Jennifer's Lessons Read online

  Jennifer’s Lessons

  Katherine Kingston

  An ex-soldier preparing for an engineering career, Blake needs a tutor to help him catch up in his math classes. He gets more than he expected in the brilliant Jennifer. Sparks fly from the moment they meet, and though Blake suspects Jennifer can’t handle his kinky tastes, he can’t resist her. She could benefit from the discipline he offers but neither of them is sure she could live the lifestyle permanently—and anything less isn’t an option for Blake.

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Jennifer’s Lessons

  ISBN 9781419932564

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Jennifer’s Lessons Copyright 2011 Katherine Kingston

  Edited by Briana St. James

  Cover art by Dar Albert

  Electronic book publication January 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Jennifer’s Lessons

  Katherine Kingston

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  The History Channel: A&E Television Networks LLC

  Chapter One

  He was so different from the other students in the Advanced Calculus class, Jennifer couldn’t help noticing him.

  She’d scurried in at the last moment of that first day of classes and plopped down on the left side of the aisle about halfway back, then surveyed the room, waving to people she knew. Her glance slid by him at first but caught and slid back again.

  He sat near the front on the opposite side, by himself, and didn’t seem to know anyone else. He didn’t look around after a single sweeping scan of the room, didn’t glance or smile at anyone. Tall, dark and handsome, Jennifer thought, then revised the opinion to tall, dark and not exactly handsome. Maybe better than handsome. That hard, tough face with the firm mouth, straight, uncompromising nose, deep-set dark eyes and high forehead appealed to her more than if he’d had bland good looks. He was older than the other students, probably on the upper end of his twenties rather than the lower.

  His stern, almost harsh expression grabbed her in ways a pleasant smile wouldn’t have, provoking attraction that was edged with something darker. Not quite fear, but stronger than doubt. That air of coldness and danger around him touched something inside her that responded with interest.

  She considered changing seats to an empty one nearer to him, but the professor started class before she could move. The stranger answered to the name “Blake Daniels” when the roll was called. The name seemed too plain for him.

  When Professor Scott got to her name, he paused for a moment and stared at her. “Miss Jansen, I do hope you’ll permit your friends to pass or fail by their own effort this year.”

  “Yes sir,” she answered. “I will. I promise.”

  Unfortunately, a couple of the Kappas she’d hung with the previous year sat behind her. Everyone in the room heard their snickers at her answer. She felt the heat rise in her face when the entire class, Blake Daniels included, turned to her. Most people grinned. Daniels just gave her an icy stare.

  Fortunately the professor went on with calling the roll and then launched into his introduction to the course.

  When the time was up, she tried to intercept Blake on the way out of the class, but he walked by, taking no notice of her.

  Later that day, back in her dorm, she mentioned him to her suite-mates. None of them knew a Blake Daniels or had heard anything about him. Not really surprising on a campus that boasted more than eight thousand students.

  “What is it about this guy?” Verna asked. “I mean, you’ve got plenty of guys chasing you, and you don’t seem to care all that much for any of them. What’s special about this one?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “He’s good-looking but not the handsomest guy I’ve ever met. And personality-wise… I don’t really know yet. He just seems sort of hard and distant.”

  “He didn’t fall all over himself when you smiled at him.” Verna gave her a wry grin. “That makes him different from the other guys.”

  “Maybe he’s gay?” Sarah suggested.

  Jen shrugged. “Doubt it, but you never know.”

  “Married? Or committed,” Verne ventured.

  “Could be too, though he wasn’t wearing a ring. But I’m not going to go pining over him.”

  “Plans this weekend?” Lynn, the fourth member of the group, asked.

  Jen snagged her calendar from her desk. “Party with the SAEs Friday. Football game with Jay Rockwell Saturday and a party at his house that night. Study date with Sam Pennington Sunday.” Organization wasn’t her strong point, but she’d finally forced herself to write things down when she started getting times, dates and guys mixed up.

  Verna shook her head. “After three years of watching it, I still can’t figure out how you maintain those grades with your social schedule. And in math, yet.”

  “Actually math makes it easier,” Jen answered. “Not so much studying. You either get it or you don’t. Aside from a few formulas, there’s not much to memorize. Not like history where you have to keep track of all those dates.”

  Her roommates just grinned. They were all seniors now, and Jen had helped all three of them get through the university’s math requirements. They’d helped her struggle through history and French literature.

  “I’ve got to get to bed.” Verna punctuated the statement with a yawn and headed for the bathroom. The rest followed her shortly.

