Adam's Apple (Touch of Tantra #1) (18 page)

“You picked up on that, did you? Perceptive woman.” My sarcastic laugh follows, lightening the mood between us. “I’d appreciate it. Besides, we have some wild chemistry, don’t you think?”

“You’re winning me over in that department, Mr. Kingsley.” Her eyes dip to my lips, and for a moment I think she’s inviting me to kiss her. But her eyes rise again to mine and her plump, tempting lips move instead. “There is definitely something going on between us. My conclusion on what it is exactly is still pending.”

“All right. The lady finally confesses.” I pump my fist a few inches in the air like I just scored a touchdown.

Her eyes fill with laughter as she giggles. “Back to Tantra, you distracting man.” God, I love to hear her giggling. It’s music to my ears.

“Please continue. Seriously, I want to know how you became the amazingly together woman you are today.”

“Charmer has to be your middle name.” She teases while reaching for my hand and squeezing it lightly. “Back to my story. During my first meeting, I was so much like you. Curious but unsure what Tantra was about. Also my mood was foul that day. I had grueling counseling sessions with clients and just wanted to go home and sleep. The thought of hanging out with a bunch of people talking about feelings, sex, and love was the last thing I wanted to do, but I went any way. More like I dragged myself there.”

She continued. “I endured the meeting and stuck it out. I’m so thankful that I did, too. At the end of the session they had us participate in a simple exercise. Nothing too sexual, more about opening yourself up to someone. Connecting on a basic human level.”

“So no sex lessons the first time?” I ask her, surprised. I was expecting something more down and dirty like the picture I viewed in the book with the couple dry-humping each other.

“Nothing like that at all. I sat across from, well, you know who.” She speaks the words out of the side of her mouth cutely, trying to skip over Frenchie’s name, and I’m glad.

“Yes, he who shall not be named.”

“Yes, him. Anyway, the simple exercises the instructor had us do made me reconnect with my feelings. I’d totally shut them off. I thought it would be better to feel nothing than the pain of my loss. So I locked the door to them and became numb. Tantra was the key that opened the door up for me. All the emotions I’d stuffed away came tumbling out.” Her eyes have a sincere look, and she takes both my hands in hers. “It all started with opening myself up and feeling again.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.” Confusion has to be plastered all over my face. “Care to show me?”

“What?
Now
?” Her eyes are wide in surprise. My request obviously isn’t what she expected.

“This will not come as a shock, but I’m more of a hands-on learner.” I wiggle my brows suggestively. “Possibly the engineer in me, who knows? Whatta ya say?” Kathryn bites her lip as she decides on an answer. But I can’t wait and I push her to respond. “Come on, say yes. Please?”

“On one condition. No laughing. Tantra means a lot to me. The thought of you not taking it serious bothers me. You laugh and my teaching stops. Capiche?” There is no arguing with her menacing threat. She loves to end with a punch that puts me in my place.

“You love the word, capiche, don’t you?” I pause for a second and watch her beautiful face. “But I’ll be your willing student. I’ll only laugh if you tickle me.”

“You’re ticklish?” She smiles devilishly at me. Her hands wander up my sides, and her fingers start tapping eagerly against my ribs. She huffs when I don’t respond with even a slight chuckle.

“Nah, I’m not ticklish. Well at least not there.” She punches my arm lightly. But if she glanced down at my crotch, she would have seen how much her touch did affect me.

“You’re just hilarious.” She stares at me pointedly. “This type of humor is what I’m talking about, though. If I introduce you to Tantra, you have to be serious. I mean it.”

“Settled down,” I say. “I sincerely promise. If it’s that important to you, I’ll be good. Maybe just an occasional smile or two. Surely that would be all right?”

“Of course you can smile. But that’s where I draw the line.” She lifts herself off the couch. Her sweet ass right at my eye level. No lines appear on the curve of her yoga pants, so my mind immediately wonders if she’s wearing anything under them.

She bends over and takes our ice cream bowls. “Let me rinse these bowls out and I can give you a simple intro session explaining Tantra. Unless you’re too tired?”

