Something Amazing by M. Clarke

Author:M. Clarke [Clarke, M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
Amazon: B00PV27618
Barnesnoble: B00PV27618
Goodreads: 22907355
Publisher: M. Clarke
Published: 2015-01-10T16:00:00+00:00

I didn’t know if he was teasing or if he was serious. Feelings for Jax suddenly came rushing through. This was bad. I’m all the way across the States and he’s on my mind again.

I better go.

Tell your date he might have your company, but I have the naked picture of you plastered on my ceiling.

What? Naked pictures. There are no naked pictures. LOL!

Shoving my phone back in my purse, I peered up to Marcus. It was the first long eye contact he had given me since we got there. Perhaps he was upset with me. What were we talking about? Oh, yeah. “Jill tells me you’re a doctor.”

Marcus’s eyes fell back down to the table. “Yes, I am. I’m a gynecologist.”

“Oh. Do you deliver babies as well?”

“No. I look at women’s vaginas and breasts all day long. I mean…I examine them. I think women’s bodies are fascinating.” Marcus’s eyes glistened from the candlelight, and he continued. “For example, just by rubbing the tip of the clitoris, liquid starts forming. And simply by pinching the nipples, one can stimulate sexual desire, making the vagina pulsate.”

Holy shit! He did not say this to me. Either he was a huge pervert acting as a doctor, or he really enjoyed describing women’s body. He started looking nervous again. I was sure it was caused by my mouth that had just dropped open.

I jerked when I felt the table shaking like a mini earthquake. I panicked at first until I realized Marcus was causing it. “Marcus, are you okay?”

Marcus stared at me in horror. “I’m so sorry. It’s a bad habit of mine.”

“That’s okay. We all get a little nervous. Would you like bread?” Just as I reached over for the basket set in the middle of the table, Marcus extended his arm out. Our hands collided, causing him to jump back into his seat, and at the same time he knocked over his glass of water. Unable to see water streaming across the table, I was too late to stop it from falling on my lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasped, and stood up. When he reached over to hand me his cloth napkin, he knocked over my glass of water, too. Now I was soaking wet. Not only were my legs freaking cold, water was dripping from my dress onto the hardwood floor below, creating a puddle.

I peered up in horror, with both of my hands held up in surrender. “Can you take me home?”

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