Page 1 of Pleasuring Professor Pisces
EARLY JUNE
“I’d rather not exchangenames or info,” I declared sweetly, stirring my fruity pink and red drink.
“That sounds like you’ve got plans for doing some exciting and adventurous shit on this vacation.”
“I’ve got plans for doing someoneexciting and adventurous,” I replied with a tiny twist of my lips.
The man seated on the chair beside me had been striving to get my attention all weekend. I had done an amazing job of giving him hope without giving in. But my time was winding down, and tonight was the last night here. I’d promised mysister, Primrose, that I would have fun and throw all my troubles into the ocean of forgetfulness.
I was on a mini vacation with my best friend, Chelsea; my older sister, Primrose; and her best friend, Whitney. We had spent the last three days on Sorrel Island, a little island off the coast of Georgia. It was just a short, two-hour flight from my home in Cherokee Springs, Georgia.
We had just ended the school year, and after all I had gone through these last couple of years, I was on the fence about whether I should return to work. As a result, my sister planned this mini vacation to boost my spirits.
Whitney was in her room, drunk off her ass. My sister was attending to her, and my best friend, Chelsea, was dancing with some dreadlocked guy not too far away. My sister and Whitney had been trying to set both Chelsea and me up all weekend. They were both happily married, and Chelsea and I were single with no prospects in sight.
The man tilted his head slightly. “The island has adventure and excitement, and I’m sure you’ve had time to explore all of that.”
“I have.”
“How about you change your plans then?”
“For?”
“Something bold and strong.”
“Mm. I like the sound of that. Sounds tasty. Like a nice, good liquor.”
“Better than the finest Macallan, baby.”
“Oh. Are you willing to show me where I can find it?”
He stood and reached for my hand. I sipped the last of my drink, took his hand, and hopped off my stool. I caught a glimpse of Chelsea, and I waved at her as I pointed to the man behind his back and winked.
She smiled, gave me the thumbs-up sign, and returned her attention to her dance partner.
“Beautiful, all weekend, I’ve tried to get your name. You’ve conversed with me about everything under the sun, debated with me on gun laws, book bans, and college education. Yet, I still don’t know your name.”
I smiled, thought for three seconds, and then I replied. “Pisces.”
“Pisces? As in the fish?”
“One and the same.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
“And yours?”
An easy, beautiful, white smile lit the features of his dark, sepia-toned face. His skin color was rich and hinted at Indian ancestry. He wore his hair short on the sides, and I could tell by the natural wave pattern of his hair that it was soft. I imagined plowing my fingers through it.
“Sig.”
“Sig?”
“Yes.”
“As in cigarette or Sig Sauer?”
“The gun.”
