Dirty Curve

by Meagan Brandy

“I’m wondering why I want to fuck you all of a sudden, and why all you ever do is try real hard to get away from me.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” she says with conviction and a dash of sultry taunting, but I got a feeling that’s for show. “I couldn’t forget our night together if I tried.” She shoves past. Gone is the flirty sexiness her posture and voice held for a whole five seconds and in its place is a resolute chick ready to dish it. Tutor Girl whips around, and volcanic eyes sear mine. “And believe me, I’ve tried.”

She’s fire, I know it, and call me a fuckin’ pyro ‘cause, goddamn if I don’t crave the flame.

Tutor Girl doesn’t have a man, but she ain’t free. She’s mine. Or she will be. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“Girl, I’m telling you, you could breathe near me and I’d be fucking distracted.”

I can’t fall for Tobias Cruz, a little voice in the back of my head whispers, but a wiser, louder one replies with, you already have.

“Table for one or is your date coming?” “Nah, she couldn’t make it.” I shrug, bringing myself closer to her. “She’s working at this little burger joint in town.”

“I don’t like the idea of you being out at night alone, so I made sure you weren’t.” “Lots of people walk home alone at night.” “I don’t want you to be one of them.”

“Go feed your girl, little mama.” I spin and walk out. I’ll be back to feed mine.

“Take from me, Tutor Girl, swear to God anything you could possibly want, I want more.”

“Let me be someone that matters to you, ‘cause, you matter to me, Tutor Girl. Both of you do.”