Page 65 of Broken Dream

And I want more of it.

But Jason left.

I have to face the fact that this isn’t what he wants.

I can’t blame him. He shouldn’t be sleeping with a student. He and I both know that.

So I lie in bed. I’ll give myself half an hour to relive the passion. To feel it again as I slide my hand between my legs.

The orgasm hits me, spreads through the veins in my body, out my fingers and toes and then plummets back to my pussy.

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?”