When It's Love

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Book: Read When It's Love for Free Online
Authors: Emma Lauren
Tags: Contemporary
can create a situation where I’m always worried Professor Sparling won’t reply. I could spend days on edge wondering what he’s doing, whom he’s with, and when, if ever, he’s going to reply. Then again, if I don’t respond to him, I have nothing. A voice in my head is screaming, DO IT. If only it were a little bit later in the day so I could get Henry’s take on this.
    With a racing heart, I get up to feed the cats. I don’t even need coffee this morning because my whole body is alert and ready for anything. I decide to make the most of my nervous energy and start my reply because it’s pretty clear I won’t be able to think about anything else. I can always write my message, save a draft, and talk to Henry about it before I send.
    Despite all my eagerness, now as I’m poised to write, I don’t know where to begin. A zillion thoughts race through my head, but none of them seem right. I make progress by telling myself to just obey the professor. He said, “Don’t be shy.” But just how forward does he expect me to be? It’s not like I don’t know how to be with a man, or describe what I like, it’s just been a really long time since I’ve had the sensation of strong arms around me and an erection pressing hard against my middle. I am ready for a reminder. I know what I want. Now the only task that remains is figuring out how to write it.
    Dear Professor Sparling,
    You have many physical attributes and I could go on and on about them – your eyes, your hair, your chest, your shoulders, your ass. The thing I like most about you, though, is not one feature or another. It’s the way you wake me up. When I think of you desire builds inside me and clouds all reason and judgment. You make me want to wear crotchless black panties, a short skirt, and a thin, white wife-beater without a bra beneath it, so my nipples are completely visible. You make me want to throw away my hiking boots and put on a pair of five inch stilettos. What I like best about you is that you make me come alive.
    Sydney
    I read over my email, amazed at the words that came out of me. I wonder if it’s too self-centered? I’m making it all about me and about how he makes me feel. I save my draft, and look at the time. Not even six minutes have passed since I last checked. It’s still way too early to get in touch with Henry. We have breakfast plans at 9:00, but he never gets up before 8:00. The time between now and then feels like an eternity. I suppose I’ll use the time to go to the basement and do some laundry. Nothing quite like freshly laundered sweatshirts …

Henry meets me at Kuki’s, the number one spot in Addison for bacon, eggs, and hash browns. Many mornings there’s a line halfway down the block to get in. Fortunately, there’s no wait today. Addison is like a ghost town during school vacations. Henry and I get a table for two at the front window, where we have a fantastic view of the empty downtown Addison street lined with soggy Christmas decorations.
    “I can’t believe how deserted the town is today,” I say.
    “All the more bacon for us, Syd,” Henry says. He shoots a wry smile my way.
    “What?” I say.
    “Nothing. I didn’t say anything,” Henry says.
    “But that smile of yours is so …”
    “My smile is nothing more than an expression of my happiness that I’m here with you having breakfast.”
    “Aw,” I say. “You’re so sweet to me.”
    A waitress in a dull yellow dress with a white lace-bordered apron fills our mugs with coffee. Her graying hair is knotted in a tight, neat bun on the top of her head. “Good morning,” she says. “What can I get for you?”
    “I’ll have two eggs sunny side up, a double order of bacon, and hash browns, of course,” Henry says.
    “The same for me,” I say. All I’ve eaten in the last 16 hours is a rice cake with peanut butter. I am starving.
    “Anything cold to drink?” the waitress asks. “We’ve got fresh squeezed juice.”
    “Yes, please,”

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