Free New Amsterdam: Tess by Ashley Pullo Page A

Sinclair the adorable honey heiress, you were a sexy woman I wanted to fuck,” he’d explained flatly.
    Had she changed? Or had she actually conquered New York on her own? Either way, Mason had tested her intentions and gave her hope all in the same breath that night. And even now, as she crosses the street to meet her former lover in control of their confusing relationship, Thessaly wonders if she should quickly shave her legs and change into a lace thong, or make some biscuits with honey butter and get out the wedding magazines.
    Approaching the steps to her apartment building, Thessaly spots the man with the peacock feathers lounging on the tiny camping stool against the wall of the next building. Stretching out his long, tan legs, he glances at Thessaly, and then returns his attention to a cardboard sign in his lap.
    Walking toward him, Thessaly says with a friendly smile, “We meet again.”
    Looking up from the cardboard sign briefly, the man smirks. Returning his attention to the sign, he takes a long string, wraps it around the end of a marker, pierces a hole through the cardboard, and then ties the string to the sign. Flipping it around and displaying it on the wall beside him, Thessaly bends to read the text.
    LOVE IS ____________
    The man offers Thessaly the marker, but she retreats in fear.
    Not wanting to scare her away, the man tries to lighten the mood by writing: Starbucks.
    Embarrassed and offended by his attempt at humor, Thessaly backs away from the alcove and rushes to the safety of her apartment building.
    Asshole. He doesn’t know me.
    Love is Starbucks? Ha! With extra caramel, maybe.
    What is love?
    Love is . . .
    “Love is a battlefield,” she blurts.
    Taking the stairs to clear her head, Thessaly tries to imitate Pat Benatar, but her pitchy voice echoes throughout the stairwell. When she reaches her floor, she grabs an invisible microphone and performs a dramatic finale before opening the door.
    Inside her apartment, Thessaly lights a candle that promises to bring the allure of a Bahamian vacation, lowers her shades, and powers on the Bose speakers. Dancing to her favorite R.E.M. song, she removes her bra and changes into a flouncy kimono shirt and red leggings. Pleased with her casual yet chic attire, she darts to the bathroom to freshen up. She brushes her teeth, spritzes on some perfume, and tops off her you-know-you-want-me look by applying ruby red lipstick.
    Hyper but still needing a quick fix, she settles for a can of whipped cream stashed in the refrigerator. Careful not to smear her lipstick, she sprays the cold cream in her mouth and swallows. Replacing the cap to the can, she tosses it back in the refrigerator just as there’s a knock on the door.
    Shit!
    She takes a deep breath and then unlocks the door. Leaning against the door frame with a cocky smile is Mason, dressed in a white dress shirt and loosened tie. He runs his hand through his chestnut hair, and then guides Thessaly back into the apartment with his body.
    “Hey,” he says.
    “Hi,” she replies.
    Dropping a small white bakery box tied with floss to the floor, Mason presses her against the living room wall and breathes into her hair. “Dessert.”

“My first acting audition as an adult was for an off-Broadway play in the role of Hooker #2. I didn’t get the part.”

Chapter Five
     “But it was good, right?”
    “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. Debating whether or not it was good is a waste of time – it was sex.”
    “So it was good,” Seth stresses with a grin.
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Seth. We can’t do this – I barely like you.” Meg jumps from her bed, yanking the sheet from Seth to drape around her naked body like a giant cape.
    Grabbing his boxers from the floor, Seth slowly stands up and stretches. “Oh, you like me. You like my tongue all over your breasts, and you really like my dick jammed . . .”
    “Ohmigod, no.” Meg shakes her head as she darts to the bathroom. Slamming the door and