Who was I, simply the provider of domestic tranquility? Financially well off, I became a Nordstrom's and Saks' Fifth Avenue attired ornament who spent...half a day once a week at a salon, maintained shoulder-length hair, bathed in a bubble bath, used exotic lotions to keep a supple skin and layered it with expensive French lingerie. I drove an SL500 cream-colored hardtop Mercedes with a vanity license plate, in short, a stereotype rich, bitch, ornament, a title that didn’t annoy me.It kept me. “Then maybe you’ll stop making references I don’t get.”I gulped.“Wait, no,” Ali said, frowning. “Then I won’t get to orgasm sitting on your face.”I breathed a sigh of relief.“Wait, you can cause orgasms through telepathic powers,” she said, nodding.I gulped again.I didn’t ask where we were going. At first. Because I figured that, like all grumpy mentors who taught their young but handsome and talented students who were destined to go and save the galaxy from evil, Sherkaner wouldn’t be. More

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