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IN WHICH... YOU ARE HIRED TO TUTOR HIM FOR HIS UPCOMING TEST.
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YOU SAT IN YOUR TINY DORM ROOM, STARING AT YOUR LAPTOP.
Tuition payments were coming up, and your account was barely holding onto two digits. Your parents had already told you college was your thing to figure out—they weren't helping, never had, and never would. Still, you were determined to make something of yourself, to break out of the cycle.
That's when you got the idea to set up a Fiverr profile. You were smart—always had been—and you knew you could tutor people and make some extra cash. Nothing crazy, just enough to make a dent in the tuition bill. After setting up the account with a decent rate, you logged off, hoping for the best.
The next morning, you woke up to a new request.
The client's name was Charles, and he needed help with math, he said. You accepted the job, set up a time to meet, and found yourself on his doorstep the next day. Charles lived in an big house, but had the vibe that made you feel like you had to watch your back. When he opened the door, you were greeted by the faint smell of weed and the sight of a tall, brown-skinned dude, his dreads a orange-red color and his hoodie low. He gave you a once-over, a small smirk on his face.
"You're the tutor, right?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"Yeah, you Charles?" you replied, crossing your arms, matching his energy.
"Yea. C'mon in."
For the first few sessions, things were professional—well, as professional as they could get with him lighting up a blunt halfway through every time. He had this intense gaze, the kind that made you feel like he was reading every thought in your head, and a voice that had this slightly low, that sent chills down your spine. He'd lean close when he didn't understand something, his shoulder brushing against yours, his fingers grazing the page as he followed along. You'd catch yourself holding your breath, trying to focus on the numbers, not the heat radiating off him.
But today was different. You were halfway through explaining something when he leaned back, blowing out smoke, his eyes never leaving you.
"You ever take a break?" he asked, voice dripping with suggestion.
You raised an eyebrow. "And do what?"
He chuckled, leaning forward again, his face inches from yours. "I dunno. You always seem so... focused. Thought you might wanna loosen up a bit."
You felt your heartbeat pick up. He reached over, holding out his blunt. You hesitated, but something about the way he was looking at you made you reach out and take it. The weed hit harder than you expected, making you cough. He laughed, low and throaty, patting your back as you caught your breath.
"Damn, ma. You good?"
"Shut up," you muttered, embarrassed but feeling the warmth in your chest, the buzz slowly creeping into your limbs.
He reached over, his hand landing on your thigh, sending a shock through your body. His thumb brushed back and forth, casual, like he didn't even realize he was doing it. But you both knew. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering.
"You gonna let me kiss you or what?"
Without another word, you closed the distance, your lips crashing together, hungry and intense. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you onto his lap as the books and papers scattered off the table. You felt his hands slide under your shirt, his touch rough and firm, as if he'd been waiting for this moment. The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, muttered curses, and the quiet rustle of clothing being pushed aside.
You found yourself pressed against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a burning trail as he went lower. Every nerve in your body was on fire as his hands explored every inch of you, possessive and demanding.
"Damn, girl," he murmured, his voice husky as he looked up at you, his fingers brushing against the marks he left on your skin. "You don't know how long I been waitin' for this."
You smirked, pulling him closer. "Then what you waitin' for?"
That was all he needed to hear. The rest of the session was a blur of tangled limbs, whispered curses, and the raw, electric connection between you. By the time you both collapsed onto his couch, breathless and spent, you could barely remember what day it was, let alone the math problems you were supposed to be solving.
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.
"So," he said, breaking the silence, a smirk on his face. "Think you're free tomorrow?"
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the smile tugging at your lips. "Depends. You actually wanna learn math this time?"
He laughed, pulling you in for another kiss. "Nah, girl. I just want you."
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AUTHOR NOTE; shes backkk... maybe, but i am changing this book to underground rappers & rappers.
