Peace Offering

ch 11 peace offering feb 6 2017

Peace Offering

Being Thalia

Chapter 11

By avenger-nerd-mom & devikafernando

AU Fan Fiction

In the sequel to Educating Thalia, the lovely Thalia Bareo is growing up, making her own way in the world after losing both men she loved, Professors Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago holds down a job as she tries to deal with the real world. She continues her studies and freelances as a consultant for museums around the world. Being Thalia updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.

If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.

If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia

Word Count 2253

Summary: Tom reaches out to Thalia to make amends.

Previous Chapter, Running in Circles

July 2021

Hours later, still reeling from the day, Thalia Bareo plops on the couch in the lobby. Her tired feet can’t even carry her up the stairs, and she’s a little too tipsy to care. She scrolls her social media accounts, and blissfully her comments to the renowned professor and author aren’t garnering her hate. Many are actually sharing her thoughts. She closes the app when she starts to notice the comments have turned to his movie star good looks, and the way he spreads his legs when he sits. She doesn’t need to be reminded of those things… She sighs and rests her head back, closing her eyes and resting her phone on her tummy.

“Always a pleasure to get in a heated match with you, Miss Bareo.”

Her head snaps forward. “Oh, shit, with the loaded words, Tom, really?”

chap 11 gif

She sucks in her breath at the sight of him. Relaxed, the tie removed, a few curls of his chest hair peek above his unbuttoned shirt collar. His stark black framed glasses draw attention to his beautiful blue eyes, rather than hindering the view. Fuck him, she thinks weakly, her irritation already wavering.

He holds out a small pink box. “Peace offering?”

Thalia’s nostrils flare. “Sure. Bribe the fat girl with cake.” She slaps her denim-clad thigh, her voice laced with sarcasm and possibly a hint of disdain.

He raises his eyebrow and rests on the arm of the chair closest to her. “Thalia, dear, you’re not fat. I never saw you that way…  And I know you love-” His confidence falters and she watches him swallow his words, his Adam’s apple hidden below the layer of ginger scruff on his neck. She still can’t make up her mind if she likes it or not. She mentally shakes her head. It’s not up to her anymore to like it. “You used to love decadent treats. Three years ago, you loved decadent treats…” He sighs, absently rubbing his chin with his other hand. “They’re eclairs from Pierre Marcolini? Your favorite? Chocolat au lait?”

She huffs, clasping her hands together and dropping them in her lap. “That’s just cruel,” she whispers. “You know I can’t say no to those.”

He holds the box forward again. “Why would you want to?” He asks lightly.

“Why are you doing this, Tom?” She asks, taking the box from his hand. She watches in awe as he pulls small plates and plasticware from his leather bag. “Always a boy scout, even still?”

He tilts his head. “I never really understood that American reference,” he shares, holding up the plates for her to serve the treats. When she’s finished, he rests one hand on the table in front of them and signals the night manager with the other. He orders two glasses of wine, ignoring Thalia when she rolls her eyes.

“Liquor and sweets, Tom, not a good mix,” she warns.

He chuckles and licks the chocolate frosting from his thumb. He cocks his eyebrow. “Good thing I found you here and not your room, then.”

Thalia bites down on her lip to keep her expression restrained, but damn if his words didn’t open up the floodgates. She can’t remember the last time a man made her feel wet simply from a few words. It’s gotta be the damn accent, she thinks. My kink. She decides it’s best not to say anything, and cuts off a small bite of the eclair, the cream spilling onto the plate. ‘Cause that’s not sexual or anything, she thinks. A little giggle escapes her lips.

“Thalia?” he smiles, and she can feel the blush creeping over her chest.

She pulls her sweater wrap tighter over her flowered blouse and pretends she doesn’t notice the teasing tone in his voice.

When she still doesn’t speak, he says quietly, “I was sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man; always kind to me, even though I don’t think he liked me.”

She nods, raising her eyebrow at his accurate appraisal of her father. Always so perceptive… Happy for the bite of food in her mouth, she doesn’t have to respond.

“Your stepmother, Stacey, messaged me on Facebook, bloody abomination. Facebook, not your mother-”

“Did she tell you about the fire too?” Thalia can’t believe Stacey had been in contact with Tom, all these years, and never said anything.

