by Nina Lane
“I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. I still wasn’t sure I’d escaped my mother’s shadow.
“So UCLA, hmm?” I said in an attempt to change the subject. “I went to UCSF. How long were you there?”
Any worries I’d had about making such a long drive alone with Mr. Hunter quickly disappeared. Our sizzling attraction aside, he was easy company, and his breadth of knowledge and life experiences made him a wonderful conversationalist. We talked about vacations to Europe and New York, his work with an environmental organization, my job at the museum, national education policies, and our compromise about the school budget.
Even slowed by rush-hour traffic, we were driving across the Golden Gate Bridge before I knew it. The sun began descending as he continued north, past the rolling hills of Marin County and into Sonoma. The wide, sparkling expanse of the ocean came into view just as an evening fog began to drift toward shore. Winding roads led to the small towns dotting the coast.
We drove through the village of Crescent Bay, which had a grocery store, a few pubs and restaurants, and several tourist shops and art galleries. Several miles beyond downtown, Mr. Hunter pulled up beside a cottage nestled on a secluded cove of the beach.
I got out of the car, inhaling a deep breath of cold, salty air. Undiluted pleasure filled me. The rhythmic crash of ocean waves echoed against the pine and redwood trees, and the sun cast a reddish glow against the gray clouds.
“Does this belong to your parents?” I asked, as he retrieved our bags and we walked to the red-painted front door.
“No, I bought it as a present to myself when I graduated,” he explained, unlocking the door. “Place to get away, hang out at the beach, do some hiking and fishing. I don’t get up here as much as I’d like to, though.”
I followed him inside, charmed by the rustic, wood-and-wicker furnishings, the fishing net draped over a wall, the collection of seashells, the tiny kitchen with a windowed breakfast nook. There was only the kitchen, a living room, bathroom, and bedroom, but with the vast ocean and woods outside, the house was a perfect size.
“It’s beautiful, Mr. Hunter,” I said, pulling up a rattan shade to look at the view of the ocean.
“Maddie.” He sounded like he was smiling. “I have to insist you call me Ben.”
I turned, my heart kicking into gear at the sight of him standing there with his hands in his pockets, his grin so engagingly boyish that I was struck anew with the reminder he was at least seven or eight years younger than me.
And yet he was so much more experienced in so many ways that I was clearly the novice here. My nerves tensed at the thought. I didn’t know if I could do all the things he was expecting or wanted me to do… not that I had any idea what those were. Yet.
“Ben,” I allowed, his name tasting both foreign and delicious on my tongue.
“Good.” He approached me, reaching to cup my chin in his hand, lifting my face to look at him.
In addition to his experience, his physical presence was overwhelming, especially in the small space of the cottage. I wasn’t short, but my eyes were on a level with his mouth, and his broad shoulders and muscular chest were like a solid wall of heat trapping me against the window.
My blood quivered. Did he already want to…?
“Say it again,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across my lower lip.
“Ben.” This time, the sound lodged somewhere in my heart.
He smiled and lowered his head to kiss me—his mouth covering mine with warm, firm pressure. My senses zinged with pleasure, a palpable energy filling the space between us. I parted my lips under his, welcoming the sweep of his tongue as the kiss deepened. I started to fall into him, my body curving against his in surrender.
Ben lifted his head, his eyes creasing with a smile. “If I start this now, I won’t be able to stop,” he said. “And I’d actually like to take you out on a date first.”
I blinked. I hadn’t been on a date in twenty years.
“A date?” I almost smiled. “After what we did in your office, that seems a bit backward.”
“I never did like doing things the conventional way.” Ben tilted his head toward the bedroom. “Go ahead and get settled in. I need to check on a few things, and then I’ll take you out for the best seafood dinner you’ve ever had.”
He kissed me again and patted my bottom as I passed him to the bedroom. I unpacked a few things, my tension easing. For the next two days, I’d stop thinking about what I was doing and just focus on enjoying it. Heaven knew I wanted to, as much as guilt tried to overwhelm my desire.
