exciting that he sent Michelle a text as
soon as they finished shooting hoops that morning.
J: Are you still holding me to that foursome
of orgasms tonight? Because I plan on delivering.
M: Four? Consider me game.
He texted her on and off throughout his day,
until it was time for his appointment, and even then he kept up the
volley on his walk to the Lexington Avenue building.
* * *
M: By the way, did I tell you that I woke up
this morning thinking about what you did to me against the
wall?
J: Did you touch yourself?
M: What do you think?
J: That you had that gorgeous sexy O mouth going on this morning in your bed.
M: Maybe I did
J: Would love to see that. Fingers or
toys?
M: Both. And if you want to know more,
you’ll have to take me to dinner.
J: That can be arranged, but I’m going to
need to eat food, and eat you.
M: How about you make arrangements for the
former, and I do for the latter?
J: I’ll make reservations at a restaurant. I
might need to taste you first though. Not sure if I can wait. I’ll
text you later. I have a meeting in five min. Walking into the
building now.
M: Mmm . . . I like the way you think . . .
and I have an appt too. Can’t wait to see you again.
J: Can’t wait to see you.
Michelle grinned wickedly as she turned her
personal phone to silent, then tucked it into a desk drawer. She
always gave her clients supreme focus, and that included not only
silencing the phone, but placing it completely out of sight.
Besides, Jack was already front and center in her mind; she didn’t
need to clutter her thoughts with even more of him when she had to
focus on her next patient. He was some kind of magic, though; he’d
been the only man whose touch had made her forget Clay. She hadn’t
thought of her good friend once last night. Jack had been so
overpowering, so dominant that there was no room for anyone but
Jack in her head and heart.
He was a good drug, the kind who could wash
away the bitter aftertaste of unrequitedness.
Now, here in the light of day, her mind
tripped briefly back to Clay. She’d been in love with that man for
ten years, and it sucked that he hadn’t loved her back. She’d hoped
that Liam, the charming actor she’d dated a few months ago, would
blunt her feelings. But as she flipped open her laptop to check on
her next appointment, Michelle knew there hadn’t been enough of a
spark with Liam—there wasn’t a true light-up-the-night ignition
that could erase the past.
It would take a once-in-a-century eclipse to
blot out the ache she’d felt for Clay, who was now so happy with
another woman. Longing had camped out in her heart for so many
years it had squatter’s rights. She wished someone had warned her
that loving someone who doesn’t love you is like a permanent sore
in the mouth—painful, and you want to touch it all the time, to
worry away at it. The ache had dulled in the last few months, but
he was still in her heart and she had no clue how to fully erase
him.
She clicked open her calendar, checking on
the details of her next session. At least she had her work to focus
on. Her clients and their challenges fed her, made her whole in a
way that only her work as a psychologist could do. She scanned the
notes from her office manager who’d arranged the appointment,
though she knew very little about the man coming to see her. That
was par for the course. She rarely knew much in advance, and her
job was to get to know clients during their time together.
But she knew this much. No first name, but
the last name was Sullivan. His sister had called to set up the
appointment for him, citing intimacy issues . There was a
line about “difficulty moving on from last relationship,” and a
reminder that discretion of the highest order was vital, since the
patient was a prominent businessman.
Not a problem. Never a problem. Discreet was
Michelle Milo’s middle name. She hadn’t even breathed Shayla’s name
out loud to Jack when she’d called her service
soon as they finished shooting hoops that morning.
J: Are you still holding me to that foursome
of orgasms tonight? Because I plan on delivering.
M: Four? Consider me game.
He texted her on and off throughout his day,
until it was time for his appointment, and even then he kept up the
volley on his walk to the Lexington Avenue building.
* * *
M: By the way, did I tell you that I woke up
this morning thinking about what you did to me against the
wall?
J: Did you touch yourself?
M: What do you think?
J: That you had that gorgeous sexy O mouth going on this morning in your bed.
M: Maybe I did
J: Would love to see that. Fingers or
toys?
M: Both. And if you want to know more,
you’ll have to take me to dinner.
J: That can be arranged, but I’m going to
need to eat food, and eat you.
M: How about you make arrangements for the
former, and I do for the latter?
J: I’ll make reservations at a restaurant. I
might need to taste you first though. Not sure if I can wait. I’ll
text you later. I have a meeting in five min. Walking into the
building now.
M: Mmm . . . I like the way you think . . .
and I have an appt too. Can’t wait to see you again.
J: Can’t wait to see you.
Michelle grinned wickedly as she turned her
personal phone to silent, then tucked it into a desk drawer. She
always gave her clients supreme focus, and that included not only
silencing the phone, but placing it completely out of sight.
Besides, Jack was already front and center in her mind; she didn’t
need to clutter her thoughts with even more of him when she had to
focus on her next patient. He was some kind of magic, though; he’d
been the only man whose touch had made her forget Clay. She hadn’t
thought of her good friend once last night. Jack had been so
overpowering, so dominant that there was no room for anyone but
Jack in her head and heart.
He was a good drug, the kind who could wash
away the bitter aftertaste of unrequitedness.
Now, here in the light of day, her mind
tripped briefly back to Clay. She’d been in love with that man for
ten years, and it sucked that he hadn’t loved her back. She’d hoped
that Liam, the charming actor she’d dated a few months ago, would
blunt her feelings. But as she flipped open her laptop to check on
her next appointment, Michelle knew there hadn’t been enough of a
spark with Liam—there wasn’t a true light-up-the-night ignition
that could erase the past.
It would take a once-in-a-century eclipse to
blot out the ache she’d felt for Clay, who was now so happy with
another woman. Longing had camped out in her heart for so many
years it had squatter’s rights. She wished someone had warned her
that loving someone who doesn’t love you is like a permanent sore
in the mouth—painful, and you want to touch it all the time, to
worry away at it. The ache had dulled in the last few months, but
he was still in her heart and she had no clue how to fully erase
him.
She clicked open her calendar, checking on
the details of her next session. At least she had her work to focus
on. Her clients and their challenges fed her, made her whole in a
way that only her work as a psychologist could do. She scanned the
notes from her office manager who’d arranged the appointment,
though she knew very little about the man coming to see her. That
was par for the course. She rarely knew much in advance, and her
job was to get to know clients during their time together.
But she knew this much. No first name, but
the last name was Sullivan. His sister had called to set up the
appointment for him, citing intimacy issues . There was a
line about “difficulty moving on from last relationship,” and a
reminder that discretion of the highest order was vital, since the
patient was a prominent businessman.
Not a problem. Never a problem. Discreet was
Michelle Milo’s middle name. She hadn’t even breathed Shayla’s name
out loud to Jack when she’d called her service
Similar Books