“Fire?” He asked, taking another bite of the eclair and settling into the chair in a more comfortable position.

She nods. “I stayed at the school longer than I planned, simply to help my finances after my apartment burned down. Luckily, most of my favorite pieces of memorabilia are always kept on a shelf in my office, but I lost a lot of things… It’s hard starting over.” She watches a group of the conference attendees stumble through the front entry, drunk and carrying on. He doesn’t ask any other questions, where she lived or how she survived after the devastating event. She wonders if Stacey shared that little detail with him- that she’d found comfort in Chris’s arms. Made a life with him, and his daughter. Imperceptibly, she drops her head, as if hiding the fact. “The picture? In the slide show? I’d never seen it before. If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a copy.”

Tom simply nods, a twinkle in his eye. “Can you believe it’s been six years?” He gazes over her shoulder, letting his mind wander. “I may have other photos, if you’d like them. I have a box somewhere and-”

“No. No. Just that one.” She lifts her head and watches him. He’s older, more refined. There are a few more lines on his face, especially between his brows and around his eyes. And is it the way the lobby is lit or does she spot a few gray hairs in his ginger-ish beard? He’s pulling off this unexpected new look well, though she’d prefer to see his razor-sharp jawline without the scruff, slightly patchy in places. He looks well-groomed despite the beard and longer, wavy hair. Maybe a little too thin and tired looking, but still a handsome man. Always a handsome man. “There’s such a juxtaposition to it. The girly sundress and my boots, dirt smudging my cheek… My hand resting on the shovel. If that’s not me in a nutshell, I guess I don’t know what is.”

He murmurs his agreement. “When I found it on an old roll of film, that’s the same way I felt about it. I don’t even know who took the picture, but I’m so glad they did.”

“Me too,” she whispers.

They continue to eat in silence and the awkwardness lifts, or maybe she just feels that way as the wine interacts with her previous buzz.

“So, what’s it like working at the MAN?” Tom asks, moving the topics to safer ground.

“Oh, God, the Museo Arqueológico Nacional? It’s a dream. Was always on my bucket list, ya know? My work as a linguist and an archaeologist has been an asset to their team. Tom, I got to go to Altamira. Can you believe it?”

“Oh my word, Thalia! That’s fabulous, a dream come true! Tell me all about it,” he urges.

She can hardly get a word in the conversation. His own questions and excitement keep the conversation flowing. With a shared interest in the earliest ‘writings’ of man, the cave at Altamira has been limited to the public since 1982, and officially closed since 2010. He moves to sit next to her and huddled over her phone, she shares some of her crude photos with him. “I love that scientific reports refer to the drawings of bison, boars and horses as ‘works of Neanderthal authors,’ Tom. A written word before writing was even invented; it’s fuckin’ incredible. Just breathtaking to be in the space, occupied by early man. Some of the paintings have dated to be over 35,600 years old. It’s just incredible.”

Tom asks questions about the process of uranium-thorium dating for the old cave drawings and the pair banter back and forth for over an hour. Thalia relaxes and begins to enjoy the discussion, reaching a point when she feels comfortable enough to lower her guard beside him, their arms brushing occasionally and at one point she hits his thigh while laughing and sharing a joke. “God, I didn’t even know I missed this,” she admits, knowing she’s lying, and he probably knows it too.

“That’s nice to hear, Thalia,” he agrees.  “It would be even nicer if we could-”

His phone rings and he reaches forward to grab it from an outpocket on his bag. “Hello! Yes, I’m so sorry,” he chirps into the phone. So he’s still apologizing 24/7, she thinks to herself, mad at herself for feeling curious about whom he might be speaking to, knowing she has no right to care. “Yes… No… I’m still in the lobby,” he chuckles. “Yes. Yes. The colleague that gave me trouble today, yes, I believe we’ve patched things up?” He tilts his head towards Thalia. “I deserved it. She had every right to call me out. I was being an insufferable know it all… Ha, ha… you’re so funny. Yes, home in time for dinner tomorrow. Mmhmm… Yes. Alright, g’night… Yes, you too… “ He gives his trademark eh-eh-eh laughter that sounds so familiar and natural to her ears. “No, I can’t. Good-bye.”

