EXCERPT Carly Neal stared at the big red “F” on her Human Anatomy exam and gritted her teeth. You’ve made it through four years of college. You can’t let this class break you. Her face grew hot. There was another test tomorrow, but if she didn’t do something drastic, she’d fail again. Professor Harold droned on. She glanced out the window into the early August sunshine, heat and light reflecting off every surface. The brilliance of the day brought a smile to her face. Anything was possible, wasn’t it? She hadn’t come this far to let some overbearing, self-important professor who couldn't make it in the medical field ruin her chances for a better life. What about a tutor? The guidance office had a list, but their rates were exorbitant. Maybe the professor knew someone he could recommend. After today's class, she would ask him. When class ended, the professor’s boring lecture still swirling in her head, Carly made a beeline for the front of the room. "Professor? May I talk with you for a moment?" "Ah, Miss Neal. I'm in a bit of a hurry. What is it?" "I'm not doing very well in your class, sir, and I'd like to do something about that before it's too late." "I am sure you would," Professor Harold said. "But I fear it’s already too late to stop the train wreck, Miss Neal. Perhaps you should have come to me sooner and showed some concern. Or better yet, perhaps you should have spent more time studying." Carly clenched her fists at her side. As if she would have come to him for help if she hadn’t already exhausted every other avenue. Professor Harold was a mean, belittling jerk, but getting in his face was not going to help achieve her goal. She forced a smile. "I have been studying, sir, but I'm not making much headway. I was wondering if you could recommend an inexpensive tutor." "I believe we’re past that point," Professor Harold said as he stacked a pile of books on his desk then pulled on a hat that he probably thought looked good but Carly thought was the finishing touch to his “pompous ass” costume. A low baritone cut in. "Maybe not, professor." Carly turned toward the voice that came from the back of the auditorium. A handsome guy pushed himself off the wall and strode toward them. Wearing jeans and a white short-sleeved T-shirt, he appeared to be about her age. "Brock Larson, I had no idea you were here today!" The professor stepped around Carly and extended a hand. "I'm not surprised. You were very involved in your lecture. Just like always." Carly had to agree, with the words if not the sentiment. Professor Harold was way too impressed with hearing himself talk to notice much of anything else. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Brock?" "I stopped by to check if you'd received the paperwork I forwarded last week. If you can see your way clear to providing me a good recommendation, I'm quite sure I can secure the position with Novas Times I've coveted since graduation. Your name goes a long way, sir." "Well, Brock, I'm not sure about if I can help you. I have my reputation to consider, my name as you put it. I am very particular about whom I write recommendations. As much as I like you personally, I can’t gamble my reputation." Brock's laugh startled her as it echoed through the room, perhaps because she'd expected something quite different. A punch in the professor’s fat face would not have been out of line, nor would it have been unpleasant to watch. The crinkle around his eyes, though, proved it. He was genuinely amused by the professor. Well, that makes one of us. "Professor, let's talk turkey. You love to gamble, and I know it. How much of my money did you win last year in all those poker games?" She watched the two men for a moment then sighed as the professor turned toward Brock. He no longer appeared to care she was in the room. This is a waste of time. A conversation between a student poker-buddy suck up and his mentor is more than I can stomach at this point. I’ll figure this out somehow... She turned to go. "Wait a minute. Miss Neal, was it?" His voice had a sharp edge, almost as if he were used to giving orders. Nothing in the words suggested a command, but the sound compelled her to stop and listen. "Yes?" "I have a wager for you, professor.” He gestured toward her. “Miss Neal here is searching for a tutor to pass your class.” His eyes bore into hers, and she could see trouble brewing behind that crystal blue gaze. “Correct?” She nodded slowly. “Yes.” "What she needs is a miracle,” the professor said. “If she doesn't get perfect scores on the next two tests, she will fail. What does that have to do with your getting a recommendation from me?" Professor Harold hadn't even bothered to look at her when he spoke. Carly felt her blood burn in her cheeks. She could still pass this class—there had to be a way. And