Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Just when I think I’ll go full Harry Met Sally orgasm wail, the lights come up. The jacket and Josiah’s hand are abruptly removed from my lap. I was so close. I would have bitten my lip in half to come quietly. Now my body rebels, a throb between my thighs, the pulse insistent at my throat and wrists, perspiration boiling at my temples, and the blood racing through my veins at autobahn speed.
“And that concludes our budget plans for next year,” Dr. Morgan says, smiling out over the crowd of parents assembled in the auditorium. “We couldn’t do any of this without you. We raised enough money last year for a new Olympic-sized pool and to offer more scholarships to qualified students unable to afford tuition.”
Exchanging discreetly heated glances, Josiah and I join in the smattering of applause. When you pay as much as these parents do for your child’s tuition, sometimes raising money for swimming pools and other kids to attend doesn’t inspire much enthusiasm. Fundraising rarely does, but Dr. Morgan’s great at it. I’ll give her that, and helping students who can’t afford the outrageous price tag—I’m all for it.
“We’re a little over halfway through this year,” Dr. Morgan continues, pushing her glasses up with one finger. “It’s been amazing so far. Let’s make this second half the best yet.”
She clasps her hands under her chin, signaling a shift in the agenda.
“Now our teachers are eager to discuss your students’ progress,” she says. “Some of you met with them over the last few weeks, but if you have not, they’ll be in their classrooms for the next hour. Thank you again for coming to parents’ night. Have a good evening.”
I want to drag Josiah through the parking lot, find a secluded spot in the woods, and fuck him against a tree, but several people make a beeline for us. I suppress my frustration, even out my breathing, and try to focus on each conversation, profoundly aware of the tall man beside me smiling easily like he didn’t just have his hand shoved between my legs. Some of the parents own businesses and ask about the Skyland Association. A few are basketball moms I’ve seen at practices and games. Josiah is at every game and spends a lot of time working with Kassim on fundamentals. We’ve kind of found a new group of parents to socialize and commiserate with. They usually watch us with varying degrees of fascination and curiosity. They know we’re divorced, but we’re always together at parents’ nights and games and any of Kassim’s or Deja’s activities. It feels like basic good parenting to me. Set your shit aside so you can put your kids first…101.
While we’re laughing with the parent of one of Kassim’s teammates, Josiah’s hand creeps to the small of my back. It’s a casual touch, innocent to anyone watching, but it may as well be a poker, blazing through the cotton of my blouse.
While one of the PTA committee heads drones on about some fundraising idea to a few of us, I hazard a glance at Josiah. He grins, leaning down to whisper in my ear.
“You really want to fuck me right now, don’t you?” he asks, the words singeing the sensitive skin of my neck.
My smile stays fixed, plastered on my face, but I barely hear the conversations going on around me for the next fifteen minutes, and couldn’t tell you a thing anyone said. I grin and nod, but have trouble focusing on anything other than this fire Josiah started and won’t get to extinguish.
“That’s really generous of you, Yasmen,” the PTA committee head says. “I appreciate it.”
“Huh?” I’m jarred by the sound of my name. “What?”
“I was just saying we really appreciate you volunteering to take the lead on the spring dance.”
What the…
That’s what I get for checking out and fantasizing about forest sex.
“Um, oh.” My startled gaze pings from her smiling face to Josiah’s knowing smirk. “Of course. Of course. Anything for the kids.”
“I’ll email you this week,” she says, glancing at her watch, “but I really need to go.”
I look around, surprised to find that we’re the last ones in the auditorium. Other parents have left to see their kids’ teachers, or maybe have already spoken to the teachers like we have, and headed home.
“You ready?” I ask Josiah, breathless and still turned on, but resigned to a date with my vibrator tonight.
“Not quite.” He casts a look around the empty auditorium and grabs my hand, walking me up the aisle and toward the stage.
I snicker, looking over my shoulder to check for any bystanders. “Where are we going, Si?”
“My tongue would like some quality time with you, and my dick requests the honor of your presence.”
He pulls me up the steps and backstage. We venture deeper into the shadows, past costumes and props and stage lights and finally into a dressing room nestled at the very end of the corridor. He closes the door behind us and flattens me against it, muscled forearms on either side of my head.