“Even if you know the correct day, I’m never going to let you live down the day-of-the-week skivvies.”
“Hey, they landed me a sexy-as-fuck golfer.”
I was impressed how in-stride Wren was taking the whole situation.
I crawled my way up her side and our mouths met, our tongues not waiting to get in on the action. I pulled Wren onto her side, her front meeting my front, and she hooked her leg over my hip.
Grinding into one another, my boxer briefs doing little to contain my excitement, kissing and not letting up, I felt heady. Like a teenage boy, not a grown man.
“Want to take my time with you,” I whispered into Wren’s ear before sliding down her body, nipping at her nipple, running my tongue over her abs, making sure she was comfortable on her back before tugging her underwear to the side and feasting on Birdie.
Call me a caveman, but I couldn’t bring myself to remove the panties that said this was all for me.
As Wren came apart underneath my chin, I didn’t let up, watching every ripple make its way through her, savoring the view. It was only when she’d been wrung out of every sensationthat I threw taking our time to the wind, moving quickly up her body. Wren seemed to get the fever running off me as she kicked off the underwear. With her bra shoved out of the way, exposing her breasts, she invited me to have a taste. I did while wiggling and shrugging out of my briefs.
Sliding inside Wren, slowly, not wanting to miss a single moment or feeling, I let my palm graze her cheek. I caught her eyes and spoke only for our ears despite no one else being in the room. “I’m glad…we did this…reconnected.”
I watched her swallow and blink before she said, “Me too.”
I moved a little bit, dragging in and out of her as her hips rose. “Makes me sad that we missed a few decades of this.”
“I know,” was her response.
“We’ll make up for it…” I started to pick up speed, and Wren’s arching of her back let me know she was open to it until she stilled.
With her hand on my face, she looked at me and said, totally deadpan, “After you make your movie and you’re not only the sexiest golfer but actor too.”
With a comment like that there was no way to explain other than to show her how she made me feel like a king.
Wren
“He really is dreamy,” Genie said, curling her legs under her and snatching a bowl of snacks off the coffee table.
“He’s super nice, surprisingly…approachable, warm. He’s a good guy.” I heard myself singing Ryan’s charms.
Chomping on a mouth full of buttery popcorn, Genie held a finger in the air, signaling me to wait. I took advantage of the moment and took a sip of my coffee.
It was a cold and dreary Sunday afternoon, and Genie had invited herself over for a Ryan Strauss movie marathon—her choice on the movies. She’d come up with the idea the day before when I’d been on call and had to rush in for an emergency consult with a professional basketball player.
“At least it’s not another grandma trying to fix you up…since you’re in love,” Genie said when we’d finished for the day.
“I don’t know about love. Maybe like.”
“How is lover boy?” she’d asked with a wink.
“Filming all weekend. But it looks like I will head out to visit next weekend…Ryan is having some sort of party and invited me.”
That was the moment she clapped her hands and stated, “We have to do a marathon of his movies! Tomorrow. I’ll come over and bring the snacks.”
Now, Genie was clearing her throat and saying, “That man is amazing and hot… I mean, I saw his doppelganger on Friday and I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind.”
Pressing pause on the movie about two people falling in love under the worst circumstances, I asked, “What are you going on about?”
“On Friday, when I took a half day to see my gyno? Remember?”
“I’m not senile, Genie—”
“Right, right. Well, anyway, I stopped home to freshen up before I went out to dinner, and this mail guy was walking down the street. If it wasn’t for the uniform, I would’ve thought he was Ryan. A young Ryan. No joke, dude was smoking hot.”
