Boy Toy

by Sarina Bowen

  “And that would be a problem because…” I really don’t understand Meg sometimes.

  “Because,” she says all exasperated like. “I like my men older, wiser, and more experienced.”

  There’s something in there that gives me pause. “You really like older men?” I ask tentatively, just testing it out. “They don’t scare you with their...potential…” What am I afraid of here? “Oldness?”

  She laughs again. “I love you to pieces, sis. But no. Older guys are just more interesting. And they know how to go down on a girl and do more than windshield wiper their tongue. God, I fucking hate windshield wipers.”

  I don’t comment on that because I wouldn’t know. Decker was not adventurous down south. He was mainly northern. And when he did take a rare trip south of the Mason-Dixon Line, it felt almost like he was using his tongue to press an elevator button that wasn’t showing up.

  “Sorry to change the subject on who you should be intimate with,” I whisper. I don’t want the girls to hear this conversation. “But it should not be that doctor.”

  “Okay,” she says, but I’m not sure she means, Okay, I agree with you, or Okay, let’s move on.

  So I just move on.

  “Do you think there are men out there who...like...older...women?” I venture.

  Megan immediately reacts and jumps to conclusions. They’re the right conclusions, but still. “Whoa there, sis! Who’s made a pass at you? And why are you on the phone with me and not fucking him into tomorrow?”

  Well, damn. She knows me too well. I thought I could just slide that question through, and she’d give me a hypothetical answer. And I can’t ask Ash and Brynn without them guessing that I’m thinking about Liam. The hunky hunky Liam.

  “Um, speaking of tomorrow, what are your plans?”

  “DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT. WHO IS THE YOUNG STUD?”

  “Shush!” I say into the phone. “Or the girls will come running.”

  Right now they’re entertained with thinking putty and some Mozart on the stereo. Kate, by the way, has already forgotten her epic face plant. She stopped complaining the moment I handed her a little container of yogurt raisins and goldfish crackers. She happily ate the crackers and then spat the raisins across the room, one by one.

  Both girls thought that was hysterical. And I let her get away with it because of her near miss with a head injury.

  “Who. Is. He?” my sister hisses.

  “It’s…” Oh man. Do I tell her? “Do you remember Liam McAll…” I don’t even give her the last name before she’s freaking out. I literally have to hold the phone away from my ear while she’s shrieking things like HOLY FUCK. And HE’S SO FUCKING DOPE and then there’s some more swearing.

  “Ow,” I complain when she quiets down. “Is that kind of volume necessary?”

  “Yes! Because Liam made a pass at my big sister. He grew up so fucking fine.” She sighs.

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “Tell me everything. Where did you see him? Was there flirting? Or did he actually just come out and offer to put some motion in your ocean?”

  “My…” That is not an appealing metaphor. “He babysat the girls one night when I went out on a date who turned out to be a loser. And, well, I told him it had been...a while. And he offered to help me out with my dry spell.”

  “I’m hyperfuckingventilating,” she says. “Saddle up, cowgirl. Do. It. And yes—it’s a legit thing that some men love cougars. And that’s what you are, right? The horny divorcee out for the prowl for the young stud, ready to educate him and…”

  “Although,” I say, and really quietly I add, “I threw up in front of him, so he probably doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore. And all of this is just hypothetical anyway,” I offer, even though it clearly isn’t.

  “You threw up?” she asks, sounding concerned. “Flu?”

  “No, sluts,” I say. “Hold on a sec.” I hear a knock at the door and peer around the corner. I only have to see his outline standing in front of the screen door to know. It’s Liam. I can smell lemons in the air and if I had a penis, it’d be waving hello. “Remember, no messing around with marrieds! Gotta go!” I say and hang up on her. She’ll forgive me. Because we’re sisters.

  I hear the scampering of the girls’ feet and then a chorus of Liams. “Come in!” I call, but the girls have already swung the door open and have grabbed ahold of him like piranha starting to feed. God, are they actually biting him? That would be terrible.

  I wonder if I could join in?

  “Hi!” I say then add, “again.”