Now, I refused to let it. I checked my phone for messages, texted Richard that I’d “arrived safely,” and took a quick shower in the big, claw-footed tub. I dressed in jeans and a beige cable-knit sweater. I hadn’t packed my usual arsenal of crisp suits and linen sheaths—though tailored, designer clothes were part of my armor, it was a decided relief to leave them behind.
After Ben showered and changed, we pulled on our jackets and walked a mile back to where a ramshackle, brightly painted building sat facing the ocean. Chipped wooden tables, all packed with customers, cluttered the interior. The air hummed with laughter, conversation, and music from a jukebox in the corner.
Ben slipped his hand under my elbow as we navigated to a just-vacated table by the window. I liked how he treated me. He walked close enough to make me aware of his presence while still giving me space. He didn’t touch me excessively or do anything to make me feel uncomfortable in a public place. It was incredibly nice to be treated with attention and care.
“Sit here, ma’am.” The waiter touched a chair that faced the window. “You’ll have a better view.”
“Actually,” Ben said, sitting across from me, “I have the better view.”
Even the waiter smiled at that.
After we’d given our drink orders, the waiter recited the specials before leaving us to study the menus.
“Do you trust me?” Ben asked.
I looked at him in surprise, wondering why he needed to ask when the answer was so obvious. After seventeen years of marriage, it was a strange shock to realize I probably trusted Ben—a man who’d instigated an affair with a married woman—more than I’d ever trusted anyone.
“Of course,” I finally said. “I trust you.”
“Let me order for you,” he said. “I promise you’ll love the food.”
Though I was a very healthy and diet-conscious eater, I set my plastic-covered menu aside. After Ben ordered a Napa Valley Chardonnay, we shared a rich, delicious clam chowder, bacon-wrapped scallops, crispy fried (fried!) shrimp, creamy coleslaw, sourdough bread dripping with real butter, and a tangy key-lime pie embellished with whipped cream.
I ate everything that was put in front of me, not once worrying about calories or fat content, and by the time we started back to the cottage, I was pleasantly full and drowsy from the wine. We walked slowly, my arm through Ben’s, a salt-laden wind cascading in from the beach.
“Why me?” I asked, rubbing my cheek against Ben’s upper arm.
God, he was so big. Just walking beside him, feeling the brush of his muscular body against mine, the strength of his arm under my hand, I felt utterly safe and protected.
“First time I saw you was at the board meeting when the superintendent was introducing me as the new principal,” Ben said. “I was sitting by the podium, waiting for him to finish talking, when you walked in late. The door slammed shut behind you, and your heels sounded like hammers on the floor. Everyone turned to look at you, but you didn’t notice or even care. You just swept in, like you were goddamned royalty, and walked right to the front row.”
“That was enough to make you want me?” I asked.
“You didn’t know it, but you sat right in my line of vision. I watched you as you flipped your hair, checked your phone, took off your jacket, did all these little things. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You were wearing a white shirt, and I wondered what your breasts looked like naked.
Then you took a notebook and pen out of your bag and crossed your legs. That was when I knew I was in trouble.”
“Because I crossed my legs?”
“Because when you did, I had a direct view right up your tight little skirt, and I caught a glimpse of your pink panties. Between that and staring at the rest of your body, my dick was half-hard when I got up to give my speech.”
I laughed, flushed all over with pleasure at the thought of having unknowingly been the recipient of his lustful attention.
“I meant what I said, too,” he murmured, stopping in the path to curve one broad hand around the back of my head. In the darkness, his eyes gleamed. “Every PTO meeting, I’d sit there thinking about all the things I wanted to do to you.”
“Really?” I breathed. “How on earth did you get anything done?”
“Thankfully, the secretary took good notes.”
