Teach Me (The Wolf Hotel Book 3)

“I wonder if Jenny will remember puking all over her mom’s rosebush,” I mutter, taking in the taupe and silver bedding and subtle floral accents of Henry’s room. Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes gave him the one in the attic that spans the entire floor and overlooks the garden I used to maintain. Arguably the nicest room.

“She’s not going to remember anything. I doubt she could even see straight by the end of it.” Henry reaches back to pull his navy t-shirt over his head, letting me admire his chest and stomach, shaped by hard muscles and covered in smooth, tan skin. I didn’t get to enjoy that sight earlier, my back to him the entire time.

When he sees me standing there, staring at him, he groans. “Don’t look at me like that, Abbi. I’m too tired to do something about it.”

The man is normally insatiable. If Henry is saying that, then he must be exhausted. My heart swells as I remind myself that he flew all the way from Alaska for one day, delaying his trip to Beijing. Yeah, he’s the CEO, but I remember what a nightmare it was to move his meetings around. Miles is going to hate me.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to jump in the shower.” I feel the need to get clean after tonight.

He reaches for his phone. “Go ahead. I have to cover a few things for work.”

The bathroom is small but quaint, with a glass shower stall on the right. I strip down and climb in, reveling in the hot water. These last two days have been equal parts terrible and amazing. Henry showing up made me forget about the whole ordeal with Mama, but I’ll have to deal with that at some point. It’ll be a long time before I can forgive her though, both for risking her health in such a stupid way, but also for trying to keep Henry and me apart.

How do I convince her that he’s not a bad man?

Because he’s not.

He just likes to do bad things to me.

Was it right that we watched that couple? That we got off by watching them? Not that I wouldn’t have gotten off anyway with Henry’s hands on me. But he’s right, I was dripping from the depravity of it all.

It just felt so… seedy, and dirty.

I didn’t really enjoy what was going on in the pool room, but that’s because that was uncomfortable. It didn’t feel safe. And Henry wasn’t there. Would it have been different, had he been there?

And then to get so out of control near the end that we couldn’t stop? Knowing that we were about to have an audience? A drunken one, but one nonetheless. They stood there with the door wide open and watched and listened to us orgasm together. It was such an intimate moment and stupid Jenny and Veronica witnessed it.

My cheeks flush at the thought of that.

What does that say about me, that in the heat of the moment I allowed that?

The shower door opens behind me and Henry steps in, taking up all available space in the stall. He leans down to lay a soft kiss on my lips, his hand sliding over my ass in a gentle manner. “Sore?”

“A little.” The soap burned at first but I was fine by the time I finished cleaning myself down there. I like being able to feel him inside me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Abbi… I’m too tired for games.”

I study him as he tips his head back to soak his hair under the stream of water. “What exactly have you done?”

He smirks. “Can you be more clear?”

“You know… sexually?”

“Right.” He squirts a dollop of shampoo into his hand. “Ask specifics, and I’ll tell you.”

“Specifics?”

“If you’re curious about something specific, I’ll tell you if I’ve done it. But I’m not about to list all of my indiscretions as if I’m at a church confessional.”

I have a mental flash of Henry sitting in that narrow wooden box, giving details in his way. He’d give the priest a hard attack. Okay…. “Have you slept with two women at once?”

He starts rubbing the shampoo into his hair. “Yes.”

“How many times?”

“I didn’t keep count.”

I roll my eyes. “So more than a few?”

He chuckles. “Yes.”

“What about more than two women at once?”

He hesitates.

“Seriously?”

“A few times.”

I try to picture that. All those female body parts and only one of Henry. Even though his dick, hanging limp between his legs right now, is still an impressive five inches—at least.

He chuckles softly and I realize I’m scowling at his dick.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“What about men? Have you ever had sex with a man?”

“No.”

“Have you ever wanted to?”

“No.”

“Have you done anything with another man?”

“I’ve shared a woman, if that counts.”

“Right.” Margo. Somehow, I had forgotten.

How exactly did that go, anyway? Was it like with me and Ronan and Connor? My imagination travels to that day trapped in the truck with them. That was… intense but intimate, because I trusted them completely.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Henry mutters, as if reading my mind.

