THE TUTOR
By K D Grace
I’m
very excited to announce that for the first time ever, The Tutor is on sale for
99c in all ebook
formats. Go ahead, have a sizzling Spring fling! Find out why when touch is
impossible, intimacy can become a powerful work of art.
For an entire
month, beginning April 4th, Lex and Kelly’s story is on sale for
your reading pleasure. So go ahead and enjoy a journey to an intimacy that will
totally surprise you.
The Tutor
Blurb:
Struggling
writer, Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and
recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks
out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly
terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional
behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala
exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely
haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that
the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues.
The press
feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her
to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go
back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling,
pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as
their sessions become more and more personal.
Buy Links:
Totally Bound
Publishing: https://www.totallybound.com/book/the-tutor
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2bV5Wak
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2n5nzvU
Excerpt:
18 + only Please
18 + only Please
“Was this
your idea or Dillon’s? Kelly asked, hoping to relax him.
“It was mine, after Andy told Dillon and he told me. I
thought it was something that I …” The muscles along Lex’s jaw looked as though
they were made out of iron, and a fine blush crawled up his neck tinting his
ears bright pink. “I’ve never touched a woman … in that way.” He forced a
laugh. “Obviously. I’ve …” the blush deepened and he avoided her gaze. “I’ve
put lube on some of the sculptures – you know — down there, but I … well it isn’t
the same.”
“The pears won’t be either,” she said, her heart suddenly
aching at the physical isolation this man endured on a daily basis, and it
wasn’t just her heart that ached, she felt his lack deep in her core. It had
been easier with Andy. She had been almost flippant with him. She was sorry for
that now. She spread one of the towels on the Queen Anne chair across from him
and settled herself onto it so they were facing each other. “The texture will
be different and with the pear there’ll be less give.” She dipped her fingers
in the bowl and rubbed the heavy juice between her index finger and her thumb.
“If you touch a woman, she’ll be much warmer.” She gave him a conspiratorial
smile. “You’ll be amazed at how warm and how soft she’ll be down there when
she’s ready to be touched. With Andy, this,” she nodded down to the pears, “was
improvisation, this was the best I could do under the circumstances, but a
woman, well a woman feels like nothing you’ve ever touched before.”
He was no longer avoiding her gaze. His eyes were locked on
her, and he was struggling to keep them on her face, she knew that; she
understood the urge for him to drop his eyes to the place of which she spoke,
the place with which she was so intimate, the place that couldn’t help but
respond to the topic, to the situation, to the strange intimacy they had shared
almost since the moment they’d met. “You can look, if you want,” she opened her
legs so that he could see the place in between clothed in black denim,
completely disguised and yet so very obvious. “And I’ll look at you too,” she
nodded down to his own jeans straining to contain him already. “It’s what men
and woman are naturally inclined to do when there’s a sexual attraction.”
With her heart hammering in her throat, she took one of the
pear halves into the cupped palm of her left hand, then she brought it down
between her spread thighs, feeling the juice of it run over her fingers and
drip onto the towel as she spread her legs a little farther and held her pam to
mimic the position of her vulva. “Touch it like a woman would touch it, and
you’ll always get it right.” She drug her index and middle finger up from the
bottom of the pear to the center and felt her own body respond in empathy. “The
pear has no folds, no secret valleys, no swollen flesh to be teased open, so
you’ll have to use your imagination with that.”
Lex gave a little moan soft and deep in his chest as he
shifted to make himself more comfortable. “I know the anatomy,” he said. “I’ve
watched porn and I’ve studied drawings. I know how it looks like it might feel.
I know the response it elicits.” His tongue flicked nervously over his upper
lip. “Of course that’s just acting, isn’t it?”
“Porn is about fantasy, about voyeurism, and it doesn’t
matter if it’s real if it gets you off. But when it is real,” she spread her
index and middle finger up the sides of the pear’s central opening, “if you’re
good, if your sensitive, you’ll feel the spasms of your lover’s orgasm, even
see them if you’re using your tongue; and you can feel them gripping at your
cock when your inside her. If you’re paying attention.
“The clitoris,” she laughed softly, “Well with Andy I used a
Ticktack, but he’s a chemistry major. He likes charts and graphs and periodic
tables. You’re an artist, you live in your imagination, so you don’t need a
Ticktack. Some women like the thumb stroking and circling while the other
fingers work inside. Some women like to use their fingers.” She demonstrated on
the pear, and Lex groaned. “It’s always best to ask and be sure.”
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