“Mmm-hmmm,” she murmurs.
I run down to the kitchen, cut a couple slices of cucumbers, and rush back up to put them on her eyes. She doesn’t even acknowledge my presence, which leads me to believe that she’s asleep.
That’s ok. She needs sleep.
This is the biggest day of her life.
But me… I’ve got some time to kill. And Sam is the perfect person to kill it with.
I’m only dressed in a t-shirt and underwear at this point, but I don’t let that stop me. I shove my feet in the high-heels I was wearing last night, and head out the door with my coffee cup. I wait on the porch for Sam to jog back, because how long can a forty-year old jog?
Turns out, for quite a while.
In fact, he wakes me up when he returns, by nudging my shoulder.
“Hey, you ok?” he asks, and he’s sweaty and has that freshly-worked out man look. It’s delicious.
I look at him through red, blurred eyes.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I tell him and a yawn pops up out of nowhere and I accidentally breathe in his face. He cringes.
Morning breath.
“You’ve got a little something…” he gestures towards his chin and so I swipe at my own. A string of drool hangs there, from my chin to a pool of it on my shoulder.
Perfect. Good lord.
I’m a drooling sleeper with morning breath.
“Did you know you’re not wearing pants?” Sam asks conversationally as he leans against the steps to stretch his calves. I nod.
“I did notice that.”
“Your heels seem… functional,” he adds, and I do believe he’s being sarcastic.
“I could go jogging in heels,” I inform him. “For real. I could keep up with you. On any day that I’m not hung over.”
“So, never, then?” Sam cocks an eyebrow.
“I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me,” I say defensively.
“Do I?”
“Yeah. I’m not some party-all-the-time woman who refuses to age.”
“No?”
“Get your eyebrow out of your hairline,” I snap. “I’m being serious.”
“Do tell,” he smiles, and he waggles his brows instead. I ignore that.
“I’m just a girl who likes to have fun,” I say simply. “I do what I want, when I want. It just so happens that most men my age don’t have the energy to keep up.”
“Is that a challenge?” he demands, and he pulls his ankle behind him, up to his waist, stretching his hamstring.
“No,” I assure him. “It’s a fact”
He bursts out laughing. “Fine. I accept the challenge. You and me, tonight. At the wedding reception. I’m betting you can’t hang with me.”
My spine stiffens. “Of course I can. You’ll be in bed by ten, old man.”
“Only if you’re with me,” he sniffs, and then grins, and my panties melt.
He walks into the house and leaves me in stunned silence, and God, that is rare.
I’m never silent.
Fourteen
I vow to love, honor and cherish you, and get in trouble for the rest of my life
“You look so beautiful,” I tell Alli, as she stands in the evening light from the window.
And she really does. Her hair is in a loose chignon, her veil light and airy, flowing down her back, and she looks so ethereal and elegant.
“You did a great job on my makeup,” she says as she glances into a nearby mirror. “You can’t even see my black eye.”
I smile. “One thing I know how to do is makeup.”
“You look amazing, too,” Alli tells me. My strapless pale pink gown skims my hips and shows off my figure to perfection. “You can barely see your tattoo.”
That’s a lie, and she can’t even keep a straight face saying it.
We burst out laughing.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” I tell her. “We’ve come so far. Your ex Rick the Dick, changing jobs, moving, liberating our inner cougars… we’ve come far, Alli-Girl.”
“I couldn’t have done any of it without you,” she hugs my shoulders.
“Don’t get mushy,” I warn her. “I don’t want you to mess up your makeup.” But really, I don’t want to mess up mine, and my eyes are already a bit misty.
“Mom? Sara?” Alli’s daughter Sophie pokes her beautiful head in Alli’s room, and Alli lets out a squeal, rushing to hug her daughter.
“You’re cutting it close,” she chides, squeezing the breath out of Sophie.
“I wouldn’t miss this for the entire world,” Soph assures her. “You look beautiful. And you do, too, Aunt Sara.”
“So do you,” we both tell her. Her bridesmaid dress fits her perfectly, and her hair is long and lush, just like her mama’s.
“You ready?” Sophie asks. “It’s time.”
“I’ve never been so ready.”
Alli is glowing as we take our places on the edge of the gardens. First, Sophie goes down the aisle, then Sam offers me his arm, and he walks me down the aisle toward the flower archway at the front.
“Nice penis,” he says out of the corner of his mouth, and with a perfectly straight face. I try not to snort.
All eyes are trained on us, and I have to believe, on my penis shoulder.
The music is soft and beautiful, the sun is low in the sky, the breeze is perfect. Everything is perfect.
Until,
Until,
Sam steps on my dress.
Things happen in ridiculously slow motion.
He steps,
I trip,
The bodice of my dress comes down,
And my strapless bra comes with it.
My boobs are flapping in the wind, flapped out for the whole world to see, my nipples puckering in the evening air. Everyone in attendance has a perfect view of my bare tits.
The audience gasps as I land neatly in Sam’s arms.
“You’ve got nice boobs,” the cad says to me, as he smoothly yanks my dress up.
