Free Going the Distance by Julianna Keyes Page B

pretty and dainty at the same time.
    “Hi, Honor. Come on in. We’re just having lunch.”
    Honor took a tentative step into the room, sniffing. “What…What is that?” she asked, gesturing out the window at the trunk basking in the sunlight. A few strips of newspaper had already come free and hung off like dripping gray moss.
    Olivia stood to join her to study the tree. “It’s a tree. Or it will be. For my class.”
    “A tree?”
    “It’s not finished yet.”
    “Hmm. Yes.”
    A few more teachers trailed out of the mah-jongg room and studied the tree, looking dubious, amused, and alarmed. More than a few snickered, though not all maliciously. Olivia pursed her lips. They’d see. It wasn’t finished yet.
    “This is Ritchie,” she said, gesturing between Honor and the architect. “He helped design it. He knows what he’s doing.”
    “Ritchie?” Honor echoed, looking at him for the first time.
    Ritchie cleared his throat and stuck out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
    Honor hesitated, then grasped his fingers. “Nice to meet you, too.”
    Olivia tried not to laugh. She’d taught her students how to introduce themselves in January, and their practice dialogues had gone a lot like this. Only…not quite like this. Because Ritchie and Honor were gazing at each other with more than the strained discomfort and amusement her students had displayed. They looked…interested.
    “Ritchie is an architect,” she said. “He works at the project down the road.”
    “Yes,” Honor said, nodding. “I know it.” It was the only project in this part of Lazhou that had foreign workers; everybody knew it.
    “You’re a teacher here, Honor?” Ritchie asked, though that was obvious, too.
    “Yes. I teach the same year as Olivia. She is a good teacher.”
    Olivia glanced up, surprised. No one here had ever complimented her on anything other than her looks. Your hair, so yellow! Your eyes, so big! Very pretty! Maybe a little fat.
    “Thanks, Honor.”
    “You are welcome.” She and Ritchie were still flicking shy glances at each other, and now a few of the braver teachers meandered closer, studying both the tree and the strange man. Olivia had a fleeting image of Jarek standing here, towering over everybody, intimidating them with his stern glare. He’d never been to the school but he had learned its name, and her middle name, and a few other things that said he wasn’t trying to be an uncaring asshole all the time, it was just his nature. But he staunchly refused to talk much about himself, so she’d settled for him being a decent person who made an effort, and chosen not to dwell on the fact that she regularly slept with a man whose middle name she did not know. Well, slept wasn’t the word for it. They didn’t sleep, and he didn’t sleep over. Ever. And he never invited her to his apartment, either, not once. She rather suspected he just didn’t want to schlep her back to her place in the middle of the night, since he remained convinced that she’d fall in love with him and beg to have his babies if they ate breakfast together.
    What he did obsess over, however, was how to make her orgasms better, constantly grilling her about what she wanted him to do. He swore up and down that he’d do anything, there was nothing she could ask outside of having him piss on her that he wouldn’t at least consider. She was both flattered and unnerved by his focus, but she didn’t know what the problem was. She liked sex in general, and sex with him in particular. She didn’t have any secret wants or desires she was afraid to express. There were times the build up to orgasm was promising, that she was sure it was leading up to the “big one” Jarek seemed intent to find. And then it didn’t work out. She still came; she wasn’t unsatisfied. But he was. And no matter how many questions he asked, she honestly didn’t have the answer to this one.
    She shook her head and tuned back into the conversation. The teachers were