Preston was blessed in many departments, but when it came to his manhood, he was blessed in both length and girth. And, gosh, the way he took his time with me was new. All the previous men I’d been with, which wasn’t many, rushed. Everything was a mad dash that started with getting our clothes off and finished when he was, well, finished.
Not Preston, though. And when I was the one rushing, he’d go even slower. My mind drifted to last night and the way he took long, languid licks of my sex. It felt amazing. Almost too amazing. If I really thought about it—which, thinking then wasn’t an option—it was the best thing I’d ever experienced to date. When he started using this circular motion with his tongue, I thought I was going to pass out from pleasure.
“What has you all spacey looking?” Kaitlin asked. Her legs were stretched behind her in the pigeon pose.
I moved my body to avoid eye contact with her. “Nothing,” I said, hoping she would go about her routine of stretches and ignore me and my dirty thoughts. Daydreaming about your boyfriend at work and how good he was in bed was probably a bad idea. “Just running through my class.”
Kaitlin pulled her back leg up into the king pigeon, and I was in awe of her. Yes, we could do the same poses, but I envied the elegant way she moved her body. On the outside, she looked like a badass—dark hair, sleeve tattoo, and cutout yoga pants—but she was sweet and kind and moved her body in ways I could only dream.
“I don’t think what you were daydreaming about has anything to do with your class. You’ve been doing the same spine twist for the past ten minutes.”
I looked at the position I was sitting in, and she was right. Ten minutes had passed, and I hadn’t done anything more than twist from one side to the other. Shoot. “I’m distracted today.”
“By what?”
I hadn’t told any of my friends about Preston and me being together. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to tell the world. I just didn’t want the whole “I told you so” moment that would, no doubt, be followed by a whole barrage of questions about him and what it was like to sleep with your best friend after all these years.
I was living in a blissful bubble where it was just me and Preston. No one could touch us right now, especially if I didn’t share my secrets. “Nothing.” She raises her eyebrow at me. “Really. I don’t think I’m getting enough sleep.”
“Because of all the sex you’re having at night?” Kaitlin said casually.
“What? I’m not. No.” I stumbled over my words while I fumbled into the bridge pose.
Not Kaitlin. She was posed in upward bow and talking about sex like it was an everyday conversation between us. It wasn’t. Mainly because sex hadn’t been a part of my life for so long. “You’re doing it again. And don’t try to lie, Tenley. You’re terrible at it. Besides, you get all blushy when I say the word sex.”
“I do not.” I felt my face flush.
“There you go again.”
I picked up the foam block next to me and tossed it at her. She didn’t waver one bit when it hit the one leg she was now standing on. “Sex, sex, sex,” she mocked right when my class walked in. The senior bus dropped all ten of my students off at the same time. They were here for our silver yoga class. Chair yoga, to be exact. They were a feisty bunch with perfect hearing.
“Who’s having sex?” Mrs. Mancini asked, who also happened to be Preston’s and my neighbor.
“No one,” I said the same time Kaitlin said, “Tenley is.”
“I have been noticing that nice boy, Preston, leaving your apartment every morning.”
“Oh, my God,” Kaitlin shouted.
Luckily, I was saved by my alarm. Class was starting. I shooed her out, stood to turn it off, and was greeted by a text from Preston at the same time. My heart skipped when I read it.
This bed is lonely without you.
My class was scheduled for eight in the morning. It was also my turn to open the studio, which meant I had to be in at six in the morning. I had left a sleepy Preston alone in his bed to run home for a quick shower before work. I hated leaving it this morning. I texted back, then tucked my phone into my bag by the front mirror.
“All right, class, pick your chair and let's begin stretching.” I was interrupted before we started.
Kaitlin stuck her head in the studio room door. “You have a delivery.”
“Can’t you sign for me?” I reminded her, “I’m teaching a class.”
“Not this time. You don’t mind if I steal Tenley for a moment, do you, ladies?”