“Thank you,” I tell him politely.
He sets me on my feet and I adjust my top, and everyone watches me in horror.
“It’s just a pair of boobs,” I tell them calmly. “Half of you have them, and half of you have seen them. It’s ok.”
I’m in complete composure as I stroll with my penis tattoo to the front with Sam, and when I get there, Alex grins at me.
“Nice entrance. You trying to upstage Alli?”
I shake my head and glare. “Hardly.”
The bridal music comes on, and everyone stands and then everyone forgets my debacle because Alli is beautiful as she floats toward us, arm in arm with Sophie.
Every step she takes is sure and true, and she doesn’t falter or pause. She keeps her eyes on Alex the entire time, and he watches her with anticipation. When she reaches us, Alex kisses her on the cheek.
“That was a nice act to follow,” she tells me with a grin as she stands next to me. I nod.
“Just trying to do my part.”
She giggles, and Alex elbows her.
She pays attention then, and the minutes fly by and before I know it, the minister is pronouncing them husband and wife.
“Mr. and Mrs. Harris,” the minister presents them to the audience. They turn and everyone claps and they head back down the aisle. Sam offers me his arm and I take it, and we follow.
“You going to flash me again?” he asks.
“That wasn’t for your benefit,” I inform him.
“Oh, please.”
He’s kidding, and it’s funny, and I laugh.
“You’re going to dance with me all night,” he declares, and I roll my eyes.
“Please. There’s a lot of men in the ocean here. You aren’t the only one.”
“I’m the only one who matters to you,” he says cockily, and I have to admit, silently, in my head, that he’s right. I’m infatuated, suddenly and almost completely.
“You’re too old,” I tell him. He grins again.
> “We’ll see.”
He’s true to his word. He keeps up with me. He dances, and fetches champagne, and toasts his sister. He stays next to me all night.
I watch him being oh-so-charming to the little old ladies in attendance.
“You’re so good with the blue-hairs,” I tell him. He smiles.
“Just getting prepared for you.”
I glare at him.
But he still sucks me in. He dances with Sophie, and she’s completely enamored with her “uncle Sam”, because he’s gentle and funny and kind with her.
He dances with his sister, and he handles her carefully, reverently, laughing with her.
“Do you want to dance?” I ask him, because by now, I’m dying to be in his arms. He smiles.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
He leads me around the floor, and every touch on my skin makes me want more. He guides me smoothly, deftly.
By nine o’clock, I find myself craving him.
His eyes smolder, and I want him.
With Alli and Alex dipping and swaying on the dance floor, I back Sam into the edge of the gardens, where the shadows engulf us.
“What do you have planned?” he asks curiously, as if he doesn’t know he’s been trying to catch my attention all night.
I cup his balls.
He lets me.
I slide my fingers across his rock hard chest.
He lets me.
He lifts his hands to grasp my shoulders, and in doing so, touches my penis tattoo. I flinch.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. He slides his hands down to my butt and pulls me to him, against his hard rigidity.
I gasp.
“Feel something you like?” he drawls quietly, and he guides my hand to it, gliding my fingers over his length.
No, he certainly isn’t a four-inch surprise.
“Yes,” I answer boldly, because I never pussy-foot around.
“Then do something about it,” he advises.
So I do. I lead him to my room, and we collapse onto the bed. His mouth plunders mine, his tongue delving, delving, delving. And I don’t ever want him to stop kissing me. His fingers know just what to do, just where to go, and he’s ever so experienced. I don’t have to guide him at all.
“There’s a benefit in age, after all,” I admit to him. He grins against my throat, right before he lightly bites it. I arch against him, and he bites me again, just before he shoves his trousers down and plunges into me. He doesn’t even bother to take off my dress.
It’s fucking hot.
He’s fucking hot. Hotter than anyone I’ve ever been with.
Confidence is sexy.
He fucks me hard, then soft, then hard again, and his stamina is more than I’ve ever seen. Minutes turn into minutes turn into minutes.
He makes me come first, and it’s earthshattering and mind-blowing. I think I see in black and white as I call out his name and scratch at his back.
Then he comes, and I swear, it’s just as hot. He pulls me to him, ever so close and moans my name in my ear. It makes me even wetter.
And before he can pull out, he fucks me again, with absolutely no recovery time, in delicious wet sloppy sex.
When we’re done, I snuggle into his side and fall asleep, and just as I’m drifting off, I realize that I’m falling asleep first. He won’t let me forget it.
Fifteen
Oh, yes, I did
“Oh my god!” Alli screeches, and I open my eyes and it’s morning.
She’s stunned in the doorway and then comes to pull me out of bed.
“No, no, no,” she hollers as she tugs at me. “This is why I didn’t tell you about Sam. I love you, Sar, but you’re not going to eat my brother for breakfast.”
It takes me a minute to realize what she’s saying.
“Your brother can stand his own ground,” I tell her honestly. “I’m not eating anyone, for breakfast or otherwise. I’m not hungry.”
Alli pauses and eyes me. “You like him,” she breathes, as though it’s scandalous or ridiculous. “You really like him.”
