Had he been able to read my mind, that amusement would have been the snow kicking up behind the back tires of his truck as he sped away from the crazy woman as quickly as possible.
I eased my naked butt onto the sofa and snatched a pillow to cover my exposed bits. “Gah … I swore if I ever had this kind of chance, I would not talk about my dead husband. But …”
“But you feel like you’re cheating on him.”
I shook my head. “No. Not that. You see ... we met in high school. Back then, I was confident and rightly so. I was this petite cheerleader—strong, toned, thick hair, perky boobs. When the star basketball player gave me a second look, I wasn’t surprised. I felt worthy. And over the years, we sort of…” I chuckled “…aged and fell apart together. So the thought of you getting a close look at all of me just spooked me for a moment.”
After he didn’t respond, I risked a glance up at him and his contented smirk. “I mean … don’t get me wrong. I’ve worked hard to eat well, exercise, moisturize, do all the age-defying things. It’s not that I think I’m grotesque or that I don’t have any sex appeal. I’m just not … thirty.”
“Okay.” Kael shrugged off his fitted, thermal shirt. “Good talk, Elsie. Are you done?”
My wide-eyed gaze affixed to his midsection. Hello, man abs. Longtime no see.
Craig used to have all the abs, a lean, athletic build with perfect muscle definition. By his mid-thirties, he surrendered to beer, regular fried foods with the guys, and he got a little lax on his exercise routine. It wasn’t an image or number on a scale. I loved him in all his forms as he had always loved me in my many forms. It was the blatant letting go of everything and the gross stuff that came with it that he didn’t try to hide even a little.
More flatulence.
More burping.
More body odor—onion breath from his takeout burgers being my not-so-favorite.
“We can just sit naked on the sofa for a while until you feel comfortable.” He inched his cargo pants over his hips, and they dropped like a Broadway curtain to his ankles, leaving him in nothing but black briefs and an impressive erection.
As soon as he hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of his briefs to remove them, I snapped out of my ab coma. “Whoa … wait.”
“Don’t worry; I’ve got a condom.” He leaned down and retrieved a condom from the back pocket of his cargo pants. “Pregnancy isn’t an issue. I’ve had a vasectomy, but I have to be responsible. I have no idea where you’ve been.”
My mouth fell open and a gasp released. “Me? How dare you—”
He cupped the back of my head and kissed me, pushing me back on the sofa. It took me a few seconds to surrender to the invasion of my mouth, his hips planted between my legs, and the erection behind his briefs stabbing me right there.
Poof!
There went my insecurities, crowded out of my head by an urgency to remove the cotton barrier between us. Foreplay used to be a big deal. I needed it. Not at that moment with Kael. I needed him inside of me so badly it ached.
Sex.
I needed sex.
Not love.
Not commitment.
Just. Sex.
And I needed it to be okay—but that need took a backseat to the other needs. I knew I’d work out the details of my sins later.
He tugged off my shirt, popping off a button as promised, and I unhooked my bra in the front, not giving the sad state of my breasts a second thought. Kael didn’t seem bothered by them, or the lack of them, as evident by his pleasurable moan when his mouth covered one. My hands explored his backside, slipping into his briefs and claiming as much firm muscle as I could hold.
Maybe he was a midlife crisis.
Maybe he was perspective.
Maybe he was simply a stupid mistake.
I just knew that, in the moment, I didn’t only let go of my incessant worry—I abandoned forty-two years of hard-earned common sