The Math Tutor

OoO

"Soo . . . ready for tomorrow?"

I roll my eyes as I flop on my bed next to my best friend, Alice. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Aww come on. Don't be like that." She nudges my leg with her knee. "After this semester, there's only one more to go until we're finished with this place. That's exciting, right?"

"Yeah, it is," I admit. After three years at this stupid university, I'm ready for it to be over. But I have a hurdle to cross that Alice doesn't.

Math.

Only one math class is required for my major, but I've been putting if off since I started here. I sucked at math in high school so I'm pretty sure I'm going to suck at it in college, too.

"You know," Alice begins, "if you're worried about math, you could always get a tutor."

As usual, Alice knows what I'm thinking. And her advice sounds promising.

"I guess I'll see how the first day goes. Then we'll talk tutors. I could be building this up in my head for nothing."

"Good plan. I mean, I loved my first math class so I'm sure you'll be fine."

OoO

Alice is a dirty liar.

My math class started at nine, and by nine fifteen I knew I was in trouble.

So now I sit in the campus coffee shop, drowning my sorrows in a very large latte and an apple danish while I try to make sense of everything the professor went over in an hour.

Even the syllabus is confusing, and the first lesson today was completely over my head. This isn't basic algebra. This is a foreign language. I'd probably be better off taking latin or some other dead language. Or better yet, this one could just die. In a fire. Now.

.

Alice senses my bad mood when we're back at our apartment after a day full of classes. She makes dinner and doesn't even ask for my help.

"How was your day, Esme?" she asks cautiously as we're stuffing our faces with fajitas.

I don't even dignify her question with a response.

"That bad, huh?"

Again, I simply look at her.

"Welllll . . . I can help you find a tutor? Maybe you'll forgive me then?"

I laugh at her hopeful look. She's impossible to stay mad at. "There's nothing to forgive, but I definitely need your help finding a tutor. I'm lost and it's only been one day."

"I'm on it," she says right away.

Hopefully she won't let me down with this.

OoO

I don't expect Alice to come through as quickly as she does, but by Tuesday afternoon, I have a name and a phone number.

"Carlisle Cullen?" I question. "How do you know this guy?"

"Oh, he's one of Jasper's friends. Total math genius. And he's free every day if you need him."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. Call him. Jasper said he's super nice, and he helped him pass math, too."

Well, that's something. I remember when Alice and her boyfriend too algebra together in our first semester. Jasper struggled for a while but still managed to make it out with a B. If this guy could help him, maybe there's hope for me.

.

I text Carlisle that night, but he doesn't respond until the next day when I'm walking out of yet another depressing hour of torture. He agrees to meet me whenever I'm free, and since I'm certain I can't waste anymore time, I ask if he can meet now.

Twenty minutes later, I'm sitting at the library across from the most gorgeous man I've ever seen in my life. His blonde hair is perfectly messy, his blue eyes sparkle every time he looks at me, and he has one dimple when he smiles. He's dressed casually in jeans and a polo, toned but not too muscular, and basically just all around delicious.

His x and y talk is going in one ear and out the other because all I can think about is getting him in my bed and doing naughty things with him. To him. For him.

This genius plan is backfiring.

I finally avert my eyes from his beautiful face and try to focus on connecting what's on my paper to what he's saying. Another half an hour passes and I'm still lost.

"I'm sorry." I sigh as he has to answer a question for the third time. "I just . . . math isn't my thing."

"That's okay," he says with a good-natured shrug. "English isn't my thing. But I won't give up if you won't."

"I can't give up." I really can't. Yeah, I have one more semester after this but I'm not putting that stress on myself. I'm not playing the pass or not graduate on time game.

"Well then I can't either. Let's do this: you go home and look over this and try to solve some of the homework by yourself. We can meet again tomorrow and go over any questions so you'll be ready for Friday's class. Sound good?"

I nod. He sounds good. His voice makes me want to get naked.

I'm screwed.

OoO

A month passes with Carlisle and me in our routine. We meet for an hour at the library everyday and I slowly begin to understand the language of algebra.

I also begin to understand Carlisle Cullen. Not only is he very nice to look at, but he's also just very nice period. He's patient but never boring. Whenever he notices that I'm zoning out more than usual, either from being overwhelmed by letters and numbers or from staring at his dimple, he makes jokes or does something entirely too goofy for public. I've never laughed so much in the presence of a textbook as I do with him.

And he actually wants me to pass this class. Possibly more than I want me to pass this class.

I'm starting to feel a bit more confident with my abilities, even more so after we receive the grades on our first test.

