Smut, Spice and everything nice

I know you want this

Jackie

I knew exactly what I was doing the moment I picked out this top. It barely covered anything, just enough to keep things interesting. I wanted him to look, to notice me, not as his student, but as a woman. Today wasn't just any tutoring session with Zion it was the day I planned to push things further, to finally see if the attraction I'd been sensing from him was real.

The soft thrum of anticipation buzzed beneath my skin as I walked up the steps to his house. I could feel my heart racing, not from nerves, but from excitement. My fingers curled around the strap of my oversized jacket, tugging it tighter as if that could somehow keep me in control.

The door opened almost too quickly, like he'd been waiting for me. He always did. His eyes lingered for a second too long when he saw me, taking in the sight of my bare skin peeking out beneath the hem of my jacket. I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back a grin. He didn't know it yet, but I had him exactly where I wanted him.

We settled in at the table, the same routine, but something felt different today. The air between us crackled with an unspoken tension. I could feel his eyes darting to my chest whenever he thought I wasn't looking. He probably thought he was being discreet, but I knew better. I had planned for this. Every movement, every shift in my chair, was deliberate.

"It's so hot in here," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper as I shrugged off the jacket. I pretended not to notice how his gaze locked onto me, his jaw tightening for just a split second. I let the fabric slip from my shoulders slowly, as if I were peeling away layers of the tension between us.

Underneath, the crop top clung to me, barely covering my chest, leaving the smooth curve of my collarbone and the barest hint of skin exposed. I could feel his discomfort, the way his body tensed beside me. My skin tingled under his gaze, the heat of it almost as tangible as the humid air around us.

I leaned closer, pretending to focus on the problem in front of me, my fingers tracing the edge of the notebook, "This equation is so difficult," I sighed, letting a hint of a whimper slip into my voice, like I was frustrated—but not just with the math. My voice was soft, just loud enough for him to hear the breathiness in it. I shifted, letting my arm brush against his, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

I could feel it—the way the energy between us shifted. He was trying to stay focused, trying to maintain control, but I could see it cracking. His hands, which were always so steady, seemed to hesitate as they hovered over the paper.

My heart raced faster, adrenaline flooding my veins. This was what I wanted—to push him to the edge, to see him react. I could sense him adjusting in his seat, and I had to bite back a smile.

"Can you show me how to do this part?" I asked, turning slightly in my chair so I was facing him, pushing the notebook toward him. I leaned in just enough that my shirt rode up, exposing the soft skin of my stomach. His eyes flickered down for a moment, and I could feel the pulse of tension in the air grow stronger.

He cleared his throat, his voice a little rough when he finally spoke, "It's not that hard. Let me show you." But the way he said it—like he was talking about something entirely different—sent a shiver down my spine.

I leaned even closer, my breath catching when our arms brushed again. His skin felt warm against mine, and I could feel the heat radiating from him, almost as if his body was fighting against the tension building between us.

I shifted in my seat, letting out a small, frustrated sigh. "I just don't get it," I murmured, my voice lower now, more intimate. I wasn't even pretending to focus on the math anymore. My chest rose and fell a little faster, and I could feel his gaze flicking to the exposed skin, the rise of my breasts beneath the fabric of my shirt.