  For the next two weeks, Blake Daniels continued to ignore her. Jen tried to keep her eyes off him, determined not to act like a teenager with a crush. It didn’t work. She couldn’t help sneaking occasional glances. He spoke with the two guys who sat behind him every now and again, but no one else. He rarely answered when the professor threw out questions. His isolation and grim demeanor roused something even deeper than sexual attraction. It appealed to a desire or need she barely acknowledged. It was early in the semester, but she decided to watch for an opportunity to get to know him.

  Meanwhile, Jen kept up her social life, though the constant round of beer-keg blowouts, dancing and yakking about campus capers and conquests had begun to pall a while back. After three years of it, the parties and chatter were feeling hollow now. Even a bit juvenile and tiresome.

  Her life changed a week later, when Professor Scott asked her to stay after class for a minute. She did a quick mental review but couldn’t come up with anything she’d done wrong recently. She hadn’t even let the Kappas copy homework
assignments, despite their frequent pleas.

  * * * * *

  He’d asked Professor Scott for extra help, but Blake Daniels winced inwardly when the man called for “Miss Jansen” to stay after class, his gaze fixed on the cute, bleached-blonde cheerleader type he’d been trying to ignore since the beginning of the semester.

  Not her. Please. But the young woman nodded and approached the front. Blake sighed. The last thing he needed was the distracting Miss Jansen attempting to tutor him. And batting her big, green eyes at him at the same time. To her credit, she did seem to know her stuff when it came to calculus, but he’d be willing to bet she was just as expert at hooking guys. The pair that sat behind her would’ve jumped into a fiery pit if she’d asked them to.

  He refused to let his face show anything as Professor Scott introduced him to Jennifer Jansen and asked if the young woman would help Blake get up to speed with the class.

  “Of course!” Her voice had the warm, lilting tone—music edged with laughter—that had drawn him the very first time he’d heard it. A sexy, throaty undertone added to the magnetism. He had no defense against all the sweet things implicit in her voice, so his best strategy was to keep his distance.

  With one quick question, Professor Scott had breached Blake’s barriers and left him open to Jennifer Jansen’s allure. He had to rebuild the walls quickly. Someone with Jennifer’s bright, sunny nature and easy charm wasn’t for him, however much he might be interested. The darkness in his soul, the strangeness of his needs and desires would disgust her. He couldn’t bear that. Better to do what he could to keep the barrier in place, even if it half killed him as he worked more closely with her.

  Then she turned to look at him and met his gaze squarely. Her eyes were almost grass green, probably enhanced by tinted contact lenses, but there was nothing fake about the warmth and interest glowing in their depths. The hint of smile playing around her lips sent its own message of intrigue. He kept his face as blank as possible while he thanked her for agreeing to help him.

  Her smile widened as she answered. “No problem. When’s a good time to meet?” She went on to tell him her class schedule and what times would work best for her. They matched up their free times and decided on Monday and Wednesday evenings to prepare for their Tuesday and Thursday classes. He said he’d sign up for a private study room in the student center and got her email address so he could let her know the number.

  She hesitated for a moment, staring at him. All sorts of interesting possibilities lurked in those sparkling eyes. Maybe even an invitation. Did she really mean it?

  The heat rose in the room, or at least it felt like it. Sweat began to form under his collar as he stared back at her. She had beautifully clear skin with a faint dusting of freckles across her pert nose. He wanted to touch her, to see if the flesh was as soft as it looked. The pressure in his groin, which hadn’t relented since she’d first stood up, kept increasing. His cock strained painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

  Jennifer Jansen was pure sexual temptation mixed with an intriguing, joyful sweetness. How the hell was he supposed to keep his mind on calculus when she was in the room?

  * * * * *

  The following Monday, Jen approached room thirty-two in the Student Center with more than a few whirligigs dancing in her stomach. How strange was that? She hadn’t gotten nervous about a date with a new guy since freshman year. This wasn’t even a date, just a tutoring session.

  Blake was already there when she pushed open the door, waiting with books open on the desk, pencils and paper scattered around them. He looked up from the problem he was tackling and stood. His expression didn’t change, but she got the odd idea that he’d had to make an effort to keep his face so still.

  He pointed to a seat beside him. “Miss Jansen. Thanks for coming. I appreciate your help. It’s been several years since I did any calculus and I need some refreshing on it.”

  “Jen,” she answered. “Or Jennifer, if you want to be formal about it. Can I call you Blake? It seems weird to be calling each other Mister and Miss over calculus problems.”

  “Blake is fine,” he said, sitting when she did so. He paged back through the textbook and tapped on the chapter three heading. “I started having trouble right about here.”

  “You haven’t done any calculus for several years? No wonder you’re a bit lost. Were you out of school?”

  He looked down at the book. For a moment she didn’t think he’d answer, but then he said, “In the army.”