  The girls have grabbed hold of his forearm and now he’s lifting them and lowering them repeatedly. Holy shit. Hello, muscles! “Hope I’m not interrupting,” he says.

  “Nope. Not at all.” I was just talking to my sister about how badly I want to jump you. No biggie. There’s no way he could have heard me from the front porch, right? My cheeks heat even though I know it’s impossible. “The girls and I were just about to take a walk,” I invent. But they could use a walk. It’s warm out and we’re only a couple of blocks from the park.

  “Mind if I join you?” He grins and so obviously I can’t refuse. Having already done ten arm lifts with the girls, he lowers them to the floor. “Oh, but before we head out, any chance you can sign that paperwork for me? If you’re comfortable with the study. No pressure.”

  Oh. For some reason I’d thought this was a social call. I’m weirdly disappointed that he had another reason to see me. “Of course. No problem. I would’ve signed it at the center but…”

  “Face plant,” he says.

  “Golden Band-Aid!” Kate screams.

  “I want Gold Band-Aid,” Amy says.

  He squats down and looks her in the eyes, very seriously. “One day, I promise you, Amy, it will happen.”

  “When?” she asks.

  “When you least expect it.”

  This seems to appease her. “Piggypoo,” she says.

  “Piggypoo can have one too, when that day comes.”

  She nods. They’ve come to an agreement. And I think my ovaries just pinged. Decker was never as tender, and never took the girls as seriously. Stop it, ovaries. No pinging allowed.

  I sign the paperwork happily and hand it back to him. “So…”

  “Walk?” he asks and I nod.

  * * *

  Liam

  We’re pushing the double stroller and the girls run on ahead of us, hair bouncing, Piggypoo flopping in Amy’s arms. Kate’s got her helmet on just in case she feels like tackling something. And she always feels like tackling something, usually me.

  It occurs to me that a passerby would think we were a family out for an after-dinner summer stroll. The thought does not make my gonads retreat like it did in my early twenties. I’ve always wanted a family. I should be so lucky to have one with a woman like Sadie.

  We’re quiet for a bit listening to birdsong and the girls’ feet running ahead of us.

  “I have a confession to make,” Sadie says. Fourteen-year-old Liam immediately reacts. Please say you want to touch my boner! Pleeeeeease!

  I tell him to shut up. First, not appropriate. Second, there is no boner. Yet.

  “And that is?” I ask all smooth like, because she can’t hear my inner fourteen-year-old.

  “My goal here is to utterly exhaust the girls so that when we’re walking back, they’re passed out happily in their stroller and will sleep soundly till dawn.”

  Is she going to take me up on my offer of curing her of her sexual drought? Because I am totally down with that. “Big plans tonight?” I ask lightly.

  “My girlfriends are coming over. It’s Netflix and cheesecake night.”

  “Netflix and cheesecake?”

  “Yep. Ash brings the booze. I supply the movies. And Brynn brings a bunch of cheesecake. It’s all she wants to eat right now.”

  “She’s the pregnant one, right?”

  “Yep. Any day now, we think, she’ll pop.”

 
“Sounds...painful.”

  Sadie rubs her hand across her forehead. It’s hot and she’s been pushing the stroller. I make a motion to her and she nods, letting me take over. “Let me guess,” I say. “The cheesecake is gluten-free and vegan friendly?” I’ve noticed all the super healthy snacks she packs for the girls. Even gluten-free goldfish crackers.

  “Hardly. Brynn cooks or bakes whatever she wants and we eat it. No questions asked.”

  “Sounds a little…”

  “Fattening? You haven’t tried her food. Once you do you’ll understand. I mean, I’d say I’m about 75% vegetarian and organic and 25% Brynn. She’s her own food group.”

  This is yet another reason why I really want to spend more time with Sadie, so I can get to know her friends. I want to know everything about her.

  “Kate! Do not head-butt that tree!” Sadie calls.

  Kate stops running and glares at Sadie.

  “Why?!”

  “What did that tree do to you?”

