Page 67 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

I hope everything is going okay.

No pressure to answer. I know you’re working.

I’m still awake.

I pressed her name and received a half a ring when she answered.

“Hey.”

“Were you asleep?”

“No. I was watching television.”

“In bed?”

“Yes.”

“What are you wearing?”

She laughed softly. “Is that how you plan to make up for missing dinner?”

“It’s how I plan to survive until I can see you.”

“Well, I’m wearing a large T-shirt and a thong.”

“Fuccccccck.”

She giggled again.

“What color?”

“My shirt is gray.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I know.”

I leaned back and closed my eyes.

“Pink,” she said.

The image came too easily. I imagined her pink pussy covering the thong around brown flesh and my dick became hard as a brick.

“Are you finished?” she asked.

“With surgery. I’m waiting for an updated examination before I leave.”

“How is your patient?”

“Stable.”

“Thank God.”

“Yes.”

Her responses continued to give me a look into the woman she was. Mr. Dawson was a stranger to her, yet she carried concern for him because he mattered to me tonight.

“Did you eat?” she asked.