  The tone didn’t invite more questions, but she asked one anyway.

  “How long?”

  “Six years. I got out four months ago. Two deployments abroad. Iraq and Afghanistan. It wasn’t fun.” He slapped a hand down on the book. “Can we talk about calculus, please?”

  She started to make a nasty comment about manners, but stopped. He’d been sharper than necessary, but his experiences likely weren’t the sort of thing he’d want to discuss with a complete stranger. She could make allowances. “Sure,” she answered.

  For the next half hour, she went over the calculus problems with him, showing how some of the answers were obtained and referring back to the sample solutions in the book. As usual, letting the numbers and symbols and relationships flow in her mind distracted her enough that she could mostly keep her thoughts off her companion. Still, she couldn’t help absorbing details, like how dark his brown eyes were, the breadth of his shoulders beneath the polo shirt, the strength of the muscles of his arms and how inviting the graceful column of throat appeared.

  Nor did she miss how careful he was to be sure their hands didn’t touch as they discussed problems and she occasionally corrected his math. She’d planned to be sure their fingers met at least once, but when it did finally happen, it really was an accident.

  After he asked a question about a formula and how it worked in a particular context, they both reached for the pencil at the same time. She got to it first and started to pick it up. His hand brushed over hers. Sparks like little electrical charges skipped along her skin where he’d touched. They punched into her, tiny needles that sent a thrill of heat racing to her core.

  He must have felt it too, since he yanked the hand back as though he’d been burned. “Sorry,” he muttered, staring down at the pencil.

  With an effort, she kept it light. “No problem.” She continued with the pencil and demonstrated how she got the answer to the question.

  He was intelligent enough to pick up the principles quickly, but long out of practice. He still had some way to go in catching up, though, when he said he needed to go shortly after they’d touched.

  “Do you want to do it again?” she asked.

  Her heart stuck in her throat when he hesitated, and it did a quick skip when he said, “Yes. I need to pass this course.”

  “For your major?”

  “I plan to transfer into Engineering next year.”

  “You need this course for that,” she agreed. “I’m applying to the Architectural School for next year.”

  For the first time his expression changed, though so barely she might have been mistaken. But it appeared his eyebrows rose and the hard line of his mouth softened. “You’re a senior? Architecture’s pretty ambitious. But I have no doubt you can do anything you set your mind to.”

  “I hope so. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow in class and Wednesday night.” She waited for him to respond, but his expression had closed down again. He just gave a quick nod and turned to gather up his books and papers.

  Jen paused for another second or two, waiting for a response, but when it was clear nothing more was coming, she left and headed down the hall and the stairs at the end. As she exited the building and turned toward the bus stop out front, she reminded herself she had no right to be disappointed. She shouldn’t have expected anything more, not even his thanks. She’d volunteered to tutor him for totally selfish reasons, so she didn’t deserve anything more.

  Trying to convince herself took all
her attention as she crossed the quad to the bus stop. The tap on her shoulder surprised her into a startled squeal. She wheeled sharply and bumped up against Blake, who’d apparently chased after her. Her heart did a funky reeling dance in her chest when contact with his hard body sent tingling jolts along her nerves.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He steadied her, putting his hands on her upper arms. “I’m the one who owes the apologies here. I didn’t even thank you. How are you getting home? And where is it?”

  “Oh.” She drew a deep breath to calm the gymnastic butterflies tumbling in her stomach again. “I’m in Braithwait dorm. I was heading for the bus stop.”

  “Come on.” He tipped his head toward the other side of the building. “The least I can do is drive you back.”

  She hesitated, wondering what had caused this sudden change of demeanor. Not that he was smiling or anything, but he wasn’t being cold or sullen either.

  He misinterpreted her pause. “Please,” he said. “My mother really did teach me better manners than I’ve shown today. She’d be totally appalled by my behavior. You gave up a pretty significant chunk of your time today to help me out. The least I can do is take you home. My car’s parked back here.”

  “Do I get an explanation?” she asked, following through the student center and out a rear door. It was close to full dark by then, but the stairs down and the parking lot were well lit.

  He waited until they were at the bottom of the stairs to answer. “Yes, but it’s complicated. It’s more than one thing.”

  “So’s calculus, but I manage to keep it all straight.”

  “This is about human beings, and we’re nowhere near as logical and straightforward.”

  “True,” she admitted.

  Blake led the way across the parking lot to a blue Toyota that had seen more than a few good years. Once they were settled in it and he’d backed out of the space, he continued. “Some things I can’t… They’re just too personal to talk about at this point. But look, I don’t think I’m being egotistical when I say I know you’re attracted to me.”