I quietly watch him rinse the suds out of his hair, the soapy rivulets running down his chest and abdomen. Curiosity finally gets the better of me. “Why not?”

“Why not, what? Let another man fuck you?” There’s an edge in his voice.

I instinctively reach for him, tracing the ridges of his stomach soothingly. “I don’t want another man, Henry. I’m just wondering why you wouldn’t do it again.”

“There are a lot of things I’ll do with you and for you, if you ask me to, but sharing you with another man is not one of them.”

“Why not?” I’m fishing for him to say the words. For him to talk to me, to tell me how he feels. He must know it.

He reaches for the bar of soap and begins lathering, saying nothing.

“You shared… her.”

“She was nobody.”

“And I’m….”

His jaw tenses. “Not nobody.”

My heart squeezes. As terrible as Henry is at expressing his own feelings, I sense them. That’ll have to be enough for me.

For now.

Leaning in close until my nipples are just barely grazing his flesh, I lift to my tiptoes and catch his lips with mine. He doesn’t move to meet them, but he doesn’t pull away either, his breath coming out in shallow pants as I run my tongue across the seam of his mouth, trying to coax him.

Finally, he lays a single, chaste kiss on my mouth. “You done in here?”

“Yeah.”

His hands curl around my hips to spin me around. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You’re kicking me out?” I pout.

“Cramped showers aren’t my thing.” He pushes the door open and slaps my ass, ushering me out.

Fair enough.

A minute is more like ten. Ten minutes to dwell on the entire twisted night—from being trapped in that pool room, to Henry showing up, to having us do things in his truck that I would never expect myself to do.

Henry seems to prefer risqué things. He likes watching and being watched. He’s had more than one woman at a time. He’s shared a woman, he’s done God knows what else—the fact that I can’t even come up with anything else to ask him about just proves how inexperienced I am.

What else is he going to want me to do?

Should I be worried that just having sex with me eventually won’t be enough?

He says he doesn’t want to share me, but what if there’s a time that that changes? What if there’s a time when I have to share him to keep his appetite sated?

Just the thought of him inside another woman makes my chest hurt.

Is this really what everyone keeps saying, about me not being the kind of girl that can keep a man like him interested? Maybe it has nothing to do with money.

By the time I hear the bathroom door click open and watch Henry stroll out to crawl into the bed beside me, the glow from my lamp highlighting his beautiful naked body, I can’t help but wonder how long I’ll be able to satisfy him before I can’t.

“Hey.”

He leans over to kiss me and at the same time, switches my bedside lamp off, throwing us into near darkness, the only light a faint glow from a streetlight outside. “You were chewing your bottom lip.”

“So?”

“You do that when something’s wrong.”

I hesitate. “What if I just want normal person sex?”

“Normal person sex?” His voice is laced with amusement.

“You know… In a bed, in the dark, by ourselves. Just you and me, being together and boring. Penis-in-vagina sex.”

He sighs, sinking into the mattress beside me. “Then we have ‘normal person sex.’”

“Yeah, but….” I swallow, afraid he’ll chastise me for sounding insecure. “What if I’m not enough for you one day? What if you get bored?”

Silence hangs in the room for so long, I find myself holding my breath warily.

And then his large, warm hand seeks out my face, to cradle it, his thumb dragging back and forth over my cheek as he climbs on top of me, gently settling his body between my legs. I search the dark for his face but I can’t make it out, so I’m left to just feel him.

Feel his weight pressing down on me.

Feel his minty breath skating across my face.

Feel his erection growing thick against me. Even with my soreness from earlier, my body automatically begins responding, growing slick. I stretch my thighs wide, opening up for him.

His fingers coil through mine and, lifting my arms above my head, he gently pins my hands down. He begins kissing me, his lips soft but forceful, leisurely but unrelenting. I moan against his mouth as his cock pushes into me.

The old bed frame begins to creak with his deliciously slow tempo and gentle thrusts. It doesn’t take long before he’s slipping in and out with ease, his pelvic bone rubbing against my clit with each pass to give me the friction I need.