  Kate thinks about it and then hugs the tree instead, then rushes to catch up to her sister. The park is just at the top of this hill. I can hear a baseball game in progress. Dogs barking. The creak of swings soaring toward the blue sky.

  “I love this neighborhood,” I sigh. “Kids need physical activity. People are so obsessed with early childhood learning, but kids at this age learn by moving their bodies. They can memorize the alphabet later.”

  “Exactly!” Sadie says, beaming. “And an early bedtime is good for me when I need some quiet time with my friends.”

  “Agreed. A happy mom is a better mom.” And oh, how I could make her happy.

  “Almost there!” Sadie pants as we climb the last few meters. “I thought we’d never make it. It’s so hot!” I can see the shimmer of sweat on Sadie’s warm, toned skin. It’s probably beading in between her breasts, down her navel, between her legs…

  Shut up, teen Liam!

  As much as I want to envision Sadie’s breasts, and her navel, and all the places I’d like to visit, I can’t right now. I’m busy pushing this double stroller up a really big hill and flex my arm muscles at the same time. This is part of the mating dance. I’m off-gassing manly pheromones right now. It’s science.

  Finally we reach the shady playground, and the twins take off toward the sandbox first.

  “Oh, hell.” Sadie sighs. “Not the sandbox.”

  “Germs?” I guess.

  “Germs aren’t the problem,” she says. “Dirt is natural. I do have a problem with all the sand they get in their shoes and socks. No matter how many times I vacuum, there’s always more. It’s like living at the beach, without the ocean view.”

  “I don’t know how you do it all. The kids. The job. The house. Do you ever sleep?”

  “Every other Tuesday,” she says. “Kate! Don’t put that sand down your pants!” She takes off running, and fourteen-year-old Liam admires her ass as she goes.

  Twenty-nine-year-old Liam does, too.

  * * *

  An hour later we’re walking back down the hill toward home. “Will you catch one, and I’ll catch the other?” Sadie asks me when it was time to go, but the twins aren’t willing to get into the stroller.

  “Of course. Catching toddlers is literally my job.”

  “Yeah, but you’re off the clock. You can snag Amy. She’s easy.”

  “I’ll tackle Kate,” I offer. “I like a challenge.”

  Her pretty face gets a starry expression when I say this, which means my mating ritual is totally working. My lizard brain is calling out to her lizard brain. I read about that in Nature, once.

  “Ready?” I say. “Go!”

  Sixty seconds later we have two exhausted toddlers strapped into the stroller. Kate screams at the injustice, her little round face going red.

  “No yellin’,” her sister grunts.

  About seven seconds later, they’re both passed out, their two heads leaning toward one another, like a couple of bookends.

  Sadie wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. “Thank you. That’s so much easier with two people.”

  I’m sure it would be. So where the hell is her husband? What kind of guy can walk away from his wife and his own children? It boggles the mind. And the balls. If I were Sadie’s man, she’d be pregnant with another set of twins, because I couldn’t keep my hands off her.

  Triplets, maybe.

  “Can we stop a sec?” Sadie asks, pointing at an ice cream truck. “I need a bottle of water.”

  “Of course.” I pull out my wallet. “Just water?”

  “I’m saving myself for cheesecake.”

  “Ah, right.” I buy a lemon ice for myself, which I drop into the stroller’s cupholder, and also her bottle of water.

  “Here.” She holds out two singles to pay for it.

  “Keep it,” I say. Call me a caveman, but I’m unable to let Sadie pay.

  “You’ve helped me enough,” she insists, as I maneuver the stroller into the shade, where we can pause beside a tree at the edge of the park. I feel a small hand slide something into my back pocket.

  I reach back, lightning fast, and catch her hand. “Are you trying to get in my pants?” I chuckle as I say it. But I swear a jolt of electricity moves through my body when I catch her hand in mine. And when I meet her gaze, I can tell she feels it, too.

  “Liam!” she whispers, scandalized.

  “Sadie!” I return, my fingers closing around her smoother ones.

  The moment stretches and takes hold. The evening sunlight gives her skin a honeyed tone, and her eyes are bright and wide. Her lips part in surprise as I stroke her palm with my thumb. But she doesn’t pull away.

