Slipping farther into the warm saltwater pool, I waded over to Ford. He captured me in his arms, and my legs wrapped around his middle. We went back to kissing and he moved us toward the steps.
His hand squeezed my butt, and he murmured, “Love this ass,” before hoisting me onto the top step. “Lie back,” he commanded before sinking on his knees in front of me.
He didn’t waste any time, using his tongue to swipe through my core, landing on my spot—the one I’d only shared with less than a handful of lovers. With his hands firmly on my hips, he held me still and assaulted me in all the best ways. He increased pressure and then pulled back when I was close.
“Ford,” I whined, and I didn’t even care that I sounded like a wanton college girl.
He brought the pressure back, his tongue doing the most luscious things to me until I came apart. I tried to moan quietly, but the climax hit so hard I was pretty sure the whole neighborhood knew what we were doing.
He lifted out of the water and moved up my body, hovering over the steps to kiss me, making sure I tasted myself on his tongue like he had so many times. I was beginning to have to have it. I couldn’t dwell on it because Ford was gathering me back into his arms and drifting into the water. I lowered my hand and wrapped it around his hard length. With my grip applying the amount of pressure he craved, I worked him in between our bodies, moving my hand swiftly up and down. His head fell back and I could see the corded veins in his neck, his wet hair messy and dripping. He was like a magazine shoot right in front of me.
Whipping his head up, he shoved my fingers off him and demanded, “Put your legs back around me.” It wasn’t a suggestion, and I did as I was told.
With my back near the side of the pool, his hand braced on the ledge for support and protection, he guided his length into me. Salt water lapping against me, the night sky above me, and Ford inside me—I was overtaken with sensations. We’d forgone condoms for good, and I had no regrets.
“Feel. So. Fucking. Good.” Ford spoke in between thrusts. He went back to kissing me with an urgency as he picked up the pace, his hand held firmly behind my back keeping me from scraping my skin. Something about feeling this man so deep inside me, I knew I’d never be the same.
Later, lying in bed, my cheek on Ford’s chest, his arm underneath me holding me close, I felt some sort of way I couldn’t define.
“What is pummeling through that brain of yours?”
Sitting up, I asked, “How do you do that? It’s like some secret voodoo…”
“No voodoo. I can feel your body vibrating with thoughts. Literally.” He tickled my back and I scrambled to move from his hand. “Now, what’s happening in that mess of a brain of yours?”
I tried to put into words how I was feeling, but felt unprepared to do so— “I’m old.”
“Again with this? That’s what you’re lying there thinking, after I just fucked you senseless? I can confirm you’re not old.”
Burying my face back in his chest, I mumbled, “Not old like that.”
“Hey, look at me.” I felt Ford’s index finger poke under my chin and lift my gaze. “Old like what? May I remind you we’re the same age.”
“Well, that’s the thing. Men can have a family long past women, and I’m thinking you might want to do that with someone someday soon, and I don’t want to keep you from doing that.”
“Someone…like you… Yeah, I think I might. If it’s in the cards.”
“That’s what I mean. I don’t think that’s in my cards. I’m past the prime time, and I want you to be able to have all that.”
I hadn’t intended to turn this into a sappy moment, but a lone tear fell from my eye.
With his thumb, Ford smudged it off my cheek. “Red,” he said while sliding me to my back and climbing on top of me. We were skin to skin, hardness to softness—not how I pictured having this conversation.
“I’m trying to be pragmatic…”
“I did that once and walked away from you, trying to experience life, do what everyone expected of me. And all it got me was two lost decades without you. Love isn’t pragmatic, it isn’t sensible or planned or perfect. It’s not a photo op or a merger or an acquisition. That’s why my mom doesn’t get this. Getus. Love is real and messy and fun and sometimes not fun. If you’re asking me if I want a family, I may or I may not. I want a life with someone like you, to use your word. Someone who is you. If our family is just you and me, that’s fine.”
I felt my head shaking. “No, that’s taking something away from you. Your mom—”
“Let’s not talk about her when we are like this. Naked, horny, touching.”
“We’re talking seriously, and you mentioned her,” I objected.
“I am serious. Yes, sorry I did, but I don’t want to discuss her anymore. I want you and me together… Maybe we can adopt…or there are a ton of options.”
My eyes closed. “This is so dumb. It’s not even like we live in the same city, let alone have a commitment. And here I am, bringing up babies.” If I was younger, I’d probably wish to disappear, but I was wise enough to admit when I’d gone and stuck my foot in my mouth.
Ford ground his length into me. “Oh, we have a commitment. If I haven’t made that clear, you’re mine. And more important, I’m yours. Also, I want you to move here. I asked earlier, and like I promised, I’m going to keep asking. I know you’ve had a lot of transitions lately, and I don’t want to put more pressure on you, but I want you with me.”
