Caught By Him—Twice, Then Undressed / Chapter 6: Quiz Me Harder
Caught By Him—Twice, Then Undressed

Caught By Him—Twice, Then Undressed

Author: Thomas Marquez

Chapter 6: Quiz Me Harder

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All the nerves, embarrassment, and wild thoughts have made me forget the most important thing—explaining what I actually do for a living.

He turns, face calm as ever, as if he was just watching the weather. He holds out the quiz, expectant.

"Found your key?"

I nod, mouth too dry to answer.

The elevator ride down is silent, tense. I can feel the quiz burning a hole in my hand.

Ding—

Tyler suddenly hands me the quiz. His eyes are serious, but there’s a smirk hiding in there somewhere.

"Ms. Lin, can you check this for me?"

He’s dead serious about the world’s silliest quiz. I can’t help but snort-laugh.

Did he just call me Ms. Lin? The formality is weirdly comforting.

But the tension breaks a little. I scan his answers as we walk to the car.

Switching into work mode, my nerves settle. I’m in my element.

"So, um, a lot of guys lose points here—on structure, key trigger spots, and effective stimulation for this area—"

Halfway through, I look up, startled;

"UCGA… killer question, you got every one right?"

In the dim light, his usually stoic face cracks into a teasing smile. He looks proud. Of course.

"What, was it hard?"

I duck into the passenger seat, pretending to study the quiz. My cheeks are on fire.

"Not—not exactly hard, just… oh, right! Here! The question about water-based, oil-based, and silicone-based ingredients—you got that one wrong! Never use oil-based with latex products—"

Jing! Stop talking! My mouth is running wild.

The engine roars, Tyler grips the wheel. His knuckles are white, but his lips twitch with amusement.

"Logically, if you can ace the last question, you probably don’t need to worry about this one."

He’s not hinting—he’s flexing. I roll my eyes, but inside, I’m cracking up.

"Well, different scenarios, different needs…"

Digging my own grave. Why can’t I shut up?

I glance down, eyes landing on my bare knees. The jacket slips off. The hem’s stuck, and no matter how I tug, it won’t budge.

After a few tries, my posture just gets… more awkward. I freeze, not daring to move.

Tyler glances over. His gaze lingers, heavy and unreadable.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his long fingers on the wheel. Those hands…

At the security checkpoint, those hands calmly reached into my secret pouch, found the switch…

Does this car have an oxygen mask? I need one, now.

Key turns, click—freedom. I practically leap out of the car.

I turn, head down, handing him the wrinkled jacket.

"Tyler, really, thanks for everything today…"

He doesn’t take it. His eyes are locked on mine, and the air feels charged.

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