Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
This involved advanced coursework, a significant amount of time conducting research, a dissertation, qualifying exams, and finally I had to complete clinical hours.
I’d been working my ass off, forgoing any real social life.
No partying.
No vacations.
No dating.
No sex.
Then, yesterday, my mother called and decided that I would need to change my PhD to Biblical Studies or she would not pay anymore.
Just like that.
I’d dedicated my academic career to studying human sexuality, receiving honors, awards, and scholarships.
And my mother went to her country club yesterday afternoon, hung at the bar with her golf buddies, and told them what I studied.
Apparently, some laughed.
Others joked.
Regardless, she drowned in embarrassment.
I thought back to that exhausting phone conversation from yesterday.
“Nova, it would be more respectful—”
“Mom, what I’m doing now is respectable—”
“Studying sex? After your brother?”
“Mom don’t say that—”
“Biblical Studies is also taught at Paradise City University. Just go to the office and change everything—”
“I can’t just switch it over like that. Every PhD program has an application process—”
“You’re wasting your life away, and I won’t allow it. Janine didn’t even know what one does with this PhD.”
“Well, tell Janine to call me so I can explain—”
“And be embarrassed more? No.”
“Mom, after the program I will be able to help people who are struggling with sexual dysfunction, or issues related to sexual orientation—”
“Oh, God. The gays?”
I sighed. “I could also be an advocate for promoting policies that support women’s sexual health and well-being—”
“Patricia says you’re basically studying orgasms on my money. I was ridiculously embarrassed.”
“Mom, I can’t just change my PhD because your friends made fun of you—”
“You can, when it is my money—”
“It’s actually the education fund that Daddy put in place for me—”
“His will made me trustee—”
“Mom, I’m twenty-five years old. I’ve done everything and more to show you that I am responsible—”
“This is giving me anxiety. Now, I won’t be able to go to the Black-tie Gala tonight.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Fix this. I expect you to change everything by next week and send any documentation to me.”
Of course I hadn’t changed anything.
There was no way I would.
The research of sexuality had been my life.
People like my brother had struggled with this very concept.
I would not deviate from my life’s purpose.
Not for my mother.
Not for anybody.
Professor Brown may have some solutions.
The car entered the south of Paradise City and glided through the quiet, tree-lined streets of the residential neighborhoods.
When I have kids, I’ll never be like my mother.
My gaze drifted to the houses and the windows that dotted the landscape. I couldn’t help but peer into the lit-up interiors of the homes, catching glimpses of strangers’ lives in the glow of their warm, inviting living rooms.
I’ll be different and truly support my kids.
In one window, I saw a couple watching TV together. Their bodies were curled up against each other on the couch. They seemed content and at ease, comfortable in each other’s presence.
My heart warmed.
I’ll have to work. Two jobs if necessary. I’ll do anything—flip burgers, teach kids, admin. . .hell. . .sell my body even. . .
In another window, I spotted a couple kissing passionately in their kitchen. Their bodies were entwined as they leaned against the counter.
A pang of longing hit me.
I cleared my throat.
I can do this. I just need faith and determination and. . .
I glimpsed a family dancing in their living room. Children laughed next to what I assumed to be their parents.
Deep longing throbbed through me.
Tristan’s face flashed in my head.
My body hummed with desire.
At the art showing, the spark between us had been impossible to ignore.
I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt towards him. He had that raw, sexual energy that would make most women rip their clothes off and volunteer to be his sex slave.
No. No. Remember. You have a crisis that’s more important.
The car stopped at a red light.
I tried not to look, but in another window, a woman cradled a newborn baby in her arms. That sight tugged at my heart.
I turned away.
I might have been driven and focused on my career goals, but my truest desires lay in the simple moments of human connection—true love and creating a big family with a special person.
Soon. . .but. . .when? And with who?
Chapter Four
The Psychology of Desire
The car pulled up to my apartment building.
Tristan’s face returned to my mind.
Fuck. He’s so sexy, but probably dangerous. . .in the most delicious ways.
My driver waved at me. “Have a good night.”
“Oh. Yes. Thanks. You too.” I stepped out of the Uber and closed the door.
I’m supposed to be saving my life and Tristan wants a date. Should I even go?
Any other month I would have gladly said yes. But, this month I had to get out of my mother’s clutches and become independent.
Still. . .how could I say no to him?
There was something undeniably sexy about this man. He had that raw magnetism that would draw any sane woman in.