"Look!" I say, slapping my paper down in front of him.

He looks up at me, raising an eyebrow as he slowly unfolds the paper. He glances down and when his eyes meet mine again, they're sparkling and happy and beautiful.

"An 84? Esme this is amazing! Congratulations!" He jumps up and then I'm in his arms as he hugs me. I almost forget to breathe but then I'm glad that I remember. He smells incredible, and I don't want to let him go.

Unfortunately, I have to so he doesn't get suspicious.

"Thank you," I say once we're seated beside each other. "There's no way I could have done that without you. I'm pretty sure I don't pay you enough for miracles."

He shakes his head. "You understood the material. I just helped. You deserve this credit. Honestly, I didn't think you were going to do this well."

"Hey!" I playfully punch him which makes him laugh. "Thanks for the confidence."

He grins. "You're welcome. So let's celebrate."

"With what?" I ask, silently hoping for something involving kissing or nakedness or something fun like that.

"Fraction review."

OoO

"I don't know what to do!" I complain to Alice as I pace around the living room. It's been another month of my routine with Carlisle and he just gets even more attractive by the day. "He's driving me crazy!"

"You could just talk to him, you know."

"What?"

"That thing you do with your mouth. Talk. You see him five days a week, after all."

"But he's my tutor!" I whine. "What if I mess everything up between us and then I fail math on top of it?"

"Or maybe you'll pass math and wind up with a boyfriend," Alice counters. "Just do it, Es! Jasper said Carlisle talks about you all the time so obviously you're making an impression."

"But you said it yourself. I see him five days a week. Maybe he just has nothing else to talk about."

"Do you hear yourself right now?" Alice asks with a laugh. "You've gone crazy. Ask him or don't ask him. Whatever floats your goat. But if you wear a hole in the carpet from this pacing, you're paying for it."

With a huff, I throw myself onto the couch next to her. "This is so complicated."

"Not really." She guides my head to her shoulder. "You're a great person and so is he. Obviously there's some mutual attraction. Someone needs to make the first move, and I think that someone should be you."

.

I try to listen to Alice's advice which results in me being even more distracted than usual. If Carlisle notices, he doesn't say anything.

I barely make a B on the next test, but I'm happy with my 80. So happy that I add my own message under the grade for when I show Carlisle.

Dinner at my place tonight at 7?

Alice is spending the night with Jasper so I know I'll have the apartment to myself. Plus it's Friday and I don't have any plans for tomorrow in case I have a reason to be up late. I'm praying there's a reason.

I'm not nearly as cocky this time as I slide the paper across the table to him. What if he says yes? What if he says no? What if he just laughs at me?

I'm too busy worrying to notice that he's staring at me with a shy smile on his face.

"Should I bring anything?"

"Uhh what?" I ask, completely caught off guard.

"To dinner tonight. Should I bring anything?" he repeats.

"Oh." The realization sinks in, and I can't contain my smile. "So you're coming?"

"Sure. Unless you were just kidding . . . "

"No!" I say right away. "No, no kidding at all. And no, you don't have to bring anything. Just yourself."

"Then my self will be there."

OoO

I decide to make a simple lasagna for dinner. Both because I know my lasagna is good and because it doesn't require much supervision while cooking which gives me time to worry about what I'm going to wear.

I try on eight different outfits before deciding on some black leggings and a long gray sweater. Simple and comfortable but still cute. Or at least I hope so anyway. Styling my hair takes even more effort. I want it to look like I didn't spend much time on it but that takes nearly as much time as choosing an outfit did.

When I'm as satisfied as I'm going to be with my appearance, it's time for the lasagna to come out of the oven. As it cools, I throw together a salad and warm some Italian bread. I decide against garlic. I've been dreaming about Carlisle's mouth for months now. Garlic is not going to ruin it for me.

My anxiety rises the closer it gets to seven. What if he changes his mind? What if I gave him bad directions? What if he gets kidnapped?

The questions and improbable situations fly through my brain and are only interrupted by a knock on the door.

Seeing his smiling face on the other side is enough to make me forget about my anxiety and alien abduction stories. He's really here. And wearing jeans and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I might not survive the night.

"Hi," I greet with my own smile.

"Hi. You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You look beautiful, too. Err . . . handsome. Very handsome."

He chuckles and thanks me, and it takes me a few seconds to realize that we're standing in my doorway. I gesture for him to enter and then lead him to the kitchen.