“Not at all. I’m wide awake. See?” I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to show I’m alert and ready. I’m rewarded with a sexy toss of her lovely hair over her shoulder.

Damn, how I want this woman.

“Why don’t you go ahead of me?” Kathryn begins to walk toward the kitchen. “Change into the pajamas I mentioned earlier in the guest room. My brother’s pair. You need to get out of your stiff monkey suit.”

“When a woman tells me to take off my clothes, I always obey.” My remarks get a half-hearted laugh.

Before disappearing into the kitchen, she looks at me over her shoulder. “When has a woman ever had to ask you to take off your clothes?”

“Touché,” I say mostly to myself as I once again concede her point.

Gathering up my suit coat, I quickly make my way back to the guest room in search of some borrowed pajamas. After shutting the door I disrobe, removing my suit pants and wrinkled dress shirt. I lay them over the edge of the bed.

The bed I would prefer to
only
have my clothes lying on tonight. I can’t help but hope Kathryn will give into me in some way and quit trying to fight this pull between us.

Our being together seems as inevitable as the sun rising and setting. She wants me, although she still hasn’t completely admitted to it yet. I
more
than want her. I’ve made this fact abundantly clear.

The inability to gratify the desires I have for her drives me crazy, too. When has my cock not gotten its way? I have to reach back pretty far to recall a time.

High school was the last memory I have of denying myself, but even then I usually had some girl at my beck and call. Until Kathryn, I’ve never used the words “waiting” and “sex” in the same sentence, nor have they been put together as a thought in my head.

All it’s taken is a beautiful, alluring, and feisty woman with a body fit to be worshipped to completely unhinge me.

Walking over to the dresser, I open a drawer and find a pair of black pajama pants and a T-shirt. I glance at the tag and see Kathryn was correct in guessing my size matched her brother’s. Maybe I should say they didn’t fit and wander into that harem tent of hers in just my boxer briefs. Fuck, I might do it anyway.

Only issue with wearing just my briefs is that my dick has been at half mast almost the entire time I’ve been in her presence tonight. I wouldn’t be leaving much to the imagination.

The barely-there clothing she’s wearing is to blame. Her sports bra dipped seductively low on her chest and exposed the full mounds of her breasts. So round, real, and perfect. She has more than a handful, and I hope to find out how much more soon.

My cock comes alive at the thought of her breasts in my hands and her nipples against my tongue. If I’d walk into her office right now, even covered in these pants, she’ll see how tightly wound up I am for her. But she wants me to be serious, so I remind myself to be good.

After dressing in the pajamas, I glance at my reflection in the mirror over the dresser. I’m in all black from head to toe, but when I look closer at my face, I see something strange in my eyes. There’s anxiousness in them, something unfamiliar to me.

Sighing, I chalk it up to the entire day I’ve endured.

One thing is for damn sure: I need to get back to the real me. The man who makes grown men tremble at the boardroom table. Who cowers to no one, not even a vixen he’s desperate to fuck.

Standing tall with my head held high, I walk out of the guest room with a renewed purpose and decide to quit acquiescing to Kathryn and all her wishes. It’s time for her to give me what I want, which adds up to more than a couple of kisses for the night.

But I scoff at my own thoughts. If I’m being honest with myself, my ability to live up to this declaration is highly unlikely. Not where Kathryn’s concerned.

Once I’m out in the hallway, I notice the door to her office is slightly ajar. My bare feet are quiet as I walk over on the dark wood floor. Stopping in front of the door, I lean forward and listen for any sounds coming from inside. Erotic music plays softly and the room appears dark from what little I’m able to see through the cracked door.

Not wanting to enter without Kathryn’s acknowledgement, I tap my fingers on the wood.

“Come in, Kingsley.” Her voice is breathy and low, almost unrecognizable.

I place my hand on the door but restrain myself and slowly push it open just a couple of inches. There are candles burning faintly on small accent tables, but I can’t see where Kathryn is yet. Golden lanterns hang in various lengths from the silk-draped ceiling. A subdued glow filters through patterns punched into the lanterns’ metal.

