Never was another going to replace him, his body, or his giving of pleasure to her. She was his forever. Who reads this crap? Then, as if on autopilot, I turn the page and continue reading about Almonte and Gwendolyn. About their undivided, unabashed and now forever giving of pleasure, love. Am I ashamed to be reading this? Yes. Am I even more ashamed to be reading this at my desk over lunch? I can’t stress how much. But at least now I know it’s not my fault. Now I know if I were in my right mind, I wouldn’t be hiding in my office, with my door closed, reading smut. If I were in my right mind, I’d take the hour to go look at shoes at the boutique around the corner, or go to the café with Holly down the street. There’s also a huge possibility I’d be nose deep in the files that are currently piling up on my desk. The ones that have been waiting to be referenced and chronicled for my boss who will be back from court by end of day. But because I now know I’m not in the right mind, I continue to sit with my eyes roaming over the words of this book, turning the pages fervently, needing more.
