Page 38 of Making Over Maris

“Casual is fine.”

“What are you wearing?”

Jack choked on a laugh. “Sara, are you coming on to me?”

She was silent for a moment. “I meant what are you wearing tomorrow. But…what if I was coming on to you?”

Heat speared through him at the sultry tone in her voice. “Th-that’s okay. I’d just like to know.”

Her breath resonated over the crackling line. “I liked what you did.”

God. He’d liked it too. A lot. Too much. “Did you? I wanted to do more.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He chuckled. “I figured I’d done enough. When you grabbed my hair and started screaming…”

“I did not scream.”

“You made noises.”

“I couldn’t help it. But Jack?”

“Yes, Sara?”

“In the interest of being a good trainer?”

“Yes?”

“A guy can never do too much of that.”

He bit back a smile. He was glad she’d liked it because he hadn’t really known what he was doing. He’d done research on it—lots of research—but he’d never actually done it before. Of course, he wasn’t telling her that. “And in the interest of being a good trainee?”

“Yes?”

“I would hope you would give me…directions. You know. If I wasn’t doing it right.”

She laughed. “You know I’m not shy when it comes to telling men what to do.”

“Not at all.”

“But with your technique…”

“Yes?” Holy crap. He had a technique.

“I don’t think it’d be possible to do it wrong.”

“Oh. Did you like my technique?”

“You know I did.” He liked the way her voice softened, warbled a little. Damn, he wished he were there with her. Fucking her. Right now. But he had to be disciplined. He had to take this slow. It meant way too much. “I-I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Are you?” The thought of pleasing her warmed him. “Me too.”

Sara was ready for their date two hours before Jack was due to arrive, although she changed outfits several times in the interim. What was casual anyway?

She wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous as she stared at her reflection in the mirror—wondering if perhaps she should change again—this was Jack, for heaven’s sake. She’d known him forever. And where had those butterflies flitting around in her belly come from?

Surely not from thinking about the night before. About the feel of his big palms, his heat, his mouth on her core. She shuddered as she remembered the way his fingers had felt as they eased up into her, deep and thick.