Read Online Sugar by Hope Tarr, Jenna Jameson - Free Book Online

one black-tie fund-raiser after another, always with a different stunning woman as arm candy, she felt her post-coital high from that morning dip. Even if she was willing to risk the publicity, which she wasn’t, a man like Cole Canning wouldn’t be caught dead in public with a porn star. Fortunately he wouldn’t have to risk it. The information exchange had been one-sided. She hadn’t given him her phone number—or her last name.
    “By the way, did he say what the ‘A’ stood for?” Liz’s question startled her back to the present. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. Awesome?” She grinned.
    Guilty at having drifted, Sarah repeated, “The A?”
    Liz gave her an exasperated look. “His middle initial.”
    “Oh, right. I didn’t ask.” Once they’d gotten past the standoff over the cell phone, they hadn’t done much talking beyond random exclamations of pleasure. Regrettably that awesome sexual satisfaction would never see a second act.
    As if reading her thoughts, Liz asked, “When are you going to see him again?”
    “I’m not,” Sarah said and left it at that.
    Liz’s smile slipped. “Why not?”
    Sarah hesitated. “Last night was a onetime shot, a slice-of-life moment, nothing more. Besides, like you said, he has women lining up to fuck him.”
    Liz lowered her voice. “Excuse me, Miss AVN Hall of Famer, it’s not like you’re chopped liver.” She sank back against the headrest with a sigh. “You gotta grab your bliss while you can. Believe me, if I were in your place, I’d be texting him right now to set up meet-up numero duo.” She glanced down at her flattened chest, and her eyes filled. “Sorry.” She swung her face away. “Chalk it up to the chemo brain— first foggy thoughts and now poor impulse control.”
    Heart in her throat, Sarah reached out and caught a fat teardrop on its downward roll. “Liz, honey, it’s going to be okay.”
    “Yeah, I know, it’s just . . .” Dropping her Popsicle stick onto the tray, she turned to look at Sarah. “My breasts, I really miss them, you know?”
    It was all Sarah could do to swallow over the lump lining her throat. “Sweetie, I can’t even imagine.”
    Liz reached for the box of tissues. “All those years, they were such a big part of who I was. When the script called for a brunette with big tits, I was the go-to girl. And now look at me—no tits, no hair. Shit, I don’t even eyebrows anymore.”
    “They’ll grow back in after you finish the treatment, your hair too.”
    So far as Sarah knew, that was true. Over the past several weeks, she’d blown through the brochures in the waiting room and then visited every reputable medical web site she could find. By now she had the cycle of treatment, side effects, and recovery memorized. Like an adult film, the process was highly formulaic, even scripted—only cancer’s script seriously sucked.
    Liz paused to wipe her nose. “Yeah, I know. Too bad my boobs won’t grow back, huh?”
    Sarah reached out and gently squeezed her friend’s shoulder, feeling sharp, knobby bone where once generous flesh had been. “Give reconstruction a shot. Plastics have advanced light years from what was possible just ten years ago. They’re doing amazing things.” Jesus, could she possibly sound more like an infomercial!
    “I will. I mean, assuming I . . . get that far.”
    What she meant was if she survived. Sarah fought back the panic that came with considering the alternative. She would not cry, not when Liz was going through so much and being so brave about it all.
    “You’ll get there. You will . You’re the strongest person I know.” The latter wasn’t only a pep talk. It was the truth.
    “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But if something—”
    “Don’t say it.”
    Liz reached out, gripping her hand. “Sarah, please, I have to say it, and you have to let me. I’m fighting this shit with all I’ve got, but we both know that might not be enough. In case it’s not, in case I, you know,