Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
And her stomach immediately drew in on itself.
Finn was good-looking. In his twenties. The clear overachiever type she encountered on a regular basis in the biology program. Medium height, wiry build, round gold-rimmed glasses, and shaggy brown hair. Hot science guy. Who wouldn’t be into him?
Orgasm Donor.
Tallulah inwardly winced. Such an appalling sweatshirt—and she believed Burgess when he said it didn’t belong to him. But something about the juxtaposition of this big, strong hockey player and the word “orgasm” wouldn’t stop punching her in the brain. Even while looking straight into the very earnest, very interested eyes of Finn.
I know how orgasms are donated.
You don’t know how I donate them.
I don’t think I’ll be finding out. Will I?
Your call, Tallulah.
A warm shiver snaked down her spine. What exactly had Burgess meant by that? Like he’d show her if she simply . . . asked? Her boss would donate her an orgasm?
Finn inched closer to Tallulah, distracting her from thoughts of the towering hockey player, and the fine layer of perspiration on her back hardened to ice, the loud music becoming muffled and distorted in her ears. This tended to happen when a man showed interest in her, and apparently tonight was going to be no exception. Although, she didn’t freeze up when Burgess got close, did she? No, just the opposite. She heated like a tea kettle. He had a way of approaching her at just the right pace, giving her room to stop . . . which only made her want more of her space invaded by him. This guy, however . . .
“I hope you’re as good a research partner as you are a dancer,” Finn said, close enough to her ear that his breath hit her neck.
Tallulah fought off a cringe. “Oh. Thanks.” She wanted to leave it at that, express her lack of interest right away and shut it down, but why? When her internship in Antarctica had drawn to a close, one of the biologists had asked her to dinner and she’d said no without thinking. Even though he’d been perfectly nice, like Finn. Probably not a monster.
But was probably ever going to be good enough?
Tallulah wanted to meet someone. Or be open to meeting someone, at the very least. It had been a really long time since she’d experienced physical satisfaction with another person—undergrad? Really?—and she missed the anticipation, the excitement, the selfish, human act of going home with someone on a quest for pleasure. Not overthinking, just feeling.
Would she ever be capable of that again?
“You don’t dance?” she forced herself to ask Finn, while casually glancing over her shoulder to see if Chloe was on the way with their drinks.
Finn shrugged. “Maybe if the right girl asked me, I would . . .”
He raised an eyebrow, as if hoping for an invitation.
“Oh, um. I’m probably going to head home soon, actually,” Tallulah said. “Just going to have one more drink with Chloe.”
His smile remained glued. “Where is home?”
A sour taste spread in her mouth. “Beacon Hill.”
“I’m going in that direction, if you want to split a cab.”
The chill on her skin traveled inward. Splitting a cab shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? She’d be seeing a lot of this guy at school. Outside of school, too, since they were partners on an assignment. Probably end up on more nights out together. But what if he got out of the cab at her building and decided to walk her to the door? What if he sent the cab on its way? It was nearing one o’clock in the morning.
No one would be around. Just them.
Still, she’d been living in fear so long. She just wanted to break out of it.
“Maybe. Sure.”
Finn’s smile widened.
“One amaretto sour for the lady,” Chloe sang, coming up on Tallulah’s right, pressing a cold drink into her hand. The blonde’s gaze bounced between Tallulah and Finn, lighting up with interest, and she leaned in close to speak near Tallulah’s ear. “Should I make myself scarce?”
“No.”
“Gotcha. Should he?”
“Uh. Yeah, I think so.”
“Double gotcha.” Chloe hooked her arm through Tallulah’s and stuck her bottom lip out at Finn. “Sorry, babe, I’m stealing her for drunk girl talk.”
“It’s the best kind,” Tallulah tacked on with a tight smile, grateful when Chloe steered her toward the bar. “Thanks. He wasn’t being excessively creepy or anything. I’m just . . .”
“You don’t have to explain. It’s just a no.”
“You’re right. I don’t have to explain.” They found a sliver of space at the bar and wedged themselves in, propping their elbows on the wood and facing one another. “Maybe I just think a marine biologist named Finn is a little too convenient.”
Chloe’s head fell back on a laugh. “Far too convenient.”
“I used to be way less discriminating with men. So long as they weren’t holding a bloody meat cleaver, I’d consider making out with them.”