"Dinner smells great," he says. "Oh and I brought you these." He hands me a paper bag, and as soon as I look inside, I'm smiling again. It's a package of my favorite chocolate chip cookies that I usually eat while being tutored. I'm too lazy to make homemade cookies this semester so these have been a lifesaver.

"Thank you so much, Carlisle. That was so sweet of you."

"You're welcome. Hopefully you'll share them with me later?"

"Who says I'm going to share?"

He gasps and places his hand over his heart. "You mean you're not going to share with the guy who's helping you pass math? You wound me!"

"Okay, okay." I roll my eyes but inside, I'm flailing. Carlisle is making jokes. In my kitchen. With me. Without the quadratic formula haunting us. This is pretty close to heaven. "Maybe I'll share with you. But let's eat first while it's still hot."

We sit at the table and eat, talking in between bites. Making conversation has never been difficult for us before and the new environment isn't changing that now. Carlisle compliments the meal several times and eats two servings of lasagna. Pride wells in me, knowing that he likes my food. Maybe he likes other things, too.

Soon, we're sitting together on the couch with two glasses of milk, sharing cookies and laughing at each other's stories. Being with Carlisle is easy. Fun. It's just . . . perfect.

"You have a little something there," he says mid-laugh, reaching toward me. Suddenly, he's touching the side of my mouth, brushing cookie crumbs off.

But I'm no longer laughing. Or breathing. I'm too busy focused on the fact that he's touching me. Finally.

He stops laughing too, and his sparkly eyes lock with mine.

"Esme," he whispers, and that's all it takes for me to attack him.

Pushing the cookies out of the way, I crawl into his lap, straddling him as I press my lips to his. He tastes like chocolate and man and amazing.

If he's surprised by my attack, he doesn't show it. Instead, his hands find their way to my hips as his mouth is just as demanding against mine.

My hands weave through his hair, and when he moans into my mouth, I can't stop the shudder that wracks through my body.

When he pulls his mouth and tongue from mine, I almost want to pout but then he starts kissing down my neck and I'm the one moaning. "God, you're incredible," he whispers in between hot kisses.

"You . . . too," I mumble, gasping as he reaches the spot behind my ear. "Yes, Carlisle."

"Wait," he says, breaking my haze. His hands grip me a little more firmly, and I realize I've started to grind against him. I close my eyes and release his hair, letting my head fall against his shoulder as I catch my breath.

"Sorry," I mumble, embarrassed that I lost myself so much.

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight. "I'm not. Just a little surprised that you obviously feel the same way about me as I feel about you."

"Head-over-heels?" I say against his chest, knowing he probably won't understand me.

But his "Yep" proves that he does.

"What?" I lift my head so I can see his eyes. "You . . . what?"

With a smile, he cradles my face in his hands. "Do you know how hard it's been — in more ways than one — to focus on tutoring you these past couple of months? You're so beautiful and funny and smart. And you do this thing where you chew on the end of your pencil when you're thinking. God, you're just . . . you. I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm glad the semester is close to being over because I'm not sure how much longer I can be alone with you and still do math."

I'm sure my mouth has fallen open because I can barely believe what he's saying. And since I'm not sure how to put my overjoyed response into words, I kiss him again.

I lose myself in him until he stops us again, and this time I do pout which makes him laugh.

"As much as I want to nibble that lip, I did stop us for another reason last time. Exactly how far do you want this to go? Don't get me wrong, I can't tell you how happy I am that we're doing this, but we should probably figure this out first."

I hate to admit that he's right, but he is. As much as I want to keep going and going and going, we do need to figure this out first. After all, this is our first date. Or is it?

"I don't normally do this on a first date," I begin, and he nods.

"I don't either. But this . . . "

"Yeah. This . . . is different. I feel like we've been together for way longer than this."

"We sort of have. Just not exactly like this."

"So is it too fast?" I ponder. I realllllly want to get naked with him tonight. Really really. But only if we're on the same page.

He shrugs. "I guess other people might think so. But I feel like maybe we've waited long enough for this. Why wait any longer?"

Why wait, indeed.

This time when my lips and tongue meet his, he knows better than to stop me. Only a few minutes later, my sweater and his shirt find their way to the floor, and our hands are roaming.

Then I'm under him. I'm not sure how it happens but I'm not going to question a good thing.

But when we almost fall off the couch, it's no longer all good.

"Bedroom's last door on the right," I murmur between kisses, not willing to stop for any longer.

"Yeah?"

I nod. There's no going back now. My panties are ruined for the night so he might as well take them off.