when it was over, she would tell him just what part of her human anatomy he could kiss. She folded her arms over her chest. "Only someone abundantly intelligent and profusely motivated could help a student pull their grades up that much in such a short time, would you not agree?” The professor grunted. “The kind of person you could recommend for any job?” Brock continued. His easy stance contrasted with the professor’s stiff posture. Whatever he was proposing, he was confident. A slow, creeping unease moved over her. “I’ll tell you what, sir. If I tutor Miss Neal, and she aces the next two tests, you give me the recommendation. That’s the bet." The professor laughed derisively, and the sound vibrated in her chest. The smile crossing his face increased her apprehension. "And if she doesn't ace the next two tests--you agree to work for me next year at the rate I offered you last semester?" Brock stared at her for another moment then turned to the professor and held out his hand. "That’s a deal, sir. When’s the next test?" “Are you sure this is what you want?” he mumbled again, his voice vibrating against her lips. “I won’t want to stop if you...” “I don’t want you to stop.” “The exam…I’m supposed to tutor you.” “Tutor me like this.” The statement was spoken clear and low, but the words hummed through her. Hours ago, they’d met, and now, she knew his bones, but wanted to learn of his flesh, his very being through to the core of him. Somehow, in the space of hours, she’d discovered something—not about him, but about herself. The human body, with all its bones and sinew and muscle, with its organs and blood and life—it was meant for this. With the certain knowledge of the truth of this came conviction: nothing could stop her from having him, least of all a self-important professor’s testing schedule. She pressed her finger against his hips, rubbing her thumbs gently over the bones below his waist. “And these are the ilium…” “Iliac crest,” he said, taking her hands into his and sliding them lower. “Acetabulum, ischium, and pubis.” His breath caught on the last word, because her hands were now cupping his groin, her fingers pressing upward against the low bone on his pelvis. “I need to see,” she whispered. He lowered his zipper and slid the jeans and briefs down his thighs, letting them fall to his feet and stepping out of them. Placing her hands on his erection, he squeezed them. “Touch me, Carly.” She did touch him, touched every part of him, the rough texture of the hair around his groin, the rigid length of smooth skin along his shaft, the velvety softness of the head of his penis. Her eyes locked with his as her fingers slid along his length, taking the girth of him into her grip, feeling the power of her touch to make his eyes flash. She slid to the floor and touched the tip of him with her tongue, circling slowly, feeling the heat burning between her legs as she gazed at the beauty of his body. He stroked her hair lightly, then tilted her face up to his. Bending over at the waist, he kissed her, lifting her up and into his arms, then carried her back to the sofa behind the desk where stacks of textbooks lay spread across the surface. “I want to be inside you,” he said as he unfastened her jeans and let them fall to the floor. “If you kept doing that, I was going to take you right on the table.” “But you don’t want to do that.” She slid her hands over his shoulders, then pressed her pelvis into his. “What do you want?” He lay back on the sofa and pulled her on top of him. “I want to see you take me inside you.” His erection pressed against her belly, the heat from it stirring her even more than his fingers now flicking across the tips of her nipples. She smiled at him sweetly, then lifted her hips. “Watch me then.” Feeling the head of him against her opening, she sat down hard, taking his full length in one long stroke, the entirety of him filling her to the point of sudden shock and pain. She cried out with the sweet agony of it, then rose and repeated the motion, the incredible filling of her emptiness complete with each powerful stroke. Brock took hold of her hips, slowing her motion as he watched her, his eyes boring into hers as if he could see inside her mind, knew the feelings and emotions and thoughts inside the bones of her skull. Never had he felt anything like the surging desire moving through his limbs. He’d certainly had sex in the past, with a reasonable share of women, he thought, but he’d not seen this kind of dynamic urge to fuck before in his life. If she didn’t slow down, he was going to come before he could give her the pleasure that she was giving him. And oh, the pleasure. Her tight pussy squeezed him like his own fist on all the nights he’d been forced to spend alone while imagining a scenario almost as good as this