Dr. Marcus Jones is world-famous for inventing a procedure to make cardiac surgery quicker and safer. He's achieved much in the ten years since he graduated from medical school, including accumulating more wealth than he'd ever dreamed of, growing up in the projects in Chicago. The one area in his life that he's not been successful at is his personal life. His lawyer-wife is divorcing him--but then he was never head-over-heels in love with her. He's only felt that way about one woman--the one he dated back in college--the one who got away. But he didn't get to be rich and famous by not pursuing his dreams. And she's never been good at saying No. When he finds her name on the internet he contacts her, determined to see if he can rekindle what they once had together, back when he could only spare one night a week away from his studies, and his world revolved around Tuesdays.
Medical student Marcus spent the night with Melanie a week ago. But he can only afford to go to the bars for one beer every other Tuesday. So tonight he's studying.
Marcus was deep into his homework a week later. His roommate was already asleep, having pulled two successive all-nighters in order to pass his most recent tests. Marcus was studying with the light shaded, trying to see, but really having to force himself to concentrate. He knew it was Tuesday night, and he also knew that he had no money this week. She probably wouldn't care. She'd either buy me a beer or offer me one back at her place. But I can't go into the bar with no money. And what if I show up at her place and she has a man up there already? He sighed, trying to concentrate on mitochondrial DNA and the role it played in proving evolutionary theories. Don't think about her breasts with those hard nipples. Don't think about how she smells--how she tastes--or how she looks when she arches her back from an orgasm that I gave her. He realized that he was hard again, that he was sweating profusely, and that there was someone knocking on his door. Swearing under his breath at his situation, he stalked over to the door and swung it open, expecting to see someone wanting to borrow his calculator. In his current mood, he was ready to be belligerent with the intruder. "Hi-ya Marcus! I know it's Tuesday night, but not the right one for you, right? Well, I just got a check in the mail from my folks because I told them I needed a couple more books. I downloaded one of them as an ebook and borrowed the other one from a friend. Thus I find myself with a little bit of extra cash. What can I do with this extra money? I asked myself. Then, thinking altruistically of course, I remembered that you're so skinny because the food in the dorms sucks so bad. Yeah, I remember. My acne acts up just thinking about eating here. Yuck! No one wants to live here past freshman year. The fact that you have to just bites the big one. So anyway, I thought of you and your big--you know--appetite." She smiled at him in a wicked way, licking her lips, letting him know just what she had been thinking about. "So how about you and I take a stroll down to the Pizza Pit and split a pitcher of beer and a pizza? The surest way to know if you're compatible with someone is what kind of shit you like on your pizza, right? I mean, like if you wanted dead fish or anything gross like that, I'd either have to dump your ass immediately, or at least make you bring a toothbrush along, so you could brush before I kiss you again. Which reminds me--" She pasted herself to the front of him, twining one of her legs up and around behind his ass, wrapping her arms around him, and pulled him down for a very long, arousing kiss. After a few sweaty moments, during which he wondered if his sleeping roommate would notice if he dragged her into his room and nailed her against the wall, just to take the edge off, she pushed him back. "Phew! Even better than I remembered. Marcus, you da man. I knew you were good enough to drag back to my bed for another round. Let's go eat. Food first--then each other for the rest of the night. Okay?" She smiled as she licked up his neck, rubbing herself against him. "You coming?" "Honey, you keep rubbing on me like that, and I will be before we even get out of my doorway."
4 out of 5 (very good)
Independent Reviewer for Archaeolibrarian - I Dig Good Books!
Two for Tuesday is an erotic, very sensual story. Not only does it draw you into a heady sexual relationship but it highlights the differences between different social backgrounds... Mel being a more country girl and Marcus being from the city.
Colour is only really referred to once or so, the cheeky stereotype... which Mel clears up by saying she's gone back and forth over that line haha.
I like both characters, though Marcus was a tad needy, but it didn't make it any less enjoyable... just more realistic.
Bit of a spoiler... it gives hope that things can happen/get back on track after years apart. Also that sexual chemistry can't always be worn out!!
Definitely an adult only read.....to be read alone as it gets pretty hot and very detailed!
** same worded review will appear elsewhere **
* A copy of this book was provided to me with no requirements for a review. I voluntarily read this book, and the comments here are my honest opinion. *
I keep busy with multiple jobs, and have to squeeze in writing when I should be sleeping. As often as possible, I go out with my family, or just my husband, to view the night stars around a campfire. Stories present themselves to me while driving, while dreaming, and especially while camping. I write romances that involve strong, independent women who don't mind casual flings, but who are not looking to fall in love. Enter the man who decides this is the woman for him. I thinks that how they ultimately both realize that they have found the one, is the most interesting part of a romance. I have been a reader since I was 5, when Mom taught me how to read her the newspaper while she was cooking. Ever since then, I have always had characters intruding into my thoughts, showing scenes from their lives. When I ignore them, they start to yell louder; if I write their stories so they can live in readers' heads as well, they usually leave me alone--until the next voices appear. I like the noise.