Show & Tell by Rhonda Nelson Page B

table, hike up that kurta and bury himself into the slick velvet heat of her body. Piston in and out of her until their simultaneous cries of release rent the air and he spilled his seed deep into the tight glove of her body.
    Clearly he’d lost his mind, to be having such thoughts about Savannah. They were here to do a job, nothing more, and yet he’d give everything he owned right now just to kiss her. Just to taste her. Just one small—
    â€œTime’s up,” Edgar called. “Now kiss your lover and we’ll adjourn for a break.”
    Kiss your lover…
    Knox groaned with giddy relief and quickly lowered his mouth to hers. To his immense delight, Savannah met him halfway and her mouth clung to his, fed greedily until nothing existed but the feel of her against him, the exquisite taste of her on his tongue.
    What the kiss lacked in finesse it more than made up for with passion. She lashed her arms about his neck and all but crawled up his body to get closer, ran her hands all over him, cupped his ass and growled her approval right into his mouth. She eagerly explored his mouth, slid her tongue around his, tasted the fleshy part of his lips. She nibbled and sucked, and it occurred to Knox that, at some pointin the near future, he’d like to have her do the same thing to his rod. She wriggled and writhed, alternately sighed and purred with pleasure and each little note of praise caused both of his heads to swell, particularly the one below his waist. It jutted impatiently against her.
    He might as well have jabbed her with a hot poker, for the way she abruptly tore her mouth from his and stepped back. With a frustrated huff, she looked up and glared at him. “Good grief, Knox,” she hissed. “You’re supposed to be impotent. Could you at least try to stay in character?”
    Knox blinked, astounded. In character? She’d been acting? Again?
    Savannah looked down at the front of his tented kurta. Her lips curled into that oh-so-familiar mocking smile. “Well, at least the premature ejaculator part looks real. You’ve got a huge wet spot on the front of your dress.”
    Mortified, Knox felt a blush creep up his neck. “It’s not a dress,” he ground out.
    Luckily the rest of the class had moved toward the refreshment table, which had been set up on the lawn. Only the Sheas lagged behind. To his further humiliation, the two of them noticed the evidence of his mortification and smiled knowingly.
    â€œI see you’ve made progress already,” Edgar said. “Embrace your healing, Knox,” Edgar encouraged with a fatherly clap on the shoulder. “There’s noshame in flaunting your seed. There is power in procreation.”
    Rupali gestured toward Savannah’s pearled nipples. “Likewise, Barbie,” she said mistily. “You should be proud of your puckered breasts. They await your lover’s kiss with tight invitation. Someday the milk of life will pour from those twin orbs. Flaunt them, as Edgar said.” She smiled serenely, cupped her own breasts reverently. “Embrace your femininity. Be proud of being a woman.”
    Having blushed to the roots of her hair, Savannah managed a strained smile and nodded mutely. The Sheas threaded their fingers together and walked away, presumably to offer more little bits of tantric wisdom to other students.
    Enjoying her discomfort, Knox smiled. “I see I’m not the only one who had a hard time staying in character.”
    Savannah closed her notebook and clipped her pen to the front. She gave him a blank look. “I’m sorry, what?”
    â€œStaying in character,” he repeated. “I’m not the only one who got hard.” He stared pointedly at her breasts.
    She gave him a frosty glare and her lips formed a withering smirk. “I was cold, you moron. What’s your excuse?”
    His eyes narrowed. “Your tongue was in my mouth.”
    â€œAnd less