I’m waiting for him to pick up the pace, to push harder into me, to release my hands so he can lift and bend my body for his pleasure. To turn the light on so he can watch my breasts bounce and me writhe beneath him. To start whispering dirty demands in my ear.

But he never does, his hips keeping that slow pace, his tongue sliding out every so often to catch mine, his breaths small pants, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over mine.

It’s so intimate.

So consuming.

His fingers tense within mine and a few minutes later, with my name slipping from his tongue in a deep groan, he’s pulsing inside me, filling me with his seed.

Releasing my fingers, he pulls out of me and begins shifting downward. I reach for him, toying with strands of his damp, silky hair, my stomach tightening with anticipation as his breath leaves a hot trail across my stomach. I hold my breath.

I have to smother my cries with a pillow when I come only thirty seconds later, not wanting the Rhodeses to hear me in the quiet of the night.

I’m panting when he returns to kiss me softly, his lips tasting like both of us. “How could I ever get bored of that, Abbi?” he whispers. Rolling off, he stretches out on his back, pulling me over to rest on his chest. I don’t want to ruin the intensity of this by saying something stupid, so I say nothing, listening to his breaths, feeling his heart beat. Within minutes, his breathing has grown shallow.

“I love you, Henry,” I whisper into the darkness, wishing I were brave enough to say it to him when he can hear me.

~ ~ ~

God, he’s so beautiful.

Only once, in a plane thousands of feet in the air, with his legs sprawled out in front of him, have I ever witnessed Henry sleep.

He didn’t look like this.

Peaceful.

Vulnerable.

I slowly roll onto my side, trying not to disturb the mattress, wanting a better look at this sleeping man. He’s on his back, one arm resting on the pillow over his head, the other draped over his stomach. Long, dark lashes fringe his unmoving lids, so long they reach for his cheeks below.

His lips are parted just slightly. They really are the perfect lips, full and pink. I stay my hand against the urge to reach out and trace them with a finger. The things they’ve done… to me.

To others.

I let my gaze drift down, over his neck—even his neck is sexy—over his chest, down across his stomach, to where the white sheets bunch, the outline of his thick cock clearly visible.

I pinch a fold in the sheets and then, ever so slowly, begin pulling it back, until I’ve uncovered him.

I love his cock. I never thought I’d say that about a penis, but it’s as beautiful and strong as the rest of him. And it’s all mine. I don’t have to share it with anyone.

Suddenly it jumps, startling me.

Henry’s soft chuckles pull my eyes up to his now open but sleepy gaze.

“Good morning.” I shift back up to drape myself over his chest and kiss him.

“What time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

He groans.

“What time do you have to leave?”

“I have to be at the airfield by one.”

It’s my turn to groan. I have three hours left with him and then I don’t know when I’ll see him again. The dread of missing him is already settling on my shoulders.

He pushes my hair off my forehead. “I need to tell you something.”

It sounds ominous and I instantly grow wary. “Okay?”

“I’m going to Margo’s chateau again. The one she wants to partner with Wolf on.”

The place where you and her boyfriend fucked her? “Oh?” What am I supposed to say? Don’t go?

“I thought you might want to come with me.”

“To France?”

“Yes. In three weeks.”

I hesitate. “Will she mind?” Because I will sure as hell mind if he’s with her there alone.

“She asked me to invite you.”

“Really?” Is she aware of how jealous I am of her?

“There will be a few other people there as well.” He slides out from under me. I lie on my stomach and admire his firm ass as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“I’d need a passport.” And a million other things, like a new wardrobe, my hair redone, my body waxed.

Henry returns after relieving himself. “That’s easy enough to get. So is that a yes?”

“I have to make sure Jed can manage while I’m away but… yeah.” A trip to France with Henry. Excitement bubbles inside. I don’t think I’ll have the same resistance from Mama as I’ve had up until now, after what she just pulled. But who knows with her.

It’d be good to have Aunt May on my side for this one. “Are you hungry? We could go to the Pearl. It’s just around the corner.”

“Fine. I just need to finish something.” He looks so serious all of a sudden.

“For work?”

He dives into bed, crawling up behind me, between my legs. His arms slide beneath me. I let out a squeal as I’m suddenly being dragged back and upward, until my thighs are sandwiched within his biceps and my ass is in his face.

