“I have to give you credit,” she told him. “You really may have reached expert status in only six years.”
“Oh, just wait. You ain’t seen nothing, yet.”
“Oh, my.”
“Yup,” he replied, giving his fingertip another lick. “That was just a warm up. I had to get that one out of my system so I could control myself a little the next time. As you could probably tell, I got a little carried away.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
He laughed, his body bouncing on her stomach. “It was your nipples. I couldn’t help it. When I saw them sticking out of your shirt, I couldn’t take it anymore.” He lifted his head, planting a gentle kiss on the nipple he’d been stroking. “These beautiful little nipples right here.” He kissed it again, this time with a little caress from his tongue.
She closed her eyes with the sensation. “I’ve never been so happy about a drafty window in my whole life.”
“You and me both.”
He rested his head back on her chest as she stroked his hair. She hadn't been with a man with long hair before, and it turned out she liked it. She gently swept it aside, off of his back, softly dragging her fingernails across his skin. He let out a little groan.
She lay silently for a while, drinking in the feeling of satisfaction. The thought of Jim was just outside the surface, but she didn’t let it in. She knew she’d feel awful about this later, but for now, she allowed herself to enjoy all the magic of the moment. She hadn’t experienced anything like this in so long.
She needed it.
She could feel Dylan begin to grow against her leg. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked with a smile.
“It sure is. Dinner’s almost ready.” He raised his head, flipping his hair over to the side with one abrupt motion.
That move was hotter than Melissa cared to admit.
He inched his way up to her face, looking her in the eye. “Are you ready?” he asked softly. “Because you’re about to get it.”
She could reply only with a shaky exhale at first. Then, with a smile, she said, “Oh, I’m ready. The question is…are you ready?”
“I’ve been ready. I’ve been ready since I first saw you.” He placed his lips on hers as he gently slid inside of her. He let out a soft moan as he went in, kissing her a little more intently. "Oh," he whispered with his lips against hers, "you're definitely gonna get it."
They moved slowly together, in sync, as if they were one. Overcome, she reached her hand down between her legs, stroking herself as they moved, causing the intensity of the sensation to multiply. She made sounds she couldn’t control as every part of her got pleasured.
“That’s right,” he whispered between kisses, only adding to her passion. “You rub yourself.”
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She gripped onto his hair with her free hand, feeling the desire within her rise with each pulse. She was becoming frenzied inside, although their bodies remained slow and deliberate. “Oh, God,” she said as she felt the intensity build up inside of her. “Here it comes.”
He kept the same unhurried pace as the orgasm slowly washed over her body in a gentle wave. He stopped pulsing when she finished, giving her time to recover. Lifting his head and smiling at her, he announced, “That’s one.”
She puffed out some air and brushed her hair out of her face. “That’s two, actually, if you count the first one.” She pointed out toward the living room, where his tongue had done that to her before.
He shrugged one shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll lose track before we’re done anyway.”
His words would have sounded obnoxious if she wasn’t so convinced they were true.
He stared moving again, this time a little more forcefully than before. She pulled her legs up and wrapped them around his body. He threaded his arms between himself and her legs, eventually landing her ankles on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and kissed the inside of her shin as he thrust deeply inside of her; the look on his gorgeous face was enough to put her on the edge again.
After that orgasm and several more from Melissa, Dylan finally succumbed to one giant climax of his own. She watched his beautiful face as he came; that was an image she wouldn’t soon forget. He collapsed on the bed beside her, clearly drained, flat on his back with his arms spread out to the side.
Within a minute, he was snoring.
Melissa giggled to herself, pleased that he was so relaxed. She knew he didn’t have to work in the morning, so she pulled the covers over his body, kissed his forehead and tiptoed out of the room. She grabbed her clothes from the living room and cleaned up in the bathroom before gathering her dishes and heading out the door.
At home, things were different. With the euphoria of the experience behind her, the reality of the situation set in. She had missed a call from Jim while she was having sex with Dylan, which only made her feel worse about a situation that already had her feeling awful.
She went upstairs and turned on the shower water, standing naked with her hand in the stream, waiting for it to get warm. Her emotions were ridiculously conflicted. On one hand, she was giddy and satisfied; on the other, she was riddled with guilt. The water became hot, so she stepped in and let it hit her face, hoping it could wash away the icky feeling that sat like a knot inside of her.
As she washed her body, the fresh memories of Dylan’s touch consumed her mind. She looked down at her breasts—those same breasts that had made Dylan lose control—and she couldn’t help but smile. “Good job,” she said to them before she leaned her head back and let the water hit her hair. “You girls did your thing.”
She emerged from the shower feeling clean and exhausted. She decided to put her guilt on the back burner for the evening; nothing was going to change if she beat herself up over it, so she decided to just enjoy the moment. In her pajamas and almost ready for bed, she went downstairs and got herself a glass of water. Walking by the calendar, she grabbed her red marker and mechanically put another X through the day.