I push the door open the remaining way and gasp. Kathryn comes into my view. She’s kneeling on the large cushion in the middle of the room. Breathtakingly beautiful.

Her pose is one of pure submission. Kneeling as she faces me with her sweet ass resting on the heels of her feet. Her delicate hands, the ones I want touching me, are placed flat above her knees as her body leans forward.

I’m still absorbing the scene in front of me. Kathryn is waiting for me while the flickering light casts shadows across her skin and hair.

“Come join me, Kingsley.” Kathryn curls her lips into a sexy smile, and with a gesturing motion of her hand she invites me to join her. At this moment, I’m powerless and will do whatever this beautiful woman kneeling before me wants.

The magnetic pull I’ve felt since I met her last night draws me to her. I’m powerless against its force. Walking across the rug-covered floor, I arrive at the pillow she’s gracefully kneeling on. Without another thought, I bend my knees and reflect her pose. Willingly, I submit.

“Are you ready?” Kathryn asks me with a quizzical lift of her brow. The fact I’m here kneeling quietly and waiting for her to start should be a good enough sign for her.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I look deeply into her eyes as shadows play across her face. With silk tapestries and flickering light surrounding her, she takes on an ethereal presence as if she belongs in another world. My hands itch to reach and touch her soft skin.
Yes, Kathryn
, I want to say,
I’m ready and willing, totally spellbound by you and your beauty
. But I hold my tongue.

“I’m going to start at the basic level with you tonight. I like to call it a
curious beginner’s
session.” Her voice is low, and I have to concentrate to make out the words as they float together in a whisper. “Any time you have a question, please let me know. It’s how you’ll learn.”

I only nod, not saying a word.

“Tantric sex is an art that is taught and learned. But there isn’t one set teaching method universally practiced by everyone. The variations of Tantra remind me of the world’s major religions. One main belief for each one, but countless ways of observing it.”

Some Tantra practitioners prefer a completely fundamental approach, balking at those who try to introduce modern concepts. Others are more liberal, like me, and bring the contemporary world into their teaching and mix the two together. Are you following me?”

I nod my head again. My life experience is limited as far as religion is concerned, but the concept she’s speaking about makes sense.

“I believe most people need a balance between the ancient and contemporary to practice Tantra in their everyday lives. I bring my training as a psychologist into the mix, too. Tantra focuses on touch and connection with your partner, something missing in our world and its daily hustle. It requires people to slow down by stepping out of the rat race and reconnecting with their lover.”

“Giving your time and openness to your partner is the only requirement needed to experience Tantra. There are no sexual aids or equipment. The human body contains everything needed for tantric sex. Hands for touching.” Her eyes travel to my hands placed on my legs, mirroring hers. “Arms for embracing, lips for kissing, tongues for tasting, and eyes for seeing into each other’s souls.”

She stops and gauges my reaction to her words. Just sitting in front of this beauty with her talk of tongues tasting and lips kissing has me hard and wanting to fuck her like never before. Kathryn gazes lower toward my pants and sees my definite interest in what she’s saying about Tantra. She remains silent, waiting for me to make the next move, so I break the silence.

“I like the tools of your trade. Tongues, especially.”

“Your juvenile response is what I feared. Try to act like a grown-up, please?” She shakes her head in disapproval. Her words are meant as a chastisement to my smart mouth.

“You’re right. My apologies, Kathryn.” Dammit, why did I spout off like that? I bow my head once to her as I try to make amends. “I am extremely interested and want you to continue. Please?”

“Thanks, Kingsley.” Any annoyance in her eyes thankfully disappears. “What I want to focus on with you tonight is the human touch.” She reaches out her hands and encloses them around mine. She lifts them up only a couple of inches above our knees.

“Tongues are good, but hands are even better. They’re the essential instrument for what I’m going to teach you tonight.” My cock twitches with those words.

She slowly caresses her thumb over the top of my hands and lowers them back down to my legs. Then her fingers begin to lightly move up my arms. Slowly and carefully she makes her way up my forearms. The feeling of her touch leaves the hair on my arms standing up straight like I’ve been electrocuted. My eyes close in reaction as I try to absorb the sensations I’m experiencing.