Thalia fidgets with her phone, sensing this little reunion is over. She leans forward and stacks their plates together, picking up a napkin as it falls to the floor. “Well, Tom, it was nice seeing you-”

“Thalia,” he breathes out, sounding somewhat choked. “That was my fiancée. I’m getting married in September.”

* * *

Tom grimaces at the bitterness of the coffee he got from a restaurant across from the hotel before catching his Uber ride. He’s loaded the styrofoam cup with additional spoons of sugar but forgone the much-needed cream because he needs the wake-up boost.

As the vehicle takes him out of London, he tries to settle his long-limbed body into the seat more comfortably. He’s barely slept a wink the past few nights. Going to conferences does that to him. Always has, always will. He might be a natural at speaking events and he might always be as polite and affable as a royal doing his social rounds when it comes to interacting with peers or guests or even seminar participants – but he’s still a tad too introverted to enjoy doing it. He’d much rather research a project or write another book. And now he wishes he’d never have accepted the invitation to speak.

Because truth be told, the sleepless nights weren’t just because he attended the event. Thinking of Thalia kept him awake, tossing and turning, torn between haunting memories and fresh guilt.

Tom knew she’d be there too, of course. He had dialed the organizer twice to refuse the offer so he could spare himself the confrontation, then called himself a bloody coward and let them know he would accept.

He gave himself a stern talk before the first day, told himself that it had been his decision to break up, that it had been the right decision. That all the yearning and pining over the past three years didn’t count because on the surface, he did move on. As did she, probably.

He had been afraid to ask, but he’d been quick to notice during the presentation, as she clutched the armrest of the couch, she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

Still, seeing Thalia again, having to discuss topics they both used to obsess about together, privately, now shared so publicly, wrecked him. He’d chosen their tie deliberately, to have the upper hand, maybe also to remember a time when it had seemed he could have her forever. Hell, he didn’t even know the real reason for his choice, but he’d seen her notice it, and all the emotions that crossed her face before she schooled her features.

And then he’d lost his cool deplorably.

“God, you were an arse, Hiddleston,” he mutters to himself and downs another gulp of mediocre coffee. “It’s a miracle she didn’t rip your balls off and feed them to you when you had the fucking nerve to buy her sweets.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Tom shifts in his seat. He hadn’t meant to let himself go like that at the panel but he should’ve known better. Thalia had always had a stronger effect on him than anybody else. She was the only one who could break him into a million pieces, and the only one who could mend him.

But he shouldn’t be having any of these thoughts. And he shouldn’t have approached her at all, shouldn’t have slipped back into their familiar camaraderie only to hit her over the head with his news. He should’ve sent her a bleeding email to apologize and then taken his sorry arse out of her life again. Why the hell had he felt this need to let her know about his upcoming marriage?

He’ll never forget the look on her face. One he’d seen rather too many times in his life now. One he never meant to put on her beautiful, beautiful face.

But deep down, a masochistic part of him was glad he’d told her. He’d wanted a clean cut, hadn’t he? Well, he sure as hell got that now.

Time to move on, even if he didn’t want to.


Author created gif from images found on Facebook

Click to  Chapter 12, Exposed

Copyright © 2019 avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom


ET ch 11 april 12.pngChicago: Chapter 11

Educating Thalia

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom


A collaboration involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans- The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago.  Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, sightseeing, FOOD PORN, cuteness overload, PLAID PORN, innocent making out

*****SUSPEND REALITY- we know it’s not possible to see ALL these attractions in one day. This is what happens when a German girl living in Sri Lanka has never BEEN to Chicago!******

Word Count 2652

SPECIAL NOTE: Due to Good Friday in the States and the New Year celebration in Sri Lanka, there will be THREE story postings this coming week.  Look for chapters to be posted on Wednesday, April 12; FRIDAY, April 14 and Sunday, April 16.  If you want to make sure you are always up to date with Tom, Thalia and Chris, just follow avenger-nerd-mom on WordPress and stories are sent directly to you!