At least this day had been productive.
Melissa woke up and stretched, wondering what time it was. She was sore in more than one way, but it was a good sore. She hadn’t had a workout like that in ages.
Reaching over to the nightstand, she checked her phone. She was pleased to see a text from Dylan. Rubbing her eyes to focus better, she read, Good morning. Would you be able to come over later and give me a ride at some point today?
She smiled and bit her lip, unsure exactly what he meant by that. Either way, she would have been fine with it. Sure, she texted back. What time?
After waiting a while for a return text that never came, she called up her husband’s name and typed a message. I know you are busy, but I need you to come home soon and replace Dylan’s window.
This time, the response was immediate. Already?
Yup, she replied with a smile, it became an issue pretty quickly.
“Actually,” she said out loud to no one, “it became an issue twice.”
Her phone chirped again, but this time it was Dylan. Any time that works for you is fine.
It both amazed and frightened her how much more excited she felt when the texts came from Dylan. Let me make some food, and then I’ll be over.
Chapter 10
Melissa knocked by kicking Dylan’s door with her foot, carrying a crock pot of beef stew in both hands. He opened the door, quickly saying, “Sorry. I didn’t know your hands were full.”
“It’s okay,” she told him, walking in. She brought the pot over to the counter and plugged it in, setting it to warm. “I just didn’t have any hands to knock with.”
“That smells amazing.”
She smiled. “Well, I figured it’s a good cold-weather meal. Plus, it’s not dinner time yet, but you can just keep it plugged in until you’re ready. With stew, the longer it sits, the better it is.”
“Awesome. Thanks.”
Their eyes met for the first time since she’d arrived. They looked at each other know
ingly, both aware of their mutual secret. Melissa turned away first, focusing on removing her coat. “Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Like a baby. Hey, I wanted to apologize for that, but I didn’t want to put that in a text…you know, just in case your husband might see it.”
“I understand, but there’s no need to worry about that yet. He’s still in England. But what are you apologizing for? Falling asleep?”
“Yeah. I didn’t say goodnight or anything. I just passed out.” He let out a laugh. “That was pretty rude.”
“I’m not worried about it. You were tired, that’s all. You’d had quite a workout.” She grinned at him mischievously.
“You’re right about that.”
“I slept pretty well myself, once I got home.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She rested her hand on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “So, you need a ride somewhere?”
“Eventually. I need a few things from the drug store.”
“That can be arranged.”
“I’m not in a hurry, though,” he replied. “We don’t have to go right away, unless you want to.”
“Whatever,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “You know I don’t have other plans.”
“I certainly don’t either. Hey…” he walked over and tapped her on the arm, “do you want to play some video games?”
“Video games?” she asked with surprise. That was not a question that most thirty-eight year old women heard. “I don’t know a thing about video games.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“Are these, like, shooting games with people dying violently and blood spurting everywhere?” They headed toward the living room.
“I have games like that, if you’re suggesting that’s what you want.”
She laughed. “That’s the opposite of what I was suggesting.”
“I figured. I was thinking more along the lines of a racing game. You don’t have anything against driving, do you?”
“Driving I can handle.” She took a seat on the couch.
Dylan went over to the television and pulled two controllers from the cabinet underneath. Melissa looked at the corner of the stand—where she had put her foot just the night before—and felt herself get excited. She cleared her throat and pretended she didn’t have that memory.
“Here,” Dylan said, handing her a controller. He sat close to her, leaning in, pointing to the different buttons. He rattled off what each one would do, and Melissa felt completely overwhelmed.
“I don’t think I’ll be very good at this,” she announced.
“You’ll pick it up,” he assured her, patting her leg. “It’ll just take a few rounds.”
She made a face that reflected her fear. “I’m not so sure.”
“It’ll be fun,” he assured her.
“Okay,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I’ll take your word for it.”
The television turned into a split-screen race track. Dylan gestured with his hand. “You’re on the right; I’m on the left.” He pushed a button, causing his car to make a sound. “See that? I’m revving my engine. You like that, right? It’s manly.”
“I can hardly control myself.”
“Okay, so see that timer in the corner? When it hits zero, we go.”
“How do I go again?”
The clock hit zero, and neither one of them moved. Melissa just looked helplessly at her controller, and Dylan leaned over to help her. Putting his hands around hers, he guided her thumb to a button. “See?” he said, frighteningly close to her. “Like that.”
She wasn’t all that impressed with the game, but she certainly enjoyed the feel of his hands on hers.
“Oh,” she said with surprise. “I’m moving.”
“Yup,” he replied, returning to his controller and making his car start.
“I’m beating you. I need to say that now while I can…oh, wait…I think you just passed me.”
He laughed. “I sure did. Okay, turn your car. Turn. Turn…”
“Turn? How do I turn?” She watched her car hit a wall.
