The Tutor Mom’s Dangerous Deal - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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Victoria Evans' confidence puzzled me. How was she so comfortable with this situation?
I brushed the thought aside. Maybe she'd helped other parents with similar problems before.
That evening, Victoria was still wearing that plunging V-neck dress that left little to the imagination.
The moment Ethan saw her, his gaze locked onto her like a tractor beam. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.
The way he stared—like he wanted to dive headfirst into her cleavage—made my eye twitch.
Victoria caught my expression and smirked before pouring Ethan a glass of wine.
Ethan glanced at me nervously, waving his hands. "I don't really drink—"
Before he could finish, Victoria pressed the glass into his palm, her pinky brushing against his skin in a way that wasn't accidental.
I clenched my jaw but stayed silent. For Ethan's sake, I had to play along.
"Go ahead," I forced out. "Have a drink with Victoria."
That was all the permission he needed.
One glass turned into two, then three. Soon they were laughing over shared bottles, Ethan's face flushed crimson. When he nearly toppled over trying to stand, Victoria caught him with practiced ease.
"Let's get you to bed," she purred, her lips grazing his ear as she guided him toward the bedroom.
Ethan's glassy eyes remained fixed on her chest as she led him away. Victoria threw me a triumphant look over her shoulder before shutting the door—mostly.
I should've stopped them. But part of me thought, What the hell—if this works...
The clatter of dishes almost drowned out the first moan. Almost.
By the time I'd finished washing up, Victoria's performance had reached Broadway-worthy levels—complete with dramatic gasps and breathy cries that carried through the apartment. Thirty minutes later, I was gripping the counter, my face burning.
Victoria emerged naked, casually grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "You okay, Sophia?" she asked between gulps.
I shot her a glare. "You left the door open on purpose."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Wait—don't tell me you've been celibate since moving here?"
"Ethan," I snapped, ignoring her. "Did it work?"
Victoria licked her lips. "Your son's... surprisingly talented. Nearly wrecked me."
"That's not what I asked!"
"Right, right." She waved a hand. "Serious talk—his case is severe. Kept calling your name the whole time."
My stomach dropped.
"Relax," she said, stretching like a satisfied cat. "I've handled worse. Give me two months—I'll fix him."
"How many 'fixes' have you done exactly?"
Victoria grinned. "Do philanthropists count their good deeds?"
Point taken.
Over the next weeks, Victoria's "therapy sessions" became routine—first at our place, then at hers. The changes were undeniable: no more late-night porn binges, my lingerie stayed untouched, and his report card showed marked improvement.
I had to admit—the woman got results.
I brushed the thought aside. Maybe she'd helped other parents with similar problems before.
That evening, Victoria was still wearing that plunging V-neck dress that left little to the imagination.
The moment Ethan saw her, his gaze locked onto her like a tractor beam. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.
The way he stared—like he wanted to dive headfirst into her cleavage—made my eye twitch.
Victoria caught my expression and smirked before pouring Ethan a glass of wine.
Ethan glanced at me nervously, waving his hands. "I don't really drink—"
Before he could finish, Victoria pressed the glass into his palm, her pinky brushing against his skin in a way that wasn't accidental.
I clenched my jaw but stayed silent. For Ethan's sake, I had to play along.
"Go ahead," I forced out. "Have a drink with Victoria."
That was all the permission he needed.
One glass turned into two, then three. Soon they were laughing over shared bottles, Ethan's face flushed crimson. When he nearly toppled over trying to stand, Victoria caught him with practiced ease.
"Let's get you to bed," she purred, her lips grazing his ear as she guided him toward the bedroom.
Ethan's glassy eyes remained fixed on her chest as she led him away. Victoria threw me a triumphant look over her shoulder before shutting the door—mostly.
I should've stopped them. But part of me thought, What the hell—if this works...
The clatter of dishes almost drowned out the first moan. Almost.
By the time I'd finished washing up, Victoria's performance had reached Broadway-worthy levels—complete with dramatic gasps and breathy cries that carried through the apartment. Thirty minutes later, I was gripping the counter, my face burning.
Victoria emerged naked, casually grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "You okay, Sophia?" she asked between gulps.
I shot her a glare. "You left the door open on purpose."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Wait—don't tell me you've been celibate since moving here?"
"Ethan," I snapped, ignoring her. "Did it work?"
Victoria licked her lips. "Your son's... surprisingly talented. Nearly wrecked me."
"That's not what I asked!"
"Right, right." She waved a hand. "Serious talk—his case is severe. Kept calling your name the whole time."
My stomach dropped.
"Relax," she said, stretching like a satisfied cat. "I've handled worse. Give me two months—I'll fix him."
"How many 'fixes' have you done exactly?"
Victoria grinned. "Do philanthropists count their good deeds?"
Point taken.
Over the next weeks, Victoria's "therapy sessions" became routine—first at our place, then at hers. The changes were undeniable: no more late-night porn binges, my lingerie stayed untouched, and his report card showed marked improvement.
I had to admit—the woman got results.
End of The Tutor Mom’s Dangerous Deal Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to The Tutor Mom’s Dangerous Deal book page.