A collaborative no filled the room. I quickly made my way to the reception area where I was greeted with not one but three bouquets. One was filled with flowers, one with donuts, and the last was another panty bouquet. I blushed while I signed the courier's clipboard, then read the cards on each.
Since we didn’t get to have breakfast together.
Something to brighten your day.
Something for me, later.
Kaitlin was staring at me.
“Don’t say a word.”
She pretended to zip her lips, but she couldn’t help herself. “That is the sweetest thing ever. I miss having a boyfriend.”
She grabbed a donut from the box I opened and stuffed it in her mouth. I did the same. No one in their right mind could resist a fresh donut. I left the flowers on the desk, then took my other box of goodies with me. No way would I leave my panties for the world to see.
“All right, ladies. Let’s get started.” During the class, I worked off the calories I consumed. Or at least that was what I told myself.
Throughout the day, Preston sent me random texts. Nothing profound, he just told me about his day. How he hoped I was having a good day. Or about a trailer he saw for a new movie coming out. He also had lunch delivered to me. Apparently, he thought I was going to starve. My hips said otherwise.
But it was a sweet and romantic gesture. Also something no one had ever done for me before.
To say he got lucky was an understatement. I rocked his world. Or maybe he rocked mine.
I decided to return the favor the next day. My schedule was light since I was on front desk duty. Preston said he had to write a proposal for some lipstick company, so he’d be working late into the night. I knew he wouldn’t leave his desk until he was finished.
I left him a thermos of coffee by his computer to get him going. Later, I had an Uber driver deliver him a sandwich from Butter My Bread, and he sent me a picture of him devouring it. Later in the afternoon, I texted him to look in his pantry. I had left him a container of cookies I made the night before. Underneath those was my own version of a panty bouquet.
I bought Preston some new boxer briefs featuring his favorite superheroes. I didn’t have the skills to make them into flowers, but I did put them in a gift bag with neatly arranged tissue paper inside.
That night, I was greeted by Preston dressed in only his Hulk briefs and nothing else. I couldn’t help myself when I literally jumped his bones. Good thing he was quick. Preston caught me and carried me straight to bed. When I asked if he was finished with his proposal, he said it could wait because he had more important business to attend to.
To say I was a lucky girl was an understatement. I was the luckiest girl.
Later that night, after he had left me weak in the knees, he asked me again about my birthday.
“What do you want for your birthday?”
The dreamy side of me was going to say I had everything I ever wanted. Being with him like this was worth more than any gift, and he’d only been my boyfriend for a week.
“Nothing,” my rational side told him.
“There has to be something. I can’t take you for your regular birthday gift.”
Normally, we celebrated with a night out with our friends at our favorite bar where the alcohol flowed freely. I questioned, “Why not?”
“We are going to be at your parents' house?”
“They won’t mind.”
“They saw me drunk once. I think it wa
s enough for them.”
One time, Preston and I thought we’d be cool and sneak some alcohol when my parents were having a party. Let’s just say, Sambuca didn’t work out too well for us. First, it tasted horrible. Second, it was strong. Third, it ended with us sick in the bathroom. We swore off the licorice-flavored drink for the rest of our lives.
“I want to go out. We don’t have to get plastered, but we could still find somewhere with bad karaoke or a dive with an awesome cover band where I can get just tipsy enough to make out with you in public. Because I can get pretty handsy when I have a drink or two.”
His chest moved as he laughed. “How can I say no to that offer? If that’s really what you want, then we’ll go.”
I did. Because when we were in my parents' house, we’d have to be on our best behavior. And I didn’t know if I could be with Preston close by.
20
Preston
Make a good impression with the parents.
“IT’S ABOUT TIME,” Tenley’s mom cheered from the doorway before taking her daughter into the biggest hug. She wasn’t talking about our arrival either. It was because she saw me holding Tenley’s hand when she opened the front door.