Leaning over again, he guided her hand in the correct motion. “Like this. And if you need to turn right, you just do it like that.” He moved her hand in the opposite direction.
“Wait—I’m moving again. I didn’t die?”
“No, you can crash a thousand times. Watch,” he said, plowing his car into a wall.
“Ooh…now it’s time for me to catch you.” She moved her car slowly forward.
“You’re going to have to go faster than that if you want to catch me.”
“I can’t go any faster and still control it.”
He laughed. “You’re cute, do you know that?”
“Cute,” she replied sarcastically. “That’s fabulous.” Her car hit a wall again. “I told you I wasn't going to be very good at this.”
“I think we ought to make it interesting,” Dylan suggested.
She glanced at him sideways with one eyebrow raised. “What do you mean ‘interesting?’”
“I mean we should put some stakes on it.”
“You’re going to beat me every time.”
“No, I don’t mean racing each other. I mean trying to finish the track in a certain amount time. I’ll give you a lot longer to work with.”
“I’ll need, like, an hour.”
“We can complete a few rounds and figure out a time that would be good…for both of us,” he suggested.
“Okay, so what happens if we don’t finish in time?”
“Well, I was thinking we could play a little modified version of Truth or Dare. I’ll call it ‘Truth, Dare or Act.’”
“Truth, Dare or Act,” she repeated.
“Uh-huh.”
“I wonder what acts you have in mind.”
He shrugged with an innocent expression on his face. “It could be anything.”
She found him so adorable it was hard for her to resist jumping to the ‘act’ portion of the game immediately. “Okay, whatever,” she said. “Let’s do some time trials, shall we?”
After establishing reasonable goals, they started their first match. Each of them beat their time, so Melissa turned to him and asked, “Now what?”
“Okay, now we each get to choose a truth, dare or act. I want you to do an act.”
“I’m so surprised by that. Hey…wait. That’s not how this game works. The person who has to do it is the one who gets to choose whether it’s a truth, dare or act.”
“I’ve tweaked the rules, remember?”
“I think I’ve been hustled.”
He laughed. “Are you ready to hear the act I want you to do?”
“Oh, Lord.”
“I want you to show me those nipples again. Just for, like, the count of ten. I’ve been thinking about them constantly since last night, and I really want to see them one more time.”
She couldn’t help but smile. Although she acted like she was deliberating whether she would allow it, she knew she ultimately would.
If she was going to be honest with herself, she wanted to end up in his bed again.
“Okay,” she eventually replied. “Fair is fair.” She stood up to make her stomach look flatter as she lifted her shirt and bra in one motion.
“One,” Dylan said as he looked intently at her breasts. His eyes traveled back and forth, and his expression grew frightfully serious. “Two.”
The look on his face was enough to make her crazy.
“Three.” His count was slow. “Four.”
Melissa enjoyed watching him as the count worked its way to nine. Then Dylan said, “Nine and a half…”
She let out a laugh.
“Nine and three quarters.”
“Dylan,” she whined.
“Ten.”
She put her bra and shirt back into place and sat down.
“Man, that got the blood flowing,” Dylan confessed, squiggling in his seat. “I have to adjust.”
Meliss
a was glad she could still have that effect on a man. After all those years with Jim, she had been wondering if that was even remotely true anymore. “Okay,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s my turn.”
He replied only with a smile.
“I choose truth.”
“Alright. Shoot.”
Her eyes reflected sympathy as she quietly asked, “When was the last time you saw your mom?”
Chapter 11
“Wow,” he said jokingly. “Talk about an erection killer. Um…let me see. Do you mean the last time I saw her or the last time I communicated with her?”
“Both.”
“Okay. Well, I don’t know if I can give you a date, because I didn’t know that was going to be the last time I saw her, but it was right before I got sentenced to my final stay in juvie. I was seventeen, and I had done something wrong…What was it?” He smiled. “I've screwed up so many times it’s hard to remember which time was which. I think that final time was a drug possession charge. Either that, or a theft.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, really. I got sentenced to stay in juvie until my eighteenth birthday. By then, my mom was done with me. Keep in mind, I was a minor, so every time I ended up in court, she ended up in court. She would get so angry that she’d have to take time off of work to go to court with me again.”
“That was her concern?” Melissa asked. “Missing work?”
“By then, yes. I think she’d gotten used to the idea that I wasn’t going to amount to much. She’d given up on me ever becoming…normal, I guess. But it bothered her that every time I screwed up, it affected her. I think she couldn’t wait until I turned eighteen so I wouldn’t be her problem anymore.”
“That’s really sad, actually.”
“It is what it is.”
“So, was your eighteenth birthday the last time you ever saw her?”
“No. The day I got sentenced was the last time I spoke to her. When I got out on my eighteenth birthday, she wasn’t there to pick me up. I called a friend to come get me and bring me home. When I got there, all my stuff was out on the front steps waiting for me. She had apparently changed the locks so I couldn’t get in.”
What She Needed Page 6
