Call Me Saffron (Greenpoint Pleasures) by Talia Quinn Read Free Book Online

lunch. You’re pretty amazing. Best therapy ever. I’m still smiling as I look at the corset. Which, by the way, doesn’t fit me. If you give me your address, I’ll mail it to you. Unless you want to pick it up in person? Maybe try it on again?  
    Dylan
    I shivered, hearing the words in his deep voice, the memory thrumming through me.  
    See him again?
    Jeanine gave me a sidelong smile. “Want to set up a return engagement? Maybe you can get another T-shirt out of the deal.”
    I almost said yes. The sex was so good, and I’d still be Saffron, not Samantha. He’d pay me. An exchange of services.  
    Yeah, right. After last night, did I seriously think Dylan would keep a safe emotional distance? That he wouldn’t ask me a million personal questions, that he wouldn’t share intimacy like it was a gift rather than a ticking time bomb?  
    If I walked into that spookily beautiful empty apartment today or next week or even next month, he’d greet me like an old friend. No, an old lover. We now had a past, he and I. Shared intimacy. And if I went back, we’d share more. We’d build a relationship.  
    And I couldn’t risk my heart. Not for him, not for anyone.  
    “Once was enough. Write him back, say thanks for the night. It was fun.”
    I made myself turn around and leave Jeanine’s room, closing the door behind me.

Chapter Five

    Dylan, it turned out, wasn’t the kind of guy to give up easily. He must have had as good a time together as I had. He’d emailed back and forth with Saffron a dozen times that first week. He asked where to mail the corset. It’s okay, I don’t need it . Asked where to send flowers. Sweet thought, but you won’t get my address that way, sneaky man . And then he got to the real point and asked when he could see me again. Said he’d pay for a night, an overnight, a weekend. He was exuberantly extravagant at first, and Jeanine kept gazing at me with sad eyes over her breakfast oatmeal, asking when I’d finally say yes, because I obviously wanted to.  
    Though Saffron was kind and warm and even a little flirty at times, her schedule was crazy busy. She wasn’t sure when she could fit him in, but she’d let him know. Then she was laid up in bed with a bad flu. If it worked for Jeanine, why not me? And then I—or rather, she—said she couldn’t see him again. That it was too close to a real date.  
    Yeah, a little bit of truth crept in there, despite my best intentions.  
    Then he stopped emailing. And that felt worse.  
    The first month, I told myself I could live on the memories and my handy-dandy vibrator.
    The second month, I stopped by Greenpoint Pleasures on my way home to pick up another vibrator. My old one was obviously faulty.
    The third month, I tossed the new vibrator. It buzzed louder than the ancient window air conditioner keeping my room semicool in the midsummer heat wave. Mostly, it wasn’t the same as the real thing.  
    The fourth month, I leaned over the divider at work and asked Rudy if he had time for a quick lunch. Anything to distract me. To remind me there were other men. We sat at a plastic booth in a pizza joint around the corner and munched on calzones. Rudy was charming and funny, and I felt nothing for him. We did have lunch again a couple of weeks later, though.  
    The fifth month, I told Jeanine I was taking a vow of celibacy. She laughed. I smacked her with a pillow.  
    Now, six months after the most intimate night of my life, I sat at my drafting table in the large main office at Alvarez and Associates and tried to work on a remodel of a Greenwich Village brownstone, but my mind kept wandering. It had been exactly six months. To the day. May 15 th to October 15 th . Dylan had undoubtedly moved on. I should too.  
    I bent back to my work. Let’s see, if we removed the wall between the living and dining room, we’d have to add a couple of columns to maintain the structural integrity…
    A voice rumbled through me. It came from behind me.