actual event. He had one rule with sex: a woman deserved to remember the time they’d spent with him, and remember it with a smile. Yes, he was here to teach her about human anatomy, and before they left here, that was exactly and precisely what he intended to do. Pivoting forward, he pressed her back against the sofa cushions. “You are a tornado, little one.” Releasing his cock from the tight hold of her pussy, he slid backward on the sofa, gazing down at the perspiration glistening over her skin. Her ample breasts rose and fell with each rapid breath, her eyes wide as she watched him drop small, wet kisses along her belly, moving lower and lower. The scent of her pussy beckoned to him, and his mouth watered in anticipation of the taste of her. He understood her sense of urgency, the desire to pump into her body and hear her scream as she came burned through him like a thousand suns. Time was short, but something about her body, the luscious beauty of it, the hungriness of her, would not let him hurry. He would have her, but he would have her slowly, profoundly, completely before they left this place. He glanced quickly around; the library was not the most ideal place to bring pleasure to this woman and hear her scream, and yet, as he turned back to the apex of her thighs he knew that the time it would take to wrap up their belongings and find an emergency exit was time he didn’t want to waste. As he slid his tongue along the inside of her thigh, she moaned and planted her feet on the sofa cushions then pressed upward toward him. He took hold of her thighs. “These right here, darlin’, connected to your femurs, are the hip joints and greater trochanters.” He pressed his thumbs hard into the soft flesh on either side of her glistening pussy. “And if you don’t stop moving them, I’m going to tie them down. Do you understand?” She nodded slowly as her mouth opened. “Don’t say a word. I’m teaching here.” He nestled back between her thighs and placed his tongue on her clit, flicking it upward bringing a shiver to her knees. She did not move her hips again. “Very good. Now, lie still until I tell you that you can move.” He watched her, his gaze steady until she nodded again. That’s more like it, he thought as he kissed her wet opening and tasted her sweet flavor. Her knees shook with each stroke of his tongue as he gathered the taste of her into his mouth. The aroma alone was enough to drive him insane; he tried to stop himself from moving so quickly, and yet, the heat and her trembling thighs mixed with the warmth on his tongue driving him onward until he finally stopped watching her and simply closed his eyes, losing himself in her pleasure Her scream echoed through the stacks of books surrounding them as she came, her body quivering all over. She pressed her hips down into the sofa cushions. He rose to his knees then leaned over her, holding himself above her body with his fists. Lowering himself to his elbows, his lips inches from hers from which emitted breath after heavy breath, he whispered. “See these bones, here, beneath the lovely skin of your neck?” “Uh huh.” Her breathing still rapid, she nodded slowly. “The name?” Positioning his cock at her slick opening, he pressed against her, but did not enter, holding back for the answer that would reward her with more pleasure.
Description: Carly Neal stares at the big red “F” on her college Human Anatomy exam in Professor Harold's course. There’s another test tomorrow, and if she doesn’t do something drastic, she’ll fail again. Brock Larson needs something from the professor too—a recommendation to an internship at the Mayo Clinic. He’d rather ask just about anyone else, but the professor’s name on his submission will seal his future. The professor doesn’t care about helping either of them until Brock proposes a wager. If he can teach Carly enough human anatomy in the next two days to ace the exams, he’s obviously the best man for the job and deserves the recommendation. Although hesitant to be used as a bargaining chip, Carly reasons that studying with this man might be her only chance to pass the class. But Brock might have in mind a very different curriculum for her summer sessions!
To My Readers: Carly is the kind of college student I was—hard working and kind of smart but nowhere near brilliant. Science classes were not my long suit. Well, sometimes a girl has to find new and creative ways to learn difficult concepts. When I sat down to write Summer Sessions, I imagined a more fun way to learn human anatomy... the sort of tutoring that included more than the textbook. In this book, Carly and Brock come up with a method that probably won’t make it into any college in this country but would certainly prove interesting and probably blow away the bell curve of grade point averages. Enjoy!