  We’re like those cartoon characters with hearts in their eyes, both of us caught, just staring at each other. I can’t stop admiring her rosebud mouth—the same one I used to fantasize about when I was a teenager. And there’s a flush creeping up her cheeks. Like she can’t help it, and she can’t look away.

  So I do the obvious thing. I lean forward and take her mouth in a kiss.

  I’ve had a lot of practice kissing women. It’s not bragging to say that I don’t have trouble finding willing participants. And thank fuck for muscle memory, because my brain basically shorts out the second Sadie makes a little whimper of surprise.

  That sound goes straight to my cock. So I raise the stakes, stepping closer, owning her mouth with mine. Tasting her turns me into a brush fire. With my free hand, I reach around and pull her body closer.

  Her lips part, and I don’t miss a beat. I deepen the kiss, tilting my head to perfect the connection.

  Meanwhile, fourteen-year-old-Liam practically strokes out. Achievement Unlocked! he screams as I meld my tongue to Sadie’s, tasting her until she whimpers and throws her arms around my neck.

  I’ve been waiting for this moment for fifteen years. So I spin around and pin her against the trunk of a tree. Then I give her one last, urgent kiss. Okay, three more.

  But then I stop.

  No, really. I pull myself back from the heat of Sadie’s perfect mouth, and I look down at her. She’s panting and red-cheeked, and looking up at me, dazed and desperate. “This is happening,” I tell her.

  “Wh-what is?”

  “You and me. Naked on a bed. Or a kitchen counter, or in the shower.”

  She says, “unngh.”

  “I’ll let you pick the room of the house. Or the backyard. But this is happening. Soon. Maybe this weekend.”

  “Liam, we couldn’t possibly. The girls...”

  “Are terrific sleepers,” I point out, casting a meaningful glance into the stroller, where they’re dead to the world. “This isn’t about them. They’ll never know. This is about you and me getting some exercise.”

  “Exercise?” she whispers.

  “Oh hell yes. We both need some very energetic sex. You’ve been a nun for two years. And I’ve been waiting half my life to get you naked. Our time is now.”

  She swallows. Hard. And she loo
ks awfully flushed.

  “Here.” I take the bottle of water out of the cupholder and twist off the cap. “Drink this and cool down.”

  She takes several gulps. “It’s not working.”

  “That’s because you know I’m right. There’s only one way that fire you’re feeling goes out.” Her eyes widen, and I think fourteen-year-old Liam is impressed at this bit of persuasion. “There isn’t a single reason why we can’t get together this weekend for a night of no-strings sex. I’ll pull out all the stops. But it’s just for fun, right? If you don’t enjoy yourself, we don’t have to do it again.”

  Sadie fans herself.

  “Saturday, then? Unless you have plans?”

  “No pl-plans,” she stammers. “But…”

  “See you Saturday,” I say. “Drink that water, okay? You look flushed.”

  Then I grab the lemon ice out of the cupholder, wave at Sadie with the plastic spoon, and turn around. I walk away, knowing her eyes are stapled to my ass. A weaker man would turn and check. But I don’t need to.

  Fourteen-year-old Liam runs off to make popcorn and waits to see what happens next.

  8 Netflix, Cheesecake & Cougars

  Sadie

  I can’t breathe. I really can’t. And breathing is good, necessary even, especially when lugging two boneless toddlers and tucking them in for nighty night.

  As I pull the stroller up to my back porch, I have one of those panicked moments when I have to choose who to bring inside first, and who waits in the backyard? Single-parenting twins is just plain hard. And even though I live in a safe neighborhood, it’s not a choice I can make. So I prop the door open and start unbuckling the girls. I’ll carry them at the same time, drawing on my inner feminine power to buck up and just do it.

  Luckily, I don’t have to. Just as I prop the door open, there’s Ash and Brynn staring out at me. They’re right in my personal space, and for a second it scares the shit out of me. And it also forces me to start breathing again, so….win?

  “Hi,” Brynn says.