I think I blush, and I don’t reply. Sam pulls me closer, and I can feel his heart beating, and I know Alli is right. I really like him.
Lord, have mercy. Is it the end of the world already? Has hell frozen over?
Sam chuckles. “It’s ok, Sara. It’s normal. And you already know I bite, so we’ve got that covered.”
Alli grimaces. “TMI, brother.”
I giggle and my penis shoulder edges out of the sheets.
“We’re leaving for the airport,” Alli tells us. “We’ll be in Barbados by tonight. You’re welcome to stay here for a little…getaway, if you know what I mean.”
She waggles her eyebrows and a five-year old would know what she meant. I pull the sheet up with me and go hug her.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I caution her.
She rolls her eyes. “Well, that just opened up a world of possibilities.”
She hugs us both and then she’s gone, and Sam and I are alone.
We eye each other.
“When was your last relationship?” I ask him, tightening the sheet around me. I’m expecting him to say years ago, or that he’d never had a real relationship, or something. I’m used to younger men.
But he surprises me. “I just got out of long term relationship last year,” he tells me.
“Why did you break up?”
“We just wanted different things out of life,” he shrugs. “She wanted to focus on her work and I got tired of always being second priority. How about you?”
I think of Chazz. It’s sad that he’s my only ‘relationship’ in years.
“It’s possible that I’ve tried too hard to be carefree,” I offer hesitantly.
“And in doing so, you might’ve missed out on some great opportunities to be happy,” Sam says. He reaches for my hand and his fingers are strong. “Alli has told me a lot about you over the years, by the way. I always thought it would be interesting to meet you.”
“Well, she told me nothing about you,” I sniff. “Apparently, she was worried about me eating you.”
He laughs and pulls me close. “I say we take her up on her invitation. Stay here with me this week, have a little vacation. See if you can keep up with me.”
I laugh at that, because I’ll leave him in my dust.
He dips his head to kiss the curve of my neck and warm butterflies flutter through my belly.
I’ll leave him in my dust later, though. I’ll do this kissing thing first.
“We won’t leave this bed often,” he tells me, as though it’s a warning.
“Deal,” I agree. “I just require wine and pizza.”
“We’re in a winery,” he points out. “And we can order pizza.”
“Then I accept your challenge,” I tell him firmly.
“That wasn’t a challenge,” he answers cockily. “It was a fact.”
“I like your ballsiness,” I tell him.
“I like yours,” he answers.
He cups my girl, and fondles her and pulls me close, and I decide he’s right. We won’t leave this bed all week.
Also, his pubes are not gray. I checked.
“I’m glad your penis wasn’t four inches,” I tell him happily. He startles.
“Why would you think that?”
I shrug. “I was just worried about it. Size matters, you know.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my size,” he’s indignant.
I soothe him. “Of course not. I know that now.”
He still seems indignant, so I kiss him on the mouth, hard.
He’s unfazed for a minute, then he reacts, kissing me deeper and deeper.
“You’re a good vintage,” he tells me when he finally pulls back for air.
“I’m not old,” I insist, raking my thirty-five year old nails down his back. He smiles against my lips.
“Nope. You’re well-seasoned.”
“Very well-balanced,
” I agree. He lifts an eyebrow.
“I don’t know that I’d say that,” he murmurs. I glare and he grins, and is it weird that I can see some of Alli in his smile?
I ignore that. It’s weird to find my BFF’s smile sexy, even if it is on Sam.
We spend the afternoon in bed. Then the evening. We don’t get up until seven pm, and when we do, I don’t bother getting dressed. I wrap a sheet around me, and we sit in the garden, sipping at wine, eating cheese and crackers and staring at the stars.
“This isn’t a bad life at all,” I tell him, gazing around at the grapevines, the stars, the quiet night and even his little cottage on the edge of the property. From here, it’s quaint, with vines and stone. Sam smiles at me.
“I like it here. I used to have a high-pressure life, and then I decided I wanted to simplify. It’s the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“What did you do before?”
“I was an investment banker.”
I do a double-take at that, because he doesn’t look the type. He chuckles.
“Yeah, I know. I used to have more suits than I knew what to do with.”
“Is that when you pierced your nipples?”
He’s sheepish now. “Maybe. It’s when I got tattooed.”
“Let’s not talk about tattoos,” I suggest, thinking of the penis on my back. I’ve got to start thinking of ways to have that fixed.
“Leave it,” Sam says, as if he can read my mind. “It’s so you.”
“A penis?” I pretend to be outraged. “I can’t believe you’d say so.”
“You seem to be a little obsessed with them,” he points out. “Have you ever been in therapy?”
I smack him now and as I do, I drop my sheet and I flash him. He studies me in appreciation.
“You have a beautiful body,” he tells me quietly. “It’s perfect.”
“For a thirty-five year old?”
“Nope. It’s just perfect.”
My belly warms and the butterflies flutter and I think angels might’ve sang in the background.
“You know the way to my heart,” I announce.
“I’m planning on finding it,” he tells me, and all of a sudden he’s serious.
“You’re going to find the way to my heart?”