A few more like that and she might succeed in taking the edge off her frustration, she thought grimly. Thanks to Matt's several out-of-town poetry readings, they hadn't been able to get together for almost a week. Their daily affectionate phone conversations and intimate if not quite erotic emails fueled both her memory of that evening at his house and her fantasies of reprising a sexual experience that was frighteningly close to ideal. She'd chaffed, surprised by how much she wanted to see him. Touch him. The rhythm of his poet's voice aroused her, creating mind-pictures of the planes and angles of his face and the outlines of his body with which she now had a tactile as well as a visual familiarity. "So, Nan." Dan Masterson leaned into the gate that led onto the court. "I hear things are going nicely between you and our Dr. Mullen." "Oh." For the first time in years, she felt herself blushing. "Yes, they are. Why, what did he say?" "Nothing I didn't already know.
