Page 71 of A Hero Comes Home

“Fun? You pulled a hamstring.”

“Well worth the pain, baby!”

“Or I would have thought your favorite would be a place, like the kitchen sink.”

“No, it was good old missionary style. In my own bed in my own house, no longer living in the guest room at my parents’, with my wife, who’d recently given me a baby. And did I mention it had been six weeks since we’d had sex?”

She was silent for a moment before saying, quietly, “Yeah, that was good.”

Of course, the next time he won a game, he reversed the table on her by saying, “What was your most memorable sex?”

She didn’t answer right away. “It was the last time you said ‘I love you’ during sex and meant it. Not just a throwaway line.”

“Huh? I always mean it . . . meant it,” he argued. “When was this?”

“Christmas, three and a half or so years ago. We had just had a big argument about the usual subject—your leaving again. And then we made up.”

“Makeup sex,” he said dismissively, but she’d given him something to think about. And, by the way, he thought, when was the last time you said those three words to me and meant them, cupcake? He didn’t say that, though, not wanting to provoke her into saying something he might not like, or starting a conversation he wasn’t ready for.

“Whoa! This game is getting way too serious,” she declared with sudden brightness. “How about we switch to ‘Truth or Dare’?”

The ride home from then on was like an hours-long exercise in foreplay. Arousing to the point of pain, tantalizing to the point of almost, but never quite, release. In other words, prolonged sexual bliss.

It was so much fun that Jake could have cried.

It was gaming, but so much more.

It was wicked sex. Not with a stranger, but his wife.

By the time they arrived back at the cottage in Bell Cove, they stumbled out of the car and barely made it into the house before he had her on the kitchen table. Or rather she had him on the kitchen table—shoved him against the edge and on his back, with her crawling up over him. She was the one struggling to get his belt unbuckled and his pants unzipped.

So much for her being repulsed by him!

He was too busy being in shock, and then laughing so hard he choked on his words. Between bursts of laughter, he was trying to say, “Wait—oh, hell—Sally, give me a chance to . . . oh, my God, you almost zipped my cock.”

But then she lifted her dress up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Looking downward, she grinned and cooed, “Oh, good, a big ol’ Blue Steeler.”

He let out a hoot of laughter at that risqué observation. And grew a bit bigger and bit more blue.

Gritting his teeth, he got his blue-veined self in hand, literally, and was guiding himself up and into her hot, hot, thank-You-God wetness. His eyes rolled back into his head (both of them, he was pretty sure) at the sheer extreme pleasure of her inner muscles grasping him, hard. Leaning up, he took one nipple into his mouth and she was the one choking out, “Oh . . . that feels . . . so good . . . I can’t . . .” Then he switched and gave equal rhythmic attention to the other breast until she was keening a continuous “Aaaaaahhhhh!”

He did a mental “Chalk one up!”

No sooner did her inner spasming end than she began to ride him, but he controlled the pace. Her eyes were so glazed with passion that she probably didn’t know what she was doing at this point. He wasn’t much better off. The sex didn’t last long. It couldn’t, not with their sexual drives in overload.

And yet, she ordered, “Don’t come yet,” and reached behind her buttocks to cup his balls.

Which of course caused him to come to a roaring climax.

And she followed soon after when he used a middle finger between their melded bodies to tickle her clit. He didn’t know if it was her second or third orgasm. He’d lost count.

In the end, she lay on top of him, his flaccid dick still inside her, her face nestled in the crook of his neck. When their breaths slowed to a mere panting, she raised her head to look at him. She was crying.

And he was the one most shocked when he kissed her softly and said, “I love you.”

She was no fool! . . .

What a day!