“I was too rough last night. I need to make it better.”

I gasp as I feel the first swipe of his wet tongue against me. “I don’t….” Oh my God. He licked me there once before. I don’t know if I can….

“Let go of your insecurities, Abbi, and look at how hard I am right now.”

I manage to twist my body enough to see his rigid cock jutting out, beads of moisture rolling off the top. And then another long swipe of his tongue has me squirming and squeezing my eyes shut.

He doesn’t relent this time, warm breath skating across my skin once before his mouth closes over me and that tongue of his both soothes and tortures me. I try my hardest to relax, to remind myself that he’s doing this because he wants to.

Not four minutes later, I’m muffling my screams of ecstasy into Mrs. Rhodes’s goose-down pillow as Henry brings me to a mind-bending orgasm.

~ ~ ~

Henry slides another piece of bacon into his mouth.

That dirty, filthy mouth that brings me so much pleasure. I can’t stop staring at it.

“Abbi?”

It takes me a moment to realize he’s asked me a question.

“Uh-huh?”

The corner of that mouth twitches. “What were you just thinking about?”

I duck my head as the blush creeps up my cheeks. “I don’t know what’s taking Aunt May so long. She must be busy.”

I feel the weight of that gaze on me for long moment before he relents, letting it roam over our small family restaurant, a hub for Greenbank’s gossip. “Well, it is packed in here.”

I recognize several people from church. They’re all watching, curious. I smile at them when we make eye contact, and they smile back.

I wonder how many of them have already heard that I stayed at the Inn with Henry last night.

The look on Mrs. Rhodes’s face when I trailed him down the stairs half an hour ago in my skirt and tank top from last night was priceless. Henry was the only one renting, so any noises that might have carried through the house couldn’t be blamed on anyone but us. She was professional enough to smile and nod, and ask when Henry was coming through again, that they may reserve the same room for his stay.

While Mrs. Rhodes herself isn’t a huge gossip, she lives two doors down from Peggy Sue and, well… we all know that woman has a long wooden spoon at the ready to stir the pot.

“Have you spoken to that branding company yet?” Henry takes a sip of coffee.

“I’m supposed to talk to that girl on Monday.”

He nods. “Good. Do it.”

“Why did you go to that trouble, anyway?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I was on the plane. I had some time to kill.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t have time for games, Henry.” I drop my voice an octave to mimic him when he says that.

That earns me a smirk. “Fine. You said this was yours. Not your parents’. Not fuckface’s. Just yours.”

“Yeah….” I’m not following.

“And you were embarrassed to let me see it. Why?”

I shrug. “It’s like running a five-cent lemonade stand at the end of the driveway in the summer compared to what you do.”

He smirks, like he knew that would be my answer. “I want you to have something that’s completely yours and that you can be 100 percent proud of. So, go… run with it. Take full advantage of them. They don’t just do branding. They can help with company start-up, distribution, production efficiencies, forecasting. They’re the best at what they do. You’ll learn something and that’s always useful, no matter where you end up in life.”

I sigh. “How much do these people cost?”

“I’m not fighting over money with you,” he mutters between mouthfuls. “It’s my money and I’ll spend it how I damn well please.”

Impatient business tycoon Henry is making an appearance. I won’t win against him, and I don’t want to fight.

“Fine. I’ll talk to them.”

“Good. Let me know how it goes.” Finishing his last mouthful, he wipes his mouth with his napkin, checking his watch. “I need to be leaving for my plane soon.”

I reach across the table, placing my hand over his. “A few more minutes. She’ll be out soon. She really wants to meet you.”

His brow furrows. “This is your mother’s sister, you said?”

“Yeah. But she’s nothing like my mother.”

As if summoned by our whispers, Aunt May pushes through the kitchen doors and makes her way over to us, her slender frame weaving through the tables. “Finally! I’m sorry, I had to prep the roast chickens for tonight’s dinner and then it got busy and, you know…. Well, I’m here now.” She heaves a sigh, smiling first at me, and then at Henry.

“Aunt May, this Henry.”