“Look into my eyes.” Her voice is commanding and not her usual tone, but I obey nonetheless and open my eyes. I find her staring back at me intensely. Without any of the gentleness from a moment ago.

“Sacred Indian texts teach us that human energy is controlled by nine areas called chakras that run a vertical line straight down our bodies.” One of her hands travels down my body from my neck to my lower abdomen, but she stops her downward progression before making contact with my dick, which is feeling very neglected at the moment. There’s only so much I can take with her fingers all over me like this. Her hand returns back to my arm, and she continues caressing me like before. I hope my cock survives all the sensory overload.

“The goal in Tantra is to unite different areas into one as we, I mean, couples make love. The aim is to open our minds and spiritual side while having sex, combining the two. The key word is open. Freeing oneself.”

As much as I’d like to understand what she’s saying to me, I’m not sure what she really means by opening myself up. It’s a completely foreign concept to me. My life is orderly and controlled. I only share necessary words with those around me. The sharing of feelings isn’t what I do. The thought we’re about to go down that road right now makes me want to stop the session. But I make myself stay here with her, totally unable to leave this woman.

“Tonight we are focusing on this part of your body.” Her hands quit massaging along my arms and she places them over my chest. Lightly pressing into me. Her featherlike touch is so faint I can barely feel its weight against my skin. “This area over your heart is an important energy spot according to Tantric teachings. If it is blocked and closed, then the your entire body’s energy can’t flow. Your heart is the core of your being. So we will start there.”

“Our session is
not
about achieving but about receiving. For someone who constantly strives for results in their life, this concept may seem foreign to you, Kingsley. So try not to think about holding on to your feelings. As I touch you, focus on how it feels and relaxes you. Receive those feelings. Don’t try to fight them.”

I do as she bids me, but I’m so tempted to close my eyes and get lost in her touch. Or possibly hide myself from it. I’m not sure which. However, I force myself to keep my eyes open. 

“I’m going to guide you through a mental exercise while I continue running my hands over your skin. My touch will be light, but purposeful. You need to stare into my eyes the entire time. Do not break our connection by turning away from me or closing them.”

Where is she leading me with this so-called
mental exercise
? It should concern me. But if it means she continues to touch me like she’s doing, I will try to comply and go along for the ride with her.

“I’ll focus.” She has to know I’m completely trusting her at this moment, which for me isn’t a normal occurrence. I’m giving her free reign without any control or stipulations.

“Think of the last time in your life you felt loved by someone. By the word
felt
I want you to think of their touch, too. Perhaps when you were younger. A comforting touch from long ago. Remember how you received that love and their touch. What it felt like, how you responded to their love.”

Her command is not one I want to process inside my brain or my heart; I’d rather concentrate on
her
touch alone. Going back in my past to when I felt a loving touch is dangerous. It will expose a dark place I’ve locked away. My body stiffens even as her touch tries to coax me into obeying her instructions, but what she’s wishing me to do, right now, may simply be too much. I don’t know if I can do it.

“You’re resisting what I’ve asked. I can feel it. There has to be a moment in your life where you felt this kind of connection, but now you’re not willing to reach back and bring the memory to life. Why?”

“You’re asking me to do something, think of things, I’ve refused to dwell on for years.” Our eyes are locked on each other with an intensity I never knew possible. But I believe she understands my confession and knows how difficult this is for me.

“You do remember a certain time you felt that comforting touch, don’t you? You’re fighting it, I can see. Your entire body has tensed up as I was touching you. Even the muscles on your face are strained and tight.” She stops and stares deep into my eyes. Her gaze penetrates me, reaching deep inside as if she’s trying to draw my secrets out. Those I’m not able to share.

“Do you want to know what I see in your eyes right now?” I don’t respond to her question. I’m sure she’s going to let me know her assessment regardless of my reply. “A scared man. Scarred, too. You may have conquered Wall Street, but you’ve not conquered your own demons. They lie repressed inside of you. Releasing them will heal you. It’s like a cancer eating away inside of you. Keeping you from experiencing life to its fullest. Believe me, you can do this, Kingsley. Let them go.”

