"An A!" My mother's voice is so loud over the phone that I have to take it off speaker just to spare the ears of my roommates, and they’re not anywhere near my room, as well as spare myself the embarrassment of hearing my mother screeching about my grades. "I'm so proud! The tutor, she's been really helping you, then?"

Helping me.

More like contributing to the biggest set of blue balls any man has ever had. I'm like the world record holder for blue balls.

Helping me jerk off more times than I can count over the last few weeks.

Yeah, I don't need to think about that when I'm on the phone with my mother. Actually, scratch that. I don't need to think about Cassie at all. She ditched the tutoring session last week. That sends a clear message about what happened.

She's just another girl. Easy come, easy go.

"It's not that big of a deal," I say.

"Not that big of a deal?" she shrieks. "Listen to yourself. You're not only not going to be off of probation, you'll be on the damn honor roll!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, mom."

"I'm going to call your brother and tell him."

"Do not call Drew."

Because Drew is going to know I have a hard-on for my tutor immediately. He's got a sixth sense about these things. Twins' intuition.

And he'll give me a ration of shit for it.

"Not a big deal," she says. "Are you kidding? I'm coming down this weekend. I'll bring cake! I’ll make spaghetti."

"Mom, you really don't have —"

"Nonsense." She cuts me off. "I'm driving down. Your roommates still like chocolate chip cookies, right? I’ll bring a basket of muffins. Oh, I'll make my cinnamon rolls while I’m there. Are you eating enough?"

"I'm eating enough, mom," I say, exasperated. "The guys, though — they're probably going to be —"

"Partying, I know," she says. "It's summer. Kegs and half-naked girls. I've seen boobs before, Colt. In fact, I have my own pair."

"Thanks, ma. I'm going to vomit in my mouth now."

"Oh, hush," she says. "I know there's going to be half-naked girls and you boys will be doing stupid things. I made it through your teenage years, didn't I? Remember when you and Drew tied that mattress to yourselves and jumped off the roof over at the high school? Just don't jump off any roofs there."

The mattress thing was pretty awesome, I'm not going to lie. We didn't even break anything. I make a mental note not to steer my mother away from the backyard and from seeing the roof slide.

"You can't show up with a basket of muffins at a house party."

"I'll see you Friday night," she says. "And I'll cook up some hangover food for you boys the next day."

"Mom..." I groan. I make a mental note to tell the roommates to move the party to Saturday night. It's easier to move a huge party than it is to move my mom's plans.

"I know. You're welcome."

---

"You showed up here to quit," I say flatly. Cassie is wearing a sleeveless blouse that buttons up the front just like the one she wore before, and a skirt and heels.

She's standing here at the house wearing the same goddamn thing she wore to that tutoring session.

It's all I can do not to rip her shirt open again.

So I stand there with my hands clenched into fists, not because I'm angry – okay, maybe I'm irritated that this girl has me so horny I can't see straight — but because I'm afraid that if I unclench my hands, I'll want to rip that shirt open and pull that skirt up and fuck her right here against the wall.

I'm starting to lose my mind.

She inhales deeply, her breasts rising, and I tell myself not to look at her cleavage.

Don't stare at her tits.

I stare at her tits.

I imagine trailing my tongue down her soft skin, the way I did before, except this time I’d go farther, down to her navel and then —

"Colton," she says firmly.

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me," she whispers, "and your roommates are staring at me."

I turn to see Emmett and Jack – obviously, we call him Jack-off — in the living room kicking back on the sofa and watching television. Emmett waves at me and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Damn it," I grumble. "Come up to my room."

Cassie hesitates. "I don't —"

"Unless you want my stupid roommates," I yell, emphasizing the words for their benefit, "leering at you, you should come up to my room."

Jack-off yells back, "I'm undressing you with my eyes right now."

"He's just being dumb," I assure her.

He's totally thinking about her naked. I flip him off. I should punch him right in the balls for saying that.

"Okay, up to your room," she concedes.

She doesn't say anything as we walk upstairs, and even when we're inside my room, she stands there without speaking. "It's very ... footbally."

"Thanks.”

She opens her mouth a couple of times, like she's trying to say something but can't get the words out, so I jump in before she speaks.

"I wasn't trying to collect on a bet the last time I saw you," I insist, my version of an apology. Except I'm not sorry at all for what happened. In fact, I want it to keep happening. "I mean, I don't think you're a hooker."

"Thanks," she says sarcastically.

"And now it’s your turn. You're sorry for..." I prompt her, my voice trailing off. Damn, this girl is stubborn.

"I apologize for not showing up to the tutoring session last week, Mr. King," she says, suddenly businesslike. She holds her messenger bag in front of her like a shield.

I guess she thinks I'm going to grab her and rip her clothes off like some kind of animal. That annoys me. I mean, just because I did it once before and just because I'm thinking about it now doesn't mean I'm actually going to do it right this minute.

I don't know why I'm so attracted to a girl who gets on my fucking nerves so much.

It also annoys me that she called me Mr. King.

"Mr. King?" I ask. "It's Mr. King now?"

She looks away. "I should have been more professional," she says. "I should have... It's just that..."

I step close to her. I don't know whether I'm more irritated or more turned on right now.

"I can work with Mr. King, if that's what you want to call me. You didn't strike me as the submissive type, but it's kind of hot –"

"I came here to apologize for not showing up," she says. She still holds her messenger bag against her protectively, but when I reach for it, she lets go easily.

"That's all you came here for?"

She looks at me for too long before clearing her throat. "That's it."

"So you don't want to talk about anything else?" I coax her, reaching out and dragging the back of my hand gently down the side of her neck. She does that thing again where she closes her eyes lightly and leans into my touch.

"Nope," she says.

"So you're still going to tutor me?" I put my fingers under her chin, tilt her head up to look at me, and her lips fall open slightly.

"Colton, I don't actually think it's a good –"

"Tutor me." I lean forward and whisper the words in her ear, and she squirms.

The words might as well have been fuck me, the way my cock jumps at the idea.

"I should leave," she whispers.

"You should," I say. "Except you don't want to leave. You want to stay."

She's silent for a long time, taking her lower lip between her teeth like she's struggling to make a decision. "Yes," she breathes.