Claire
God, earlier tonight, he’d nodded, and I was on him. I’d let go of his hand and crawled over him, front-to-front, my mouth seeking his, like his was the only air I ever needed.
Something came over me.
I craved him like Smitty craved a piece of steak.
It didn’t matter that I was a grown woman who’d lost a child. With Aiken, I was a woman. A desirable (yet vulnerable) woman with wants and desires…needs I’d never needed before.
It was refreshing and scary as shit at the same time.
Even more shocking, I liked this version of me.
Our tongues had entwined, and my body had ached to rub against his.
I hadn’t grinded up on anyone since I was sixteen in my friend’s basement.
I was too old to act like that. Right?
Yet, I’d wanted nothing more than to create friction where it counted.
“This okay?” he’d asked, kind and gruff at the same time, his voice hoarse with want.
“Yes,” I’d breathed.
Now, as I wrestled with the covers, Smitty pacing the hardwoods—anxious from my own nerves—I wished I’d stayed, we’d done more, gone inside…that he’d had his way with me.
I was wanton and breathless over my neighbor.
My younger neighbor.
I had to get over that. In three years—longer than that—no one had made me breathless, let alone hungry with desire.
“One more mile?” We circled town, Aiken more than likely slowing his pace. As for me, I was dragging my ass faster than usual.
“Sure.” No way I’d ever own up to tossing and turning half the night.
All night.
“There’s a big coffee with lots of sugary vanilla in it at the end for you. How’s that?”
“Now you’re speaking my lingo, kid.”
“Pick it up, Richards.”
A quick pat on the butt had me looking every which way…
“I’m not a student, and I want to touch a lot more of you. I see you looking around. No one’s even paying attention to us.”
As if I were a coed, my cheeks flamed. I couldn’t look at him. His words had been so simple, yet so suggestive.
“Look at you…are you out of shape? Or embarrassed?”
My tank was soaked through, bra too, my thighs sticky, and salty sweat dripped into my eyes, but I pushed forward. “I’m not out of shape. It’s been a long time…a while since someone tapped my butt, let alone in public,” came through huffs and breaths.
“You mean, smacked your ass? I’m not a toddler, neither are you. You don’t need to say butt.”
“Yes, my ass.” I turned my gaze the opposite direction of him.