“How?” I know she’s right. I can’t even form an argument to deny what she’s said. And honestly, the fight within me to hide myself from her requires more energy than I have tonight. The day has left me raw with my defenses down.

“Can you think of one time where a touch was so powerful you can almost feel it again just by reliving the memory?” She’s back to rubbing my hands. She has no idea she’s encouraging me to go back to the one person who has loved me the most, my mother. I never mention her name aloud to anyone. Even after her death, my friends stayed clear of the subject. It’s a gamble for me, and I have no idea what the consequences will be if I talk about her, think about her, and remember her.

“There is one person who loved me like you’re talking about. But the memories I have with her are something I prefer not to think about.” I try to draw a line but it’s vague at best. Kathryn will try to erase it and have me cross over it. I can feel her pulling at me now. Leading me toward some cliff where I’ll likely free fall.

“You have a simple choice right now. Go back to those memories, open the door to them or we can stop right where we are. There’s no reason to continue, and I can’t make you think about this person or the memories. The choice is yours.”

The choice to bury my mother’s memory is how I’ve gotten through the last ten years knowing I was the reason she took her own life. No matter how warped her reasoning was, she believed her suicide was the best thing for me, that it would free me. How fucking wrong she was.

“I don’t want to end what we have going on here, but I don’t know if I can go back to those memories. I’ve embargoed them for years.”

“Because they’re too painful?”

“What other reason would there be?” As cruel as I sound, I don’t care if she’s offended by my tone.

“Fair enough.” Her words are conciliatory. “We can quit if you’d like? It’s getting late anyway.”

“I shouldn’t have bitten off our head. Please I’ll try.” I speak quickly before I really think about the ramifications of what I’ve said. Can I really do this?

“If you are sure?” I nod and express the same response with my eyes. There’s no turning back now. The cliff I’ve imagined is in front of me, and I may be taking her down with me. “If it’s all right with you, I think it’s best if you remove your shirt so I can have direct contact with your skin.”

I gladly comply with her request and pull the T-shirt over my head in a flash. Now I’m sitting half-naked in front of her now, but I’ve never felt so bare or exposed in my whole life. Never have I given my nakedness a thought around a woman, but with her, right now in this moment, I am totally vulnerable.

“I’m going to move closer to you.” Kathryn scoots my way on the cushiony mat. Her nearness feels good to me. If I’m going to do this, I want her as close as she’s willing to be.

“Normally, in my private teaching session, everyone keeps their clothes on. What you’re doing is out of the ordinary for me. And I’d like to take it one step further if possible. Although knowing you, I’m sure you’ll have no issue with it.” A cute smirk marks her face. “What I’d like to have you do is cross your legs in front of yourself.”

My mind drifts back to the Tantra book I browsed through and the image of the couple with the woman straddling the man. My cock gets hard just thinking she may intend for us to be in a similar position. But I may be too distracted, having her so close and wrapped around me, to continue with this
mental exercise
she’s trying to teach me. Will I be able to control myself and keep my hands away from her? Looking at the tent in my pants, I know my cock is going to be a problem, too.

I swing my legs out in front of me, trying not to knock into her as I do. I lean back on the mat with my hands behind me for support as I cross my legs in front of me. Now I’m in position, just liked she requested, sitting with my back straight.

“Now, I’m going to sit on your lap and with my legs going around your sides. I never do this when I’m teaching Tantra, only when I’m practicing it with someone. But I think we need this intimacy for you to open up to me, and for you to finally go back to that place in your past. Normally, I would press myself against your, um, your penis.” She looks down where my
penis
is located and her brows rise. My arousal can’t be missed. I’m big by most standards in this department from what I’ve been told, so my erection is definitely on her radar now.

“As you can see, I’d be fine with that.” She’s likely not going to appreciate my sex-laced comment. But hell, I’m a man with one damn painful hard-on for this woman, and the thought of her pussy coming into contact with me sounds damn fine.