Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
And it feels good.
But not as good as it felt last night with Jason.
His head between my legs, his tongue tantalizing me…
Nothing will come close to that.
Then how he filled me, his big hard dick inside me as he used my body for his own pleasure.
Oh, to be used that way again.
I check the digital clock on my nightside table. My half hour is up.
Tillie starts to whine at me. How do dogs always seem to know what time it is?
I slide out of bed and lean down to scratch her ears. I quickly put her out to do her business and then traipse to my bathroom and turn on the shower. As I stand under it, washing the earthy and masculine smell of Jason from my body, a profound sense of loss hits me.
I power through anyway.
Once I’m clean and dressed, my hair falling in damp waves around my shoulders, I brew a pot of coffee, scramble a few eggs, and then sit down in my living room with my iPad and textbooks.
I force myself to concentrate on the study of medicine. I can’t allow my mind to keep drifting back to Jason and our tryst in my kitchen.
But my God… It’s difficult.
The words on the textbooks blur on the page, and the diagrams become blurs as well.
I rise, pace around my coffee table, head back to the kitchen to refill my coffee.
That’s it.
I have to confront him. We have to talk about this. I have to know if it’s something more than a onetime thing.
I slide my feet into my boots, throw on my down jacket and muffler, and walk to my door, ready to go to Jason’s.
I open the door—
“Oh!” Tabitha stands there holding two cups from Starbucks. “Surprise!”
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
“Bringing you coffee.” She walks in without being invited.
“Okay.”
She wrinkles her forehead at me. “But you have your coat on. Were you on your way out?”
“Yeah, I was, but I’d rather have coffee with you.” I force a smile.
She grins. “Great, because I want to talk to you about something.”
Crap.
Has Ralph talked to her? Does she know about Jason’s and my kiss?
“You look all flushed,” she says, touching my cheek. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Then she touches my forehead. “I don’t know, Angie. You might have a slight fever.”
I can’t help a soft chuckle. It’s a medical student thing. After one semester, most medical students are convinced they can diagnose anything.
“I don’t have a fever, Tabitha. I’m fine.”
“If you say so.” She hands me a cup of the coffee she brought. “Black, no cream and sugar. I remember.”
I take it and click the paper cup to hers. “Cheers.”
She laughs and takes a sip of the—most likely triple mocha—in her cup.
Yeah, it is. She has a slight whipped-cream moustache that she licks off.
I gesture her over to the counter, where she takes a seat. “You hungry? I made some scrambled eggs earlier. I can make some more. Or I have some croissants. My cousin on the Western Slope made them. They’re the best you’ll ever eat.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Tabitha says.
I walk to the fridge, but she’s right on my heels. Damn. She really does want to talk to me about something.
I grab a couple of Ava’s croissants out of the fridge, heat them for a few seconds in the microwave, and then grab some of my mom’s spiced peach jam.
“Here you go.” I put a croissant on a plate and hand it to her. “Have a seat.” I bring the jam over to the table and offer it to her. “My mom makes this stuff from our Western Slope peaches. It’s the bomb.”
Tabitha spreads some over her croissant and takes a bite. “Oh my God,” she says. “I think I just had a tiny orgasm.”
I laugh.
I’m beginning to really like Tabitha. She reminds me of Sage, my sister. So outgoing and always up for a good time.
“Glad you like it. I’ll let my mom know that her jam is orgasmic.”
She closes her eyes. “Not just the jam, but the croissant. You come from a talented family.”
She’s not wrong. I’ve always felt like I’m the one who has no talent. I’m not outgoing, not an artist like Gina, I can’t cook like my mom, bake like Ava, make wine like Dale and Uncle Ryan.
But what I can do is care. Have empathy. Which is why I decided to follow Aunt Melanie into psychiatry.
“So…” Tabitha begins.
Shit. Here it comes. She’s going to mention—
“What do you think of Ralph?” she asks.
I raise my eyebrows. Ralph? Okay. Not what I was expecting. She’s the one who said he was being a dick yesterday. Unless he told her what he saw…
“Honestly?” I ask.
She swallows a bite of croissant. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t be asking you otherwise.”
Do I tell her the truth? That he came on to me in my kitchen and tried to kiss me? That when I rebuffed his advances, he threatened to go to the dean about the kiss I shared with Jason? Which would not only end his teaching career but would also make me a pariah among my peers?