Years ago, I started calling Trisha mom. In fact, she insisted on it. Jim, her father, was always Mr. Ray. They were my second family, so the idea of them hating Tenley and me dating hadn’t crossed my mind until a split second before the door opened. What if they were fine with us being friends, but not with me dating their daughter?
The moment ended when her mom hugged me after Tenley, and she said, “I knew you two would figure it out sooner or later. Right, Jim? Didn’t I say they would end up together?”
Jim agreed with his wife. “Yes, Trisha.”
She was talking animatedly with her hands. “I want all the details. How and when did it happen?”
Practically dragging Tenley, she led us into the living room. Mr. Ray gave me a congratulatory slap on the shoulder as I walked by. I took it as a sign that he was okay with us dating too.
“Mom, give us a second to get settled and our bags upstairs,” Tenley begged.
“Will you be sharing a room?” Her mom slightly wiggled her eyebrows when she asked us.
“No.” Tenley was quick to respond.
During the drive, we had discussed our sleeping arrangements, and I agreed out of respect for her family, which I had a lot of, we’d one, sleep in separate rooms, and two, abstain for the weekend. Piece of cake.
She didn’t wait for her parents to say anything else. Tenley was halfway up the stairs by the time I picked up the bags I had placed by the front door.
Once I made it to the top, I stopped at the guest room that was deemed Preston’s room, by me, a long time ago. I remembered the first night I slept over. This wasn’t the house Tenley grew up in. Her parents moved when Tenley was in college. A retired Mr. Ray decided to take up golf, so they moved to a much quieter adult golfing community north of Naples located halfway between their daughter and their son, who was still attending the University of Florida. Most people downgraded when they retired but not the Rays. Their house could fit more children than they had.
The extra bedroom was decorated by none other than me. Needing an extra set of hands, I helped Mr. Ray lug every piece of furniture into their respective rooms. And when Trisha, aka Mom, couldn’t decide what colors to decorate the guest room, I lent a hand. The gray and white quilt with teal throw pillows were a gift from me. She loved it so much, she painted the room to match. Gray, not teal. She even kept Tenley’s and my college graduation picture, the one where we did the sign of the devil with our tongues hanging out, on the dresser. It was the obligatory college photo everyone took to say we did it, and we kicked ass while doing it.
I picked up the picture after setting my bag on the bed. It was a great day. Our families took us out to eat, then left us college kids to party hard. I smiled. Good times.
I made my way to Tenley’s room across the hall. She was digging through the bathroom closet. The towel she pulled out was getting abused when she harshly threw it on the sink counter.
I stood in the doorway watching as she did the same to the hand towel and washcloth. With my knuckles, I knocked on the doorjamb. “I put your suitcase on the bed.”
“Thanks,” she murmured coldly.
“What’s going on, Tenley?”
She was obviously upset.
“Nothing.”
I wasn’t about to accept her answer. Something triggered her mood, and I didn’t think it was the towel’s fault. I picked her up and deposited her on the counter beside the heap of cotton, then positioned myself between her legs. “Talk to me.”
She sighed. “It’s just weird.”
“What is?” I know I shouldn’t have thought she looked cute when she was ticked off, but she did with her red-tinted face, pouty lip, and tight muscles. I wanted to kiss her until she relaxed and her face was flushed for a different reason. Until she answered me.
“My parents assuming we were going to be sleeping together. The way Mom wanted details. Us being here. It’s just weird. Don’t you think it’s weird?”
I internally flinched. I needed clarification on what Tenley was saying. Did she hate the idea of us or the idea of her parents knowing we were together? Neither of which I wanted her to say yes to.
“Did you not want them to know?”
“Yes. I mean, no,” she stuttered. “I guess I’m a little freaked out.”
My chest tightened. “About?”
“Them knowing or at least thinking I’m having sex. I don’t want them picturing that. It’s almost as bad as me picturing them.” She shivered in revolt.
