy plaid skirt with pleats in the front. I’d purchased it a couple of years ago when Daddy had taken me to Chicago on one of his trips.

I pulled the dark maroon pullover sweater out of the closet that went with it. I dug through the box marked “Misc Lindsey’s Room” on the floor of the closet, finding all sorts of T-shirts and socks.

I even found Robespierre, my cherished stuffed poodle that Daddy had brought home for me from Paris. He’d been there on business for a couple of weeks when I was nine or ten years old.

I’d slept with that stuffed animal from the time he gave it to me until I went off to college. I cuddled it to me, thinking it was the closest bond I had with my father these days. I left it out. It belonged on my bed back at the apartment.

I continued rooting through the box and finally located the pair of maroon tights I’d worn with the ensemble. Perfect. I took the tights along with Robespierre back to my room.

I dressed in the outfit, making sure that I put sexy underwear on underneath. I put a pair of short, black leather boots on with it.

I’d been letting my hair grow out. It still had a ton of layers, so I gathered the hair at the crown, which was now long enough to pull up into a little ponytail sprout. I brushed a thin layer of bangs down on my forehead.

I’d applied some eye make-up and blush. I looked wholesome. I looked like some parochial school girl up to no good, which was kind of close to the truth, given my lack of experience.

I drove the twenty minutes to Taz’s place, feeling excited and anxious at the same time. I was curious as to what our second lesson would entail. At any rate, I was sure it would be pure pleasure.

I reached his porch. He’d left the porch light on for me. I pressed his doorbell and, in a matter of seconds, he opened the door. His eyes immediately perused the whole length of me and I could see he was a bit puzzled by my appearance.

“I’m here for my lesson, Professor Matthews.”

He totally got it then. He knew I was role-playing and a slow grin spread across his face. I knew he was into it.

He opened the door for me. “Come in, Ms. Dennison,” he replied. “Right on time. I like that.”

He helped me off with my jacket, tossing it over on the sofa.

“May I offer you some refreshments before our lesson begins?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a glass of wine, Professor.”

“Have a seat,” he gestured. “I’ll be right back.”

I took a seat on his sofa, crossing my legs and pulling my skirt down as much as I could with its short length, to ensure I was prim and proper. I clasped my hands in my lap.

He returned momentarily with two glasses of wine. I accepted the glass he offered, murmuring my thanks. He took a seat next to me. He raised his glass of wine up, tapping mine.

“Here’s to continuing education,” he said softly, giving me a dazzling, sexy smile.

“Cheers,” I replied.

We both sipped our wine in silence. His arm had moved over to rest against my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. It felt so good to have Taz wrapped around me.

I leaned in against him, loving the warmth of the wine and the headiness of being close. He gently took my glass from me, setting it on the coffee table. He was silent as he took me by the hand and led me to his bedroom.

He’d lit the aromatherapy candles. The musky scent of them permeated the room. The soft music was sensual, as was everything else he’d arranged.

He pulled me to him and lowered his mouth to my lips, his tongue tracing the top and bottom, then parting them to allow his tongue to explore. I melted into him, my tongue now dancing with his in perfect rhythm.

“Umm,” I said, “It’s a good thing we both had garlic this evening.”

Taz pulled back and laughed. “I was thinking the very same thing. I gargled like three times.”

“Me too,” I admitted. “Let’s proceed with my lesson, Professor.”

“Of course, Ms. Dennison. First, we need some erotic visuals. I need something to make my cock stand on end. I want you to undress for me, but I want you to take your time in doing so. Any questions?”

“I understand,” I replied, kicking my boots off first.

Taz reclined on his elbows, lying across his bed watching me. He was wearing a pair of grey drawstring sweats and a wife beater tee. His muscles were bulging as his weight was supported by his arms. It was hot.

My fingers lifted the bottom of the sweater, pulling it slowly up and over my head. I let it drop to the floor. I then unzipped the side zipper of my skirt, and shimmied it down over my hips, where it fell into a heap on my feet. I stepped out of it, kicking it aside.

I hooked both thumbs into the waistband of my tights and lowered them down, praying my thong wouldn’t go with them and kill the erotic mood. It didn’t. I stepped out of my tights, now standing before him in my black lacy push-up bra, and matching thong.

“More?” I questioned.

“Take your bra off first,” he instructed.

It was a front closure so I unhooked the clasp, shrugging free of it.

“Very nice,” he said softly. “Now I want you to take your hands and very slowly, very gently, I want you to massage your breasts. I want you to bring your nipples to erection without touching them. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I replied.

I cupped my breasts with my hands, moving them slowly around underneath, allowing my thumbs to massage each side in a circular motion. My fingers then massaged the front parts, beneath the nipples firmly and methodically. My nipples grew taught and erect.

“Very good,” he said. “Now you may touch and play with your nipples.”

I did as instructed, noting the very nice tingling sensation my own fingers were causing. I rolled each nipple between my thumb and forefinger, drawing it out.

Taz had one leg bent on the bed, his forearm resting on his knee. His other leg was stretched out. I could see the stiff erection he had going.

“I want you to lower your panties down and off,” he instructed huskily.

Once again, I did as I was told, stepping out of them, standing totally naked to his smoldering gaze.

“Put your fingers in your mouth and get them nice and wet.”

I complied.

“Now, take your fingers and spread the lips of your pussy apart. That’s right,” he said, watching me closely. “Ply the folds with your fingers and lightly rub the hood over your clitoris.”

I did as he said; feeling little sparks of pleasure unfold.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” I answered truthfully.

“That’s a good girl,” he soothed.

“Don’t stop what you’re doing with your right hand, Ms. Dennison, but with your left hand, I want you to put your thumb in your bellybutton.”

He’s not serious!

I hesitated, hoping like hell this wasn’t some sort of joke he was playing.