If there was ever a graceful way to get to a standing position from sitting at a small diner table, Henry has mastered it, smoothly getting to his feet to tower over the woman, offering her his hand. “Abbi talks about you a lot.”

I think I’ve only ever mentioned her once to him, but that’s the right thing to say.

“Oh, does she, now?” She chuckles. “All good things, I hope.”

“Only.”

“Can you sit for a minute, Aunt May?” I need to beg for your help with Mama.

“Sure, I’ll just….” She glances around for a chair to pull up but they’re all taken.

“Here, I’ll find one for myself.” Henry gestures to the chair he was just occupying. “I insist.”

She takes it, giving me a wide-eyed look. Approval, I think. “So? How’s your mother doing?”

“She’s fine.”

“Really? The Reverend was in here last night for dinner, saying how worried he was about her heart.”

That’s because he doesn’t know what she did. “It’s a long story that I can’t get into right now, but we should be more worried about her head.”

Her lips purse. “About him, I take it?”

I glance over to see Mrs. Baxter and her daughter preening over Henry as he asks to borrow their spare chair. “He makes me so happy. Why can’t she see that?”

“I can tell.” She pauses. “He’s a lot older than you.”

“Ten years.”

“How long before he’s looking to settle down, have some kids? Are you ready for that?”

Henry and kids? Her question throws me. I haven’t given it a second’s thought, too busy focusing on just keeping his interest. “We’re far from that point, yet.” Is he even the marrying kind?

“I suppose.” She sighs. “Your mother called me this morning. Asked if I’d seen you. Said you were out all night. With him, I assume?”

“Yes. He flew in late and he has to leave soon. I won’t see him for weeks.”

She takes a sip of her coffee, pulling back in time to smile just as Henry settles in at the end of our table.

“So? Abigail tells me you travel a lot.”

“Yes, too much sometimes. I’m actually on my way to Beijing now.”

“And here I am, thirty-five and having never even left America. Sad, isn’t it?”

“You’d be surprised how many Americans don’t have a passport.” He shoots a knowing look my way.

“I’ve never had a reason until now,” I fire back.

May frowns curiously at the exchange, forcing me to explain.

“I’m going to visit Henry in France. In three weeks. If Mama doesn’t pull anything else.”

“Ah. I see.” May takes another sip of her coffee, her gaze studying me. “Let me know how I can help.”

I smile in relief. Not everyone in my life is against us being together.

~ ~ ~

“Not just yet.” I slide his sunglasses back off him, the knot in my throat growing painfully hard to ignore. “Don’t hide them just yet.”

“I really have to go, Abbi.” His hand rests on the top of the driver-side door. He has one foot inside.

“I know, it’s just… it feels like I’m always saying good-bye to you.” I would have thought it’d get easier each time, but it’s the opposite.

His gaze drifts over Main Street, his jaw tensing. “I told you this was going to be hard.”

He did say that, but I insisted that we try anyway. I don’t regret that, even if it hurts.

I lean into him, memorizing the feel of his chest with my hand just once more. “I wish I could go with you.”

The tension in his jaw slides off. “You don’t have a passport.”

I roll my eyes.

“And you’re needed here, remember? With your parents. And fuckface.” He seizes my chin with his thumb and index finger, and leans in to lay a soft kiss on my lips. “Three weeks. Miles will book your flight for you.”

“Okay.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’ll find a way.”

He heaves a sigh and then climbs into the driver seat, hiding that handsome face behind his sunglasses.

“Henry?”

His brow tightens. “Yeah?”

I want to tell him. I want him to know how I feel about him.

The door is still open and so I scoot in close to him, my hand settling on his muscular thigh.

I open my mouth.

His slight headshake stops me. “Don’t. It’ll just make it harder on you.”

The words die on my tongue as I step back, unable to ignore the hurt that I feel. Is this only hard on me?

The engine comes to a roaring start. “Keep yourself busy.” He raises a severe brow. “And stay the hell away from places like Billy Bob’s.”

I manage to hold on to the tears until his SUV has rounded the street corner.

Three weeks. I just have to wait three weeks and then I’ll see him. I know where my heart will still be.

But what about his?