Chapter 42 #2
Helen chuckles, then lifts her chin, all mock authority. “Eyes up here, hotshot.” She points two fingers to her face. With difficulty, I drag my gaze away from her beautiful body.
“Next question.” She continues, “You’re piloting a small boat, and you see a red buoy marked with the number six.
What do you do?” She gives me a look that’s triumphant, like she knows I’ll get it wrong, but I remember Jamie drilling this into me last week.
I smirk. “Keep it on my starboard side when returning to port. Red, right, returning.”
Her brows rise, impressed despite herself.
“Well, well, well. Someone actually listened.” She hooks a finger under the strap of her bra, dragging it slowly off her shoulder before reaching behind to undo the clasp.
She hesitates, and I catch it, that beat of insecurity, of self-consciousness.
It’s in the way her breath hitches and her hands falter like she’s not sure she can go through with it.
I silently hold my breath. Waiting to see what she does.
She steadies herself and shrugs her shoulders forward. The bra slips to the floor.
My chest tightens, not just with want but something heavier.
Pride. Awe. She has no idea what it means, this quiet act of courage, choosing to bare herself, trusting me enough to see her exposed like this.
The Helen I met months ago would’ve hidden behind a turtleneck, but now she’s standing here, chin lifted, shoulders back.
Vulnerable and defiant all at once. The sight of her nearly undoes me.
Beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it.
She’s breathtaking.
“God bless the United States Coast Guard,” I whisper hoarsely, equal parts wonder and want.
Her laugh bursts out, warm and amused, sunlight in the middle of the storm. She points to the study guide, eyes dancing. “Next one.”
I sit forward, my nerves lit with anticipation.
Helen flips to the next page. “All right, sailor boy. You’re approaching another vessel head-on. What’s the rule of action?”
I smile and lift my chin, confident as hell. “Easy. The boat with the bigger engine has right of way.”
Her grin is instant, victorious. She points at me. “Wrong!”
My smirk slips. “What? That makes sense.”
“Both vessels are supposed to turn to starboard and pass port-to-port. You fail.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Unbelievable. So what you’re saying is, size doesn’t matter?”
“Don’t fool yourself, size always matters.” Grinning, Helen points at me like a judge handing down a sentence. “Boxers off.”
For a moment, I consider calling her bluff, but the way she’s looking at me, daring me, combined with how brave she was just minutes ago, leaves me no choice.
Still, I can drag this out, tease her, make her squirm.
I let the silence stretch, filled only with the soft patter of rain against the windows.
Then I tip my head back and give her my best slow-burn smirk, looking up at her through my lashes.
With deliberate, striptease precision, I grasp the waistband of my boxers and drag them down, never breaking eye contact.
It’s a struggle to work them past my cast, but Helen leans in, helping me tug them the rest of the way.
When I’m bare, my cock springs free, hard and straining, and her sharp inhale is better than any victory lap.
Her lips part, tongue darting to wet them. “Mmm,” she murmurs, voice low and husky. “I think I like tutoring too.” A long pause, then Helen shakes her head like she’s breaking out of a trance. She furrows her brow, concentrating. “All right. Last question. Make it count.”
Not at all embarrassed by my nakedness, I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees. “Hit me.”
She clears her throat, trying to sound calm, but the tremor in her voice betrays her like she understands how, now that we’re almost to the end, the stakes have risen.
“You’re at sea. It’s night. You see a vessel showing a green light and a red light, both visible at the same time. What does it mean?”
My brain fumbles for a second, half-distracted by how close she sits, by how sexy she looks, but then it clicks. I smirk, slow and triumphant. “Easy. It means the other vessel’s coming head-on. The rule is that both of us turn starboard, pass port-to-port.”
Helen freezes. “Correct.”
I sit back, grinning like I just won the Super Bowl. “Which means…” I gesture at her with a lazy wave of my hand.
Her jaw tightens, but her cheeks flush red. She tries for sass, but it comes out breathless. “Fine. A deal’s a deal.”
With deliberate slowness, like she’s getting revenge on me for earlier, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. The lace slips down her hips, her last piece of armor falling away until she stands in front of me, completely bare.
My throat works as I drink her in. “I’ve never been so happy to get an A in all my life.” My voice cracks like a kid during puberty.
Helen laughs, trying to sound unimpressed, but there’s heat flickering in her eyes, answering mine. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Captain Cocky. You still need to study tomorrow and every day until the test.”
I grin, reaching for her wrist. I tug her toward me. “Oh, I plan on studying all night long.”
She falls into my lap. Her soft laughter halts, and her eyes widen when she feels how hard I am beneath her.
“Still want to argue about size?” I whisper into her ear, dragging my tongue along her pulse until she shivers.
Before she can answer, I flip her around so she lies on her back. I lean down and kiss her long and deep until her hand comes up and fists into my hair, tugging hard enough to make me groan.
Her breath catches, and I grin, crooked and reckless. “Do I get extra credit if I make you come?”