He lowered his head to kiss me, his other hand sliding down to the small of my back to pull me closer. I sank willingly against him, loving the sheer strength of his body, the way he tucked me into his arms and captured my mouth with hot possession.
Arousal curled through me. I was already warm and loose from both the wine and Ben’s presence, and his kiss both intensified my need and shed any lingering threads of guilt or shame. I was giving myself the present of this time with him, and nothing was going to stop me from diving in headfirst.
“Feel that?” With a laugh, Ben took my hand and pressed it to the front of his jeans.
My heart jumped at the sensation of his erection pushing against his fly.
“See what you do to me, Maddie?” he said. “You make me so hard, so fast.”
A faint dizziness washed over me at the thought that I could have such an effect on him. I let my hand slip away from him, and we continued walking toward the cottage.
“Have you ever done this before?” I asked, as Ben opened the front door. “With another… um, parent.”
“Never.”
Wariness flickered inside me. I turned to face him, crossing my arms over my breasts. “What about a married woman?”
Ben studied me for a moment, his features shadowed. He shook his head.
“Never. I swear.”
I wasn’t sure I had the right to be relieved at the admission, considering I was the one committing adultery, but the tension in my shoulders eased.
“You’re the only woman who’s ever had this effect on me,” he said, coming toward me. “You’ve fascinated me from the start. Not just sexually, though God knows you make me burn. You’re so sharp and commanding with the PTO, but there’s this whole other side of you. I’ve seen you with the kids at school, how warm and attentive you are. The teachers can’t say enough good things about you. I’ve read about your work with the local food pantry, the outreach program for kids, the public library, museum education. All that in one perfect, beautiful woman… Is it any wonder I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you?”
Pleasure filled me at the evidence that he knew—even better than I did—that I had so much more to offer the world than what first appearances might suggest.
“Well, you did say I was a fractal,” I remarked.
He smiled. “But it’s you I can’t stop thinking about, Maddie.”
Me.
As he started kissing me again, I dimly thought maybe that was part of the reason I’d taken this immense, wild leap too. Because of Ben Hunter, yes, but also because it was the first time I was discovering something about me.
I spread my hands over his chest, loving the sensation of his warm, hard pecs under his shirt. His lips moved with increasing pressure over mine, his tongue slipping past my lips. I could feel the coiled urgency in him, like a tight spring, all of his muscles taut as he put his hands on my hips and guided me backward into the bedroom.
My heart hammered as we lowered ourselves onto the bed, Ben coming over me, straddling my legs and bracing his hands on either side of my head. Unlike the intense, spiked heat of our encounter in his office, this was slower and somehow richer. Ben slid his lips down to my neck, his breath hot on my skin. He kissed the ridge of my collarbone and slipped his hands under my sweater.
“Christ, you feel so good,” he whispered, skimming his fingers along the waistband of my jeans. “I could bury myself inside you for days.”
Heat simmered through me. I watched as he got to his knees, still straddling my legs, and unfastened my jeans. I lifted my hips to let him pull them off, leaving me in my black satin panties. Ben trailed one finger up my inner thigh, his light, tickling touch making me squirm with increasing desperation. He edged his finger under the elastic around my thigh and eased it aside to expose my sex.
Embarrassment flared. Instinctively, I reached down to grab his wrist. “Ben—”
“Relax, Maddie,” he said, his gaze hot on my naked flesh. “I’ll go slower this time. Ah, fuck, look at how wet you are already.”
I twitched, my embarrassment intensifying as he slipped his finger over my labia and up to my pulsing clit. My hips bucked upward involuntarily, causing him to chuckle.
“That’s it,” he murmured, circling my opening with the tip of his finger. “Show me how much you want it.”
I gave a muffled groan, my skin heating as I waited for him to put his finger inside me. Instead he grasped the edges of my panties and tugged them off, tossing them to the floor. Cooler air brushed against my sex. I shifted, trying to quell my embarrassment—God knew he’d already seen me naked and shameless, so it wasn’t like this was the first time.
