Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
The first is the original. The first one she carried into my office for her first lecture. The one with anatomical diagrams and notes that I wasn’t even aware she was taking at first.
Professor Holt has the body of an Adonis, and hands that I can’t stop thinking about.
She filled that notebook like it was a diary, detailing the wonders of our sex life together. And then, as the years went by, she filled ten more. Her current, and twelfth, lies open on the bedside table with a pen on top of it, just waiting for tonight’s entry.
Because my wife is adorable. She documents everything. Every position we try, every sound we make, every place I put my hands or tongue…
…and how many times I get her off. Our record so far for one session is seven. But records are made to be broken.
Our son, James, is asleep down the hall. He has Jessie’s eyes, my jaw, and an adorable stubborn temperament that he gets from both of us. This of course means a nightly negotiation to get him into bed. He’s only three years old and is already sure he’s right about everything. He’ll be a force of nature when he’s older.
Tonight, Becca put him down for us. Becca, Jessie’s long-time friend who bought her the vibrator so many years ago, which may have inadvertently caused the chain of events that led to our incredible relationship.
She moved to our same neighborhood after graduation. She and Jessie are such good friends that they’re practically incapable of living more than a few minutes apart.
And I don’t mind. I like Becca, and we pay her to help us out around the house—probably more than someone else would charge—but I don’t mind. We owe so much to her. She’s basically part of the family now.
Their mutual friend Dani is married now to a man who looks wonderfully terrified of her. And Lourdes runs a women’s health center in Miami. They FaceTime weekly, and I have a feeling our fun together is the topic of many discussions.
Jessie is finishing up her graduate degree in human anatomy and writing her thesis on female sexual responses, specifically the neurological mechanisms surrounding arousal. She’s specifically focusing on women who, like her, were late in exploring their sexuality.
Her committee chair calls her work ‘groundbreaking.’ Me? I tease her and call it ‘autobiographical’ but only when we’re in the bedroom at night. I have to chuckle when she hits me with a pillow, then straddles me, her bright eyes gleaming down at me.
That’s our signal. The one that lets me know she wants something from me—she wants it.
Gerald Belcher is gone. Once Jessie reported him to the dean, her investigation spiraled into something massive. More women came forward, including a junior faculty member whom he had harassed for years.
By the end of the academic year, the dean had all she needed. Belcher was terminated, and the last I heard, he was selling insurance in Connecticut.
The skeleton in my old office is still named after him.
I hear the front door close and Becca’s car start in the driveway. Then I hear my wife’s footsteps on the stairs. She appears in the doorway of our bedroom like an angel, and my heart does the same thing it always does when I look at her, which is nearly burst out of my chest as every nerve ending in my body lights up.
God, she’s so damn sexy.
She’s wearing one of my T-shirts—just the T-shirt. Her hair is down, her legs are bare, and she’s leaning against the doorframe the way she used to lean against the one in my office.
Only she’s not a freshman anymore. She’s twenty-three years old, and she is my wife. The way those eyes look at me… She knows what’s about to happen.
“James is out.” She smiles. “Becca said he managed to get an extra story out of her before passing out.”
“That’s my boy.” I chuckle.
There’s a pause as her smile shifts, changing from something warm to something else—something with heat behind it. She bites the corner of her lower lip and tilts her head, looking at me through her lashes.
I think back to the proposal—getting down on my knees in front of her barely two weeks after we met. I held up the ring, and she said yes before I even finished the question. Tears spilled from her eyes, and mine even welled up a bit too.
My perfect woman.
She bites the corner of her lip in that adorable way that gets my blood flowing, then whispers, “Hey, Daddy.”
My cock pulses between my legs, lifting the fabric of my briefs as it begins to swell.
Five years of marriage and those words still hit me like a defibrillator on high. Straight to the heart. My fingers tighten around the mattress like they used to curl around the edge of my desk. Some things will never change, and the way this woman makes me feel is one of them.