and had his way with me now, I’d be in heaven. My knees felt
as weak as cotton balls. I bit my bottom lip and knew my eyes had softened.
Jake looked as good as I had always remembered. A little
taller than the last time I’d seen him, his arms muscular and chest high. The
ruffled hair suited him much better than the mullet he used to wear.
It’d be fun to run my fingers through his hair, maybe
pull on it a little.
I felt a lump in my throat, and my breath quickened. I
hadn’t been with a man in three months. At my age, sexual needs drove me to the
brink of a breakdown. When they said women in their thirties were in their
prime, they weren’t lying. There was only so much that my fingers and a
vibrator could accomplish. My body was starving, but I couldn’t imagine a man
from twenty years ago filling the need that tickled me between the legs and wet
my underwear, could I? Of course I could! Making love to Jake would be exactly
that, because I had never stopped loving him.
I shook my head to get back to reality. What was I thinking?
Why had seeing him created such an overwhelming rush of emotions?
I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing I hadn’t put on a
bra this morning and that with the thoughts that were running through my mind,
my nipples had ripened to their fullest. Thankfully Jake had turned away.
“Is this a good place to talk?” He pointed to the table in
the dinette.
“Let’s go to the back.” I gestured toward the patio door
that led to the private back yard. The house was set on six acres of land, secluded
in a clearing of a forest just outside of town.
Jake must have jumped the front gate.
We stepped out to the back. The wicker patio set included a
double lounge. I’d pictured us on that mattress several times in the past few
months. My wanton thoughts always wandered back to Jake, especially in the past
three months of torturous abstinence. I wasn’t ready to give in to my new
boyfriend, the first serious one since my husband’s death – or perhaps I didn’t
want to. Secretly, I’d wanted to make a trip to Venice before making any
commitments, so I could perhaps run into Jake. But I hadn’t spoken with him
since my husband’s passing and didn’t even know whether he still lived there.
Rushing off to see an ex-boyfriend just after my husband’s passing might have rubbed
my family the wrong way.
“Please, have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?” I asked,
noting my glass of red wine on the patio table. The dozen candles scattered
around the patio glowed in the night.
“No. I’ll try to make it quick.” His brisk tone surprised me.
Quick? You just got here!
“Why? Are you in a hurry?”
“No. But I’m afraid that if I don’t say what I should have
said twenty years ago, I’ll lose my nerve and lose you again.”
“Oh.” I plopped down in the chair beside him. Yes, I was
brave enough to be this close to Jake. I didn’t want to lose him either. The
moment I opened the door, I knew I wouldn’t let him leave. Though I hadn’t seen
him for twenty years, my heart beat as strongly in Jake’s presence as it had
the day we parted. My feelings for him had never changed.
“Do you live here now?” I asked. Jake and I had been on
different continents most of our lives. It’s what had kept me away from him: distance.
Should it have? Should we have worked harder to be together? With my legs curled
under me, I sat crossed-legged. The cool air felt liberating when I opened my
legs. The tingling had become unbearable, and a bit more freedom would cool
down the urge below my navel. Or so I hoped.
“No. I’m still in Venice.” We had corresponded before my
husband’s death, as good friends. He’d given me advice, and I’d helped him
through his divorce. I had always felt guilty during my marriage for keeping in
touch with a man who owned a piece of my heart, but there was no other way.
Jake would forever be in my life, no matter whom I was with.
I’d had a happy
as weak as cotton balls. I bit my bottom lip and knew my eyes had softened.
Jake looked as good as I had always remembered. A little
taller than the last time I’d seen him, his arms muscular and chest high. The
ruffled hair suited him much better than the mullet he used to wear.
It’d be fun to run my fingers through his hair, maybe
pull on it a little.
I felt a lump in my throat, and my breath quickened. I
hadn’t been with a man in three months. At my age, sexual needs drove me to the
brink of a breakdown. When they said women in their thirties were in their
prime, they weren’t lying. There was only so much that my fingers and a
vibrator could accomplish. My body was starving, but I couldn’t imagine a man
from twenty years ago filling the need that tickled me between the legs and wet
my underwear, could I? Of course I could! Making love to Jake would be exactly
that, because I had never stopped loving him.
I shook my head to get back to reality. What was I thinking?
Why had seeing him created such an overwhelming rush of emotions?
I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing I hadn’t put on a
bra this morning and that with the thoughts that were running through my mind,
my nipples had ripened to their fullest. Thankfully Jake had turned away.
“Is this a good place to talk?” He pointed to the table in
the dinette.
“Let’s go to the back.” I gestured toward the patio door
that led to the private back yard. The house was set on six acres of land, secluded
in a clearing of a forest just outside of town.
Jake must have jumped the front gate.
We stepped out to the back. The wicker patio set included a
double lounge. I’d pictured us on that mattress several times in the past few
months. My wanton thoughts always wandered back to Jake, especially in the past
three months of torturous abstinence. I wasn’t ready to give in to my new
boyfriend, the first serious one since my husband’s death – or perhaps I didn’t
want to. Secretly, I’d wanted to make a trip to Venice before making any
commitments, so I could perhaps run into Jake. But I hadn’t spoken with him
since my husband’s passing and didn’t even know whether he still lived there.
Rushing off to see an ex-boyfriend just after my husband’s passing might have rubbed
my family the wrong way.
“Please, have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?” I asked,
noting my glass of red wine on the patio table. The dozen candles scattered
around the patio glowed in the night.
“No. I’ll try to make it quick.” His brisk tone surprised me.
Quick? You just got here!
“Why? Are you in a hurry?”
“No. But I’m afraid that if I don’t say what I should have
said twenty years ago, I’ll lose my nerve and lose you again.”
“Oh.” I plopped down in the chair beside him. Yes, I was
brave enough to be this close to Jake. I didn’t want to lose him either. The
moment I opened the door, I knew I wouldn’t let him leave. Though I hadn’t seen
him for twenty years, my heart beat as strongly in Jake’s presence as it had
the day we parted. My feelings for him had never changed.
“Do you live here now?” I asked. Jake and I had been on
different continents most of our lives. It’s what had kept me away from him: distance.
Should it have? Should we have worked harder to be together? With my legs curled
under me, I sat crossed-legged. The cool air felt liberating when I opened my
legs. The tingling had become unbearable, and a bit more freedom would cool
down the urge below my navel. Or so I hoped.
“No. I’m still in Venice.” We had corresponded before my
husband’s death, as good friends. He’d given me advice, and I’d helped him
through his divorce. I had always felt guilty during my marriage for keeping in
touch with a man who owned a piece of my heart, but there was no other way.
Jake would forever be in my life, no matter whom I was with.
I’d had a happy
Similar Books