Still, somehow this was different. We knew each other now. We’d agreed to spend the weekend together. We’d talked, laughed, had dinner and… well. We liked each other.
He moved back on the bed and got between my legs, running his hands soothingly up and down my thighs. The light friction of his palms sent waves of heat coursing through me.
“You’re nervous,” he said.
I actually had to think about that for a second before I shook my head.
“Not nervous,” I replied. “I mean, not because of you. I just… well, all things considered, it sounds a bit silly, but I don’t have a lot of sexual experience.”
“I know.” He continued stroking my legs, his gaze on mine. “And it doesn’t matter. You’re incredible. You’re hot, sweet, beautiful, astonishingly sexy. I know your marriage is lousy, and if your husband isn’t—”
“No.” I held up my hand to stop him, my throat tightening. “I don’t want to talk about that now, Ben, please. Just… just let this be us, okay? Please.”
He nodded. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” I shifted, aching for his touch again. “I want to do everything with you, anything you want…”
Lust darkened his eyes. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
A bolt of heat shot through me. I moaned, reaching under my sweater to touch my breasts. I wiggled again. Ben brushed his finger against my spread sex, tickling my pulsing clit.
“Ben…” I groaned.
“Tell me, honey, and I might do it.”
“Really?”
A smile twitched his mouth. “Really.”
“Take off my sweater,” I said breathlessly. “And touch my breasts.”
He obeyed without hesitation, slipping my sweater over my head to reveal my breasts clad in a black satin bra. A noise of appreciation rumbled in his throat as he unhooked the clasp and tossed it on the floor.
“You’re so goddamned beautiful,” he said, his eyes glazing over as he stared at my naked breasts, my pink nipples already hard as pebbles.
His admiration filled me with confidence. I stretched my arms over my head, watching as he massaged my breasts, tweaking my nipples before lowering his head to capture one between his teeth.
I gasped. A bolt of electricity shot right to my core. He moved lower, pressing kisses in a line right down my torso, his hands skimming over the curve of my waist and hips.
He seemed to be t
ouching every part of me, endlessly, with his mouth, his hands, his entire body. He flicked his tongue into my belly button, then down, down, down…
My breath caught. Ben put his hands flat on my inner thighs, lowering his body so he was lying between my legs. A sudden hesitation rose in me as he pushed my legs apart, his breath hot against my sensitive folds. Then he stuck his tongue right into my slit.
“Ben!” I shrieked, arching upward in shock as heat flared through me. “Oh my God…”
He made a muffled noise, sliding another finger inside me. He stroked his tongue up one side of my labia, circling my swollen clit before moving back down the other side. He thrust his finger back and forth, fucking me with it as he licked and sucked my pussy.
Sparks detonated in my blood. I couldn’t believe the sensations firing through me, couldn’t believe he was doing this to me.
I tightened my grip on the comforter, unable to stop myself from thrusting toward him, wanting to grind myself against his mouth. He curled one hand around my ankle to hold me in place.
“Ben, I’m going to come,” I gasped, pushing to my elbows.
In a daze, I watched his dark blond head moving up and down between my thighs, his lips shiny with my juices and his eyes smoldering with heat. My damp, naked body vibrated with trembles, my stiff nipples sticking straight up and quivering.
Just when I thought that surely there couldn’t be more, Ben released my ankle and slid his other finger right down the cleft of my bottom.
“Oh, no…” Embarrassment spread through me, and I squirmed. “Ben…”
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured thickly. “It’ll be so good, I promise.”
I resisted when I felt the tickle of his finger against my anus, but fire shot through my nerves at his gentle touch. I whimpered, unable to prevent my muscles from relaxing as he pushed his finger slowly inside the forbidden hole.
Stars exploded behind my eyes. He had two fingers inside me—one in my pussy and the other in my anus. And when he closed his lips around my throbbing clit and sucked… I screamed.
