Shay took his arm and angled it toward the light. The scrape was still raw, but he’d cleaned it well and although it looked angry, it didn’t look infected. He leaned back, in order to set down his own glass beyond the edge of the mattress, and all of his many, many muscles shifted and flexed as he did a halfway, diagonal equivalent of a sit-up, pulling her attention away from his elbow.
When he sat back up, his face was right there, so she took it between her hands, and kissed him.
It was a kiss of the same variety as the one he’d first given to her—sweet, practically chaste. She’d liked it—not just the sensation of only their lips touching, but the very idea of it. It held a subtext—no, actually it held a message that was unmistakable in its inherent respect.I’d like to kiss you, and I think you’d like to kiss me, too,it said.But if I’m wrong about that, please let me know, and I’ll back it down a notch.
And sure enough, as Shayla pulled back to look into those blue, blue eyes, Peter smiled. He leaned in to kiss her again, this time with a gentle mingling of their tongues, and he said, “Mmm. I was right. That wine is good, but it tastes even better on you.”
There they sat, then, her fingers back in his hair, just smiling at each other, on a cheap air mattress in the pop-up tent that she’d gotten during Tevin’s oh-so-brief camping phase. The boys had slept out in their Massachusetts backyard maybe half a dozen times—and always with her sleeping between them, right in the middle.
Tonight was going to be an entirely different, completely new experience. “Huh,” she said.
Peter nodded as if he could somehow read her mind, as he lightly ran his hand down her arm, from the narrow straps of her top to her wrist and then back. But then, as he used just a few fingers to trace her collar bone—a sensation that made her breathless—he asked, “Have I apologized yet for this afternoon?”
Shay shook her head, no, as he ran his fingers along her tank’s neckline, his fingers warm against the tops of her breasts. “You don’t have to.”
“Yeah, I kind of do. I wanted…this. And I was too afraid to just say it.” He smiled, but he didn’t go any further. He just ran his fingers back the other way. “In my defense, I was, well, it’s kind of like, you don’t try to kiss the prettiest girl at the party if you’ve just puked. I was a little too aware of the whole shit-caked-in-my-ears thing.”
Shay laughed. What he was doing to her felt so good, she returned the favor, but since he was shirtless, she trailed her fingers across his stomach, along the top of his shorts.
It was his turn to draw in a deep breath as she did go farther, tucking her fingers—just a little, just the tips—into the waistband right below his belly button.
Peter was looking down at her bare legs, touching her with his gaze from the edge of her shorts all the way down to her toes before following with his hand—his full palm this time, and God, that nearly made her eyes roll back in her head, so she touched him the same way, running her hands from his shoulders down his arms, down his chest.
“Babe, your hotness factor has at least seven zeros regardless of what’s in your ears,” she whispered. “Although, I have to confess, Idolike you hosed down and squeaky clean. And lying on your back.”
Oh dear God, had she really just said that? It was a line of dialogue one of her extra-feisty heroines might say.
But, damn, it was effective, because he gently pulled himself free from her hands, and lay back on the mattress. On his back.
He was close enough to touch her, and he did—reaching for her, and pulling her toward him. “I’m not sure how I like you yet—I’m reserving that for after I conduct a thorough investigation—but I strongly suspect that you, naked, on top of me, while I’m on my back, is going to vie formyfavorite.”
She resisted—just a bit. “I’m sorry, aren’t we skipping ahead in the whole hat-trick thing?”
“Just reversing the order.” Peter smiled as he gently tugged the strap of her top down her arm, kissing her shoulder as he finally—finally—moved his hand to her breast. His touch was still gentle so she pressed herself more fully into his palm even as she straddled him, and yeah, God, there he was. Long and hard and already weirdly-but-wonderfully familiar, except this time she wanted all that gentlemanly accessoriness deep inside of her as she came.
Peter obviously wanted that, too. He’d let go of her so he could push down and kick free from his shorts, and she climbed back off of him, both to get out of his way, and to do some clothing removal of her own. Tank up and over her head, and boxers down her legs.
It was a good thing she wasn’t a man, because she’d be feeling mightily intimidated by his naked perfection. All those muscles, right where they were supposed to be, every part of his body perfectly proportioned to his extra-large size. She’d felt his penis against her, but seeing him for the first time, erect like this, made her laugh, becausedamn.
But then she flashed both hot and cold because, God, she was naked, too, and the light was on, but the way he breathed, “Jesus, you’re beautiful,” helped. That was his opinion, and even though, like most women, she could list her flaws and imperfections on a full page, single-spaced, who was she to say what anyone else should or shouldn’t find beautiful?
She had lovely skin—she knew that. It was smooth and soft and a beautiful, rich color. And maybe her stomach was a little too soft and full but it seemed to work nicely with the curves of her hips and breasts. Also? She was forty, and she’d lived well and joyfully—borne two beautiful sons with this body that Peter was now studying with real heat in his eyes.
She laughed again as they both reached for a condom, their hands colliding. She pulled back. “You do it, I’ll take too long.”
“Too longsounds fun, but yeah, another time,” he said as he tore open the packet.
She shifted back, just a little, to watch, her hands on the hard muscles in his thighs, his gaze hot as his attention flickered from that task at hand to her body and up into her eyes and back again. He smiled again. “Best earthquake ever.”
She had to agree.
As he finished, she reached for him, wanting to touch, wrapping both of her hands around him as she looked into his eyes. He made a noise of pleasure and his hips rose off the mattress, and she knew he had to work it—hard—to form actual words, even as he reached down to take her by the wrists. “That, too, will be fun, but right now, I want…”
Yeah, she wanted the same thing.
So Shay didn’t wait. She straddled him, reaching down to guide him as she took him deeply inside of her. They both made noise at that—it would’ve been impossible not to, it felt that incredible.
As she began to move against him—with him—she leaned down to kiss him, and he met her halfway, sitting up and pulling her closer to take her mouth with his. His hands were everywhere, touching, skimming her skin as she did the same to him, wanting to touch and, God, taste every inch of him. It was hard to tell where she ended and he began. Her soft fit against his hard with perfection—and she was not one to throw that word around lightly.
