Page 51 of Broken Dream
Her cheeks redden further.
Oh, God…
She’s thinking…
And I’m thinking…
I’d love to taste her pussy on my tongue.
Am I ready?
Am I truly ready?
I haven’t been with a woman since…
And she’s a student, for fuck’s sake. A student.
Hell, simply being in her home could be grounds for me to be fired.
But she let me in her home.
And I think she might let me in her, too.
Angie clears her throat, jerking me out of my thoughts.
“I’ll be sure to tell my mom how much you like it.”
I nod. “Best tomato soup ever. I don’t think I’ll ever eat tomato soup out of a can again.”
“My mom would love that,” she says. “She’ll say something like, ‘if I got one person off canned soup, I’ve done my job for the universe.’”
I smile. “Your mom sounds like an interesting person.”
She chuckles. “She is. She’s the youngest of four, and the other three are brothers, so they were always protective of her. My uncle Ryan is the youngest of the three, and he’s seven years older than my mom. My uncle Joe, the oldest, is thirteen years older, and my mom ended up marrying his best friend. So there’s a huge age gap between them. Thirteen years.”
I tilt my head.
Interesting that she mentioned the age gap.
She and I probably have an age gap of just about that much.
Is she telling me that doesn’t matter to her?
Or is she telling me…
I take another sip of wine.
She’s telling me absolutely nothing. She’s merely making conversation.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m babbling again.”
“Do you babble when you’re nervous?” I ask.
More red cheeks. If this goes on, her cheeks are going to be the color of a fire engine before we’re done.
The idea arouses me. I wonder if the blush in her cheeks spreads to her breasts.
In fact, I’m pretty hard right now, sitting at her kitchen table, eating her mother’s soup.