The tightness in my chest released. In all our teenage years together, they never questioned us or made us keep the bedroom door open. They trusted us to behave ourselves. Besides, back then, having sex together was not on my mind at all.
Even though we were now, I still respected her family. And I hoped they knew I respected their daughter too. I could keep it in my pants, so to speak, whenever we visited for both my girlfriend's and their sanity. “I don’t think your mom wanted the details of our sex life, Tenley.”
“You don’t?” Her cheeks faded to pink.
I shook my head.
“Oh.”
“Though, I’m sure our descriptions would be hot.”
She smiled. “Shut up.”
“Epic even.”
This time, she hit my chest. “We are not telling my parents about our bedroom antics.”
“Antics? Is that what kids are calling it these days?” Respectfully, I dragged her ass across the counter until she was flush against me.
With my thumb, I tilted her head to the side, then nibbled on the hollow of her neck.
“Preston,” she breathed while I kissed my way up to her ear. “Stop.” Even though she said the words, her body betrayed her. And so did mine when she tilted her head back farther and locked her ankles behind me.
Then my respect flew out the door, and everything progressed quickly. When it came to Tenley, the self-control I said I would have this weekend was lost. In no time flat, we were making out like two teenagers whose hormones were raging. My hands were fondling her tits through her T-shirt. Her hands were dipped under the back of my jeans, digging into my skin. She was moving against me as I was grinding into her. I was this close to pulling her shirt off when the bucket of ice water was figuratively dumped over our heads.
From downstairs, her mom yelled, “Dinner in an hour, kids.”
I froze. Tenley, on the other hand, hid her face in my neck as she broke out in hysterics. “I’m just getting dressed.” She covered for us.
I snuck back to my room and took a cold shower. Two nights. I can behave myself for two nights.
I made it through a family dinner at her father’s country club. And the next morning, I woke up early after being invited to join her father on the golf course while the women went on their annual birthday shoppi
ng spree.
I stopped by Tenley’s room, keeping myself at a respectable distance, to give her the first of her birthday presents. It was quirky, but I think I nailed it.
“Happy Birthday,” I greeted her. She unwrapped the mug that stated “my boyfriend is my best friend.” What she didn’t know was the match was already sitting next to her coffeepot back home.
She thanked me as she held the mug pressed to her chest as if it was the best gift ever. After breakfast, we went our separate ways.
Mr. Ray and I bonded over golf, then he treated me to a manly lunch of fish tacos on the deck of the clubhouse. We didn’t discuss his daughter or my intentions with her. It might have been thanks to Tenley, who asked him to go easy on me today. He did, in that respect, but I was licking my wounds at my loss in the round of golf we played.
We were back at the house when the girls came home, hands full of bags, from a day at the outlet mall. I saw two striped pink bags that piqued my interest.
At dinner, I gave Tenley her second gift. A pair of big hoop earrings in her birthstone. I took it that she liked them when she paired them with the sexy little black dress she wore for our night out. It was short, it hugged her body, and the neckline cut low to her cleavage.
Jesus.
She made it impossibly hard to be good. Luckily, at the bar, I didn’t have to. I was free, somewhat, to touch Tenley. We had a drink. We danced, the kind where she pressed her ass to the front of my jeans as she wiggled her hips. We made out on the dance floor. Then repeated the process until we were buzzed. After three drinks, I cut us off, and we switched to water.
Just before midnight, we ordered an Uber to take us back home. Tenley’s mom stayed up, waiting for us. She handed us both a bottle of water and some Advil. “Take these.” Ever the nurse, because that was what she did for twenty years, she waited until we swallowed them down before going to bed.
When we headed upstairs, I walked Tenley to her room to say good night.
“Happy Birthday, baby.” I gave her a chaste kiss even though I wanted to do so much more. The dancing had left me half hard, but I could wait until we were back home.
All the Right Moves Page 13