He wastes no time in scooping me up and carrying me toward my bedroom. On the way, we mumble through the important things. I'm clean, he's clean, I'm protected, he has a condom in his pocket, yada, yada, yada. Responsibility is great and all, but at this point, I just want him naked and inside me.

As soon as he places me on the bed, I pull my leggings and bra off, leaving my panties for him. He just stands and watches until I scoot back to my pillow and pat the spot beside me. That seems to break him out of his daze and he quickly sheds his jeans before crawling in beside me, pulling the covers up over us.

We've slowed down and for a minute, neither of us makes any noise. We just share smiles and slow touches. And definitely more kisses.

"There's no going back for me after this," he says as if warning me. "You're stuck with me. Even after math class is over."

"Good because you're stuck with me, too." That's a promise from me. There's no way I can let Carlisle go.

"Let me make you feel good first?" he asks almost shyly.

I answer by placing his hand on the top of my panties.

Instead of taking my permission and going for it, he brings both of our hands back up. But I'm not complaining. I don't think anyone could complain if Carlisle Cullen was kissing them and teasing their nipples. His slow torture feels so good and soon my hips are moving off the bed, trying to convince his hand to go lower.

He chuckles softly. "Impatient, aren't we? Don't worry, baby. I'll make you feel good."

As soon as he pulls my panties off and finally touches me, I know better than to worry. Carlisle knows what he's doing.

I moan as he makes fast circles over my clit before slowing down and pushing two fingers inside me. He goes back and forth, teasing me into a frenzy of needing to come but enjoying every second of waiting. "Carlisle, pleas-" I can't even finish my request before he speeds up his motions, causing me to finish. I grip his shoulders tightly, closing my eyes as I ride his hand and feel so, so, much.

"Oh my God," I whisper after I finally come down from the high. "Carlisle, you have skills."

"And you look so beautiful when you come," he says, kissing me softly.

I giggle and turn to snuggle next to him. "I'm sure you do too, so let's find out."

My hand wanders down his chest, feeling the soft hair of his happy trail and he helps me remove his boxers and then there's nothing between us. I finally reach my intended destination, and he's hard and smooth and definitely big enough for me to have a lot of fun. I tease him for a minute, just to return the favor, but before he can bring his hand down to stop me, I'm straddling him.

Straddling him with clothes on was fun, but there are no words to describe how it feels without clothes.

"You feel so good already," he says, reaching up to place his hands on my cheeks and bring me down for a kiss. We both moan as my position changes and can't resist rubbing together as we kiss.

"Now," I murmur as I nibble on his top lip, and together we reach down to help guide him into me.

We groan loudly as he fills me. It's been a while for me, but it doesn't take me long to get used to how perfect he feels inside of me.

No words are shared as he smoothly thrusts and plays with my breasts. I meet his hips with mine, loving how my senses are overwhelmed. I can see his face filled with pleasure, smell the combination of his cologne and him, still taste his kisses, and now feel every move he makes. It's so much more than I ever imagined it could be.

I have no intention of getting off again, but as I lean back slightly and his fingers find my clit, I feel the familiar building. So I chase it. And I don't have to chase it for very long before it sneaks up on me.

"Yes, yes, yes," I chant, falling forward since I'm not able to hold myself up any longer.

"Almost there," he pants out, holding on to my hips as he thrusts quickly. He comes with a low groan, and I make sure I lift my head to see it. Just as I suspect, he's beautiful.

We lie together for a few minutes unmoving as he traces patterns over my bare back and kisses the top of my head.

"Yep," he finally says. "You're stuck with me. Maybe even forever."

"Good. Want to shower and spend the night?"

"You want an overnight study session?" he teases as I roll off him and stand.

I nod and reach for his hand. "I do, but we won't be studying math."

OoO

I probably owe Alice more than the batch of homemade cookies I make for her when she comes home the next day.

The rest of the semester passes quickly. I don't do as well on my last two math tests, but Carlisle and I sort of lose focus. Or rather, our focus shifts. To hands and fingers and tongues and orgasms.

By the time I take the final, I don't even care. I gladly take my C for the class and my "I love you" from Carlisle.

I still hate math, but I'll never regret getting a tutor. Especially a tutor who's gorgeous, sweet, perfect, and has amazing bedroom skills.

Maybe Alice isn't such a dirty liar after all.

It's my birthday today, so I thought maybe I'd share a little gift with everyone. =)

Since I graduated back in August, I wrote this for MelissaMargaret when she started back to class. And I figured everyone might enjoy this Esme and her sexy math tutor.

And for any PL readers who might be reading this, an update is coming soon! Promise!

I don't own Twilight or these characters. Unfortunately. ;)