5 Nymphs - An outstanding read. The reviewer found this book a credit to its genre!
4 Nymphs - An impressive read. Quality literature, recommended for anyone who enjoys the genre(s)
Carly Neal has worked too hard getting herself into college to let some pompous, self-involved professor fail her now. It’s his fault she’s struggling – the man’s human anatomy lectures redefine the word boring and the textbook he’s working from is ancient. It’s no wonder the information isn’t sinking in. Whatever the cause though, Carly realizes she needs serious help if she’s going to pass.
Brock Larson needs a recommendation from the cantankerous teacher so takes the opportunity to interrupt a heated discussion between Carly and the professor with a proposal. Brock will tutor Carly, in return for the professor’s signature on his paper. Carly is furious that both men are so wrapped up in their own egos, they don’t even acknowledge her existence in the room. Brock can see that Carly doesn’t take lightly to being the subject of a wager so will have to use all his powers of persuasion to convince her that this deal with the devil is the best bet for both of them.
In Boning Up, Summer Alan had me panting with the novel way in which Brock helps Carly learn human anatomy in such a short space of time. Images of a couple of hot, sweaty study sessions with lots of hands-on advice, combined with the tempestuous love-hate relationship that quickly develops between Carly and Brock had me on the edge of my seat. The study sessions may be the stuff of college students’ dreams but the sexual frustration and insecurities were all too real and left me quite hot under the collar. The professor was a mean, jaded man who made the perfect villain, having long since lost interest in his job and gets his joy from tormenting his students. Reading Carly’s attempt to escape the assumptions the professor and Brock are making about her was an emotional roller coaster experience.
Boning Up
Carly Neal is a good student at college, but she keeps on doing badly at her Human Anatomy class. She's not prepared to quit over this, but when she asks the professor for help, he declares her a 'train wreck' and refuses to offer assistance. But then one of the professor's former students, Brock Larson, proposes a deal-if he can tutor Carly to two perfect A grades on her tests, the professor must agree to write him a glowing reference for the job Brock's set his heart on.
Carly is furious at being treated like a thing for barter, but when Brock apologises and says his offer is genuine, she decides to give him a chance. They start their study session in the library, and soon they realise that everyone's gone home and they're locked in. Carly still can't remember all the bones in the human body, so Brock helps her memorise them in a most inventive way. The next day Carly is delighted with her test score, but when the professor wants to talk about jobs with Brock, she feels like she's been used. Can Brock convince her that their connection is real, and will Carly be able to ace that second test and save her degree?
What a fun, sizzling and emotional rollercoaster of a read this is!Boning Up made me mad at the creepy, smug professor as much as it made me cheer for Carly's dogged determination and Brock's clever ideas of how to get her to remember her studies. The romance is perhaps a little too quick, but this is a couple I really felt for and who go through quite a lot to reach their happy ending. A thoroughly entertaining read.
Reviewed by: Maija
Boning Up 4 Cherries!!!! I only had one problem with Summer Alan’s delectable erotic short story, Boning Up, it was that it made me consider returning to college to find my own Anatomy tutor!
Boning Up is a delightful and super steamy read that I thoroughly enjoyed. Carly is fantastic as the feisty student that’s had just about all she can stand of her snotty professor. She’ll make you grin, chuckle, and shake your head.
Then there is Brock, the oh-so yummy upper classmen who places a bet with the professor that will yield him a note of recommendation if he can help Carly ace her final two exams. The books come out, the sparks fly, and romance blooms. Not bad at all for the length of the story. You get a little of everything, including a little feel up for the sake of learning, and some forbidden sex inside the school library. Need I say more?
Something that’s fun and fast to read, but will make you wriggle and squirm in your seat, be sure to check out Boning Up.
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