Click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia

Tom feels as if he’s entered into a parallel universe or discovered an alter ego of his. It isn’t just the clothes, though he does feel different in his red-and-blue plaid shirt and black jeans. He’s picked the shirt because it looked awfully comfortable and because he couldn’t get the image of Thalia with her cowboy boots out of his head. To brace himself against the biting cold, he’s wearing a navy T-shirt beneath the shirt and a quilted navy coat with a zip. He had half a mind to go for cowboy boots himself, but part of him was scared he’d just look like an idiotic wanna-be Yankee mixed with a stiff Englishman. So he opted for his go-to solution, the well-worn grey suede shoes that he loves to combine with basically any casual or even semi-formal outfit.

Thalia has already glanced at the plaid shirt more than once, and the approval in her eyes – turning to quite a lot more than interest when he opens a few buttons in the toasty warm museum – feels like a soothing caress. It makes him feel more at ease, ready to let her play tour guide and boss him around a little.

Since they have embarked on this journey through the city, she’s been pointing out landmarks and sharing little snippets that he stores away in a corner of his knowledge-hungry brain for future reference.

The museum is amazing. The building itself caught his attention when he Googled things to see in the city, with its imposing reddish brown façade and half-round side wing full of windows. He listens happily to Thalia sharing some backstory while they make their way inside. Tom chuckles at the way she occasionally bumps him as they move through the holiday crowds.  They’re walking close enough for their hands to brush, and on an impulse, he laces his fingers with hers.

She shoots him a glance and lowers her lashes, smiling.

He doesn’t want to let go of Thalia’s hand, and she seems just as happy to let him hold it. Off and on, they look at each other instead of the exhibits, and it feels like a real date, with all the cares in the world a million miles away. She’s wearing warm black tights with a denim skirt. To match his outfit–which he’d revealed with a spur-of-the-moment selfie to prove to himself as much as her that he really was in Chicago–she’s also opted for a plaid shirt, hers in different shades of blue that match her skirt and coat. And of course, her trusty cowboy boots make today’s outfit complete.

Once they’ve had their history fill in general, Thalia enthusiastically pulls him aside to show him one of the world’s largest costume collections. Tom entertains her by imagining little tales for the astonishing historical clothes on display, and they get quite a bit of side eye from other visitors for all their whispering and laughing.

They round off the experience with a hearty brunch at the café on the ground floor.

Pushing his chair back from the table, Tom asks, “What now?” glowing with an overdose of happiness that is partly museum-induced, partly food-induced and most definitely Thalia-induced.

He can’t find words for how wonderful it is to share these magical moments with her, away from the whole professor-and-student sword that’s usually dangling over their heads.

Thalia drinks the last of her coffee. “Well, I’m pretty sure you did all your touristy homework and have figured out a whole list of things you are planning to tick off. Am I right or am I right?”

Tom throws his head back and guffaws. “You know me entirely too well, darling.”

With a flourish, he pulls an actual list out of his pocket, grinning at her exaggerated eye roll. He smoothes the crinkled paper out on the table.

When Thalia leans closer to get a good look, he acts on instinct again and kisses her. It’s hardly more than a gentle peck, though he deepens it a little when her lips part, delighting in her sweet sigh. He lets the tip of his tongue brush over her full lips before pulling back.

The look of surprise and joy on her face momentarily lets his mood nose-dive. This, this right there is what she should have. A man who can date her, take her out and spoil her properly. A man who devotes all of his time to her and who will march right into that house and face her family bravely because he intends to stick with her through thick and thin.

Determined not to let the real world burst his giddy bubble, Tom slides a finger down the list.

“Which item can you recommend?”

She concentrates, her forehead puckering in a slight frown. As usual, she’s willing to dedicate 100% of herself into whatever needs doing, whether it’s studies or showing a secret lover around town.

“The Adler Planetarium is amazing,” she says thoughtfully, tugging on a strand of hair until he pulls it out of her grip and curls it around his fingers. “Their Sky Theater offers you virtual-reality trips through space and time which are seriously mind boggling. And if you’re really lucky, you can meet one of the top-notch researchers who are responsible for the museum.”

“Oh, tempting.” Tom can feel himself getting all bouncy in his seat again, which reminds him of his sister Emma always telling him he’s somehow managed to trap a five year old in an adult’s body.

