Substitute Boyfriend by Jade C. Jamison Page B

that such a turn on?
    And would I have the guts to write about it later?
    I moaned again, already on the verge of a killer orgasm.
    My thighs began to quiver as he nibbled at my neck just below my ear.  My breathing grew deeper as I felt the build toward the crescendo, and when it hit, I couldn’t stop myself.  I was loud, unable to stop the sounds pouring out of my mouth, and for those brief seconds while I was experiencing nirvana, my worries of discovery were nonexistent.
    I was grew anxious again as I started coming off that cloud, but Roman wouldn’t hear anything of it.  His kissed me lightly on the lips and retied my bikini—the top and the bottom—and then managed to talk me into spending a little time in the hot tub.
    * * *
    Classes ground down into the days of finals in late July.  Unlike the fall and spring semester, final exams during the summer did not last an entire week.  Instead, they encompassed a couple of specified days.  By Friday, I was exhausted but grateful that grades weren’t due until late Monday.
    Roman met me in the hallway on campus late Friday afternoon.  “Let’s do something tonight.”
    I laughed.  “I have no business doing anything other than grading final essays until they’re done.”
    He got closer to me and dropped his voice.  We hadn’t said anything to anyone on campus about our relationship …but I wasn’t even sure that was what we’d call it.  But that explained why he kept his voice quiet and also why he didn’t touch me.  “Once you unwind, the grading will go quickly.  You need a little downtime.  Trust me on this.”
    I smiled.  I knew he was right.  Besides, even if I had locked myself inside my apartment with no intent of leaving before I completed my tasks, I would have found other distractions…like writing, for example.  “Okay, so what do you have in mind?”
    “Night club.”
    “Night club?   You mean the one here in Winchester?”  I’d never been there.  I preferred small bars to dance clubs.  I wasn’t much of a dancer anyway.
    “Yeah.   Why not?”
    I shrugged.  “I don’t even know what to wear.”
    His eyes lit up.  “You could wear something like that red dress you wore the night you came to my place when we first got together.”
    We had gotten together, hadn’t we?  Even though Roman continued to feel like a friend, my mind was starting to think maybe he could be something more—if I’d just let go of the notion that we had to stay just friends.  Maybe he was reading my mind, because he touched my cheek.  And I let him.  In public.   “Okay,” I agreed, because I wanted to make him happy.
    When I got to my apartment, though, I realized the pickings were slim.  I just didn’t have many sexy clothes, because I’d been playing the college instructor for so long…and the music fan.  I had a few items of clothing that might qualify as sexy and my blue bikini was one of them.
    Rifling through closets and drawers, though, I came up with a possibility.  I found that I wanted Roman to like my choices.  I wanted to turn him on.  I wanted to look appealing to him.  No one else mattered to me.
    I found a snug black miniskirt that hugged my ass and a silver blouse with super short sleeves and a plunging neckline that accentuated what cleavage I had.  There was lots of skin for Roman’s eyes to see.  I threw on a pair of tall black heels and proclaimed it good.
    Well, good enough.  I knew I’d be able to write the hell out of it later.
    When Roman arrived at my place to pick me up, he said, “Damn.  We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.”  He really liked the blouse and pulled me into a tight embrace.
    “This was your idea, pal.  We’re going.”
    W hen we got to the nightclub, we had a quick drink.  They were crazy expensive, though, and on a teacher’s salary, it was way too much to pay.  We didn’t really need to drink, anyway.  Then we hit the dance floor, and I felt awkward.  I