“The Museum of Science and Industry is another of my favorites,” she adds. “It’s got a restored U-505 German submarine, a simulated coal mine and a vintage diesel-electric train. Lots of action instead of only dusty exhibits.”

“Can’t we do both? I promise to keep my enthusiasm mostly bottled up and move quickly through all the halls.” Tom gives her his best puppy dog look, which makes her laugh and swat his arm none too gently.

“You’re a pain in the ass, Tom.”

She hasn’t called him Professor Hiddleston once today, and although it’s a turn-on to hear her do so, he’s rather glad because he wants to be plain Tom here.

Unable to resist temptation, he slides a hand to her knee and toys with the hem of her skirt while leaning close enough to speak into her ear. “As far as I recall, I haven’t been allowed close enough to your ass yet to cause any pain, other than the occasional light spanking. But if you feel inclined to change that…”

She makes a squeaky sound and knocks his hand off her leg, wagging a finger at his fit of giggles. “I swear, if you keep that up, I’ll happily let my family torture me again and leave you to your own devices in big, mean Chicago.”

But her eyes dance merrily, and she holds her hand out to him when she gets up from the chair.

“Now stop acting like a teenager, we’ve got two items to cross off your list.”

“Darling, I have a mental list you should consider sometime as well then.”

Her eyes grow wide as his words sink in and he throws his head back in laughter, quickly clearing their table before wrapping his arm around her shoulder to make their exit.


They visit both the Museum of Science and Industry at Hyde Park and the Adler Planetarium with its domed roof that reminds Tom a little of a study trip to Berlin in Germany, several years ago. By the time they are done, Thalia grumbles good-naturedly about wearing holes into the soles of her boots, and Tom is bouncing with another energy boost because the thought of trying out local food is so tempting.

“Don’t laugh, love, but I’m hungry again.  What do you recommend?” he asks. “I’m starving and I want to try absolutely everything Chicago is famous for.”

Thalia gives him another of her eye rolls, hooking her arm through his to pull him to a bus stop.

“Oh my god, that metabolism of yours!  I’m jealous!” She shakes her head in disbelief.  “Well, Chicago IS famous for food, so brace yourself for the experience of a lifetime.”

She holds up her free hand, counting off on her fingers, “We have deep-dish pizza, which is pure heaven and I haven’t found any like it out East. There’s the Chicago-style hot dog with all the fixings… And all sorts of high-end cuisine stuff if you think it’s below your gentleman status to eat what everyone does.”

Tom snickers and gives her butt a light slap. “I’ve heard about the hot dogs, actually. Weren’t they a result of the Great Depression?” She nods and he continues. “What’s on them?”

“My favorite is just the standard version, with an all-beef hot dog on a steamed poppy seed bun. It’s topped with yellow mustard, relish, tomato wedges, chopped onions, pickle, hot peppers and celery salt.”

With a groan, he pulls her closer. “Okay, I need one of these like I need air to breathe. Lead the way, oh heroic, merciful tour guide, and prevent my death of starvation.”

They take the bus and end up at Portillo’s, googling its impressive history and success story while waiting for the food.

Stuffed with hot dogs, but still drooling over their dessert of strawberry shortcake and chocolate éclair cake, they manage small talk between bites.

“So, haven’t seen much of the US since you arrived here?” Thalia inquires after he’s fed her with a forkful of chocolatey delight.

“No, haven’t had the time yet.” Tom lets her feed him in return, staring into her eyes while suggestively licking his lips, pleased to see her hand wobble a little. “I’ve been around the world a bit, though.”

“Oh, tell me more.”

He shrugs modestly. “Mostly Europe during my youth. Spain, France, Italy, Russia. A couple of years ago, I accompanied some colleagues to Germany.”

“What about the rest of Britain? Or do the English make it a point to snobbishly ignore their neighbors?”

He wagged his fork at her and relishes his last bite before answering. “I visited Scotland with my father once. And my mother took my sisters and me to Ireland when we were still young.”

His face clouds over momentarily at memories of a childhood that had been anything but easy but was mixed with enough happy incidents to not bother him too much now. At least he hadn’t carried any serious scars of his parents’ divorce over into adulthood…though he should probably rethink his rules on relationships.

“Oh, and I flew to India for my sister’s wedding,” he adds with a smile, deliberately pulling himself back to the presence. “That was just…surreal and truly beautiful.”

Thalia smiles back at him and entwines her fingers with his when he reaches for her hand.

“And you?” he wants to know. “You’ve got the whole world waiting for you. Where do you want to go?”

She screws up her face in thought, as if there’s too much to consider.

“Everywhere,” she answers with a laugh.  “I’ve got to finish my degree, but fortunately it could take me all the places I could never afford to go on my own.  I’ve applied to internships in Paris, Cairo, Athens and Rome for museum work and archeological digs.  I’m just waiting each day for the right phone call.  There’s a box of dusty clothes ready to go in the back of the closet, aching for more dig dirt,” she jokes.

Tom leans forward and caresses her cheek with his other hand, scooting his chair closer to hers and resting his leg against hers.  “I hate the idea of you being so far away.”

Her head drops, her hair falling around her, but her blush is unmistakeable. She seems at a loss for words and it endears her even more to him. Dammit, Thomas. This trip was the best worst idea ever…

She grabs the ticket from the table and the two tussle over who will pay the bill. Tom insists that she’s already playing tour guide so he absolutely must pacify his inner gentleman by paying for lunch.

“Fine… But I’d like you to let me take care of you sometimes too, I’m not totally broke you know.”  His scowl changes her thought and she forges on.  “What’s next on your list, Mister?” Thalia wants to know, still pouting at her defeat.

“You know what, why don’t you suggest something?” He smiles at her. “As I said before, today’s in your hands, bills excluded.”

She smiles back. “Millennium Park is kind of a no-brainer, despite the weather. Want to give it a go?”

“Sure, that’s where the Bean is, right?!”

She laughs at his enthusiasm, bundling up to brave the cold Chicago air. They make it there in no time, discovering that a lot of people are bracing the cold to get photos in front of the iconic Cloud Gate sculpture with its metallic bean form and cloud-reflecting surface. Tom takes a few selfies with Thalia, debating with himself whether to share these lovely memories with his family or not, and deciding against it with a heavy heart.

As happy as he is today, he keeps realizing one thing that obscures his inner sunshine momentarily: In a world with less prejudice, Thalia and he would make a great couple. But as things are, a normal relationship is out of the question and not something either of them is ready for anyway. He knows he should wish for her to have someone else to share such joyous moments with—but he doesn’t. He wants her to himself for a bit longer at least.  They take their own sweet time, walking the city streets, giggling and window shopping, dragging out their stolen moment together.

Close to evening, Thalia takes him up on the 360 Chicago, formerly known as the John Hancock Observatory where the 94th floor – 1,000 feet up – offers a view for miles and miles, across four states. They dine up there at the restaurant, and again Tom can’t resist doing all the little things proper couples should. He feeds her and teases her, touches her as much as he can, asks her personal questions and stores away each morsel of information as if his life might one day depend on the right answer.

“Tom, I’ve had a wonderful day.  I hate to see it end, but I really should be getting back home.  There’s a train switch and I don’t want to miss it.”  Her eyes glisten in the low light of the restaurant. Her tone is wistful and tells him what he wishes to know.

Taking her hand in his across the table he runs his thumb over the back of her hand.  “Thalia, darling, if you’re willing to risk it with your family, I’d love for you to stay with me tonight.”

Her eyes search his, search his face, looking for what, he doesn’t know. She brushes a floppy curl from his forehead and runs her thumb across his scarf, and he leans into her touch, craving more. Slowly her grin turns up. “Let me make a call to my stepmother. She’ll know how to soothe things over with Dad.”


Nestled in the warmth of the back seat of the cab, Tom is pleasantly surprised when Thalia takes the initiative to kiss him, at first unsure and timid.  He tugs on her scarf, pulling her closer and acknowledging his need.  Her hand grips his thigh as the kisses grow more heated.  He bites back a chuckle at the cab driver watching in the rearview mirror while they make out like two lusty teenagers.  The ride is entirely too short and by the time they make it to the hotel, he wants nothing more than to lose himself inside her and forget the rest of the world.

Click here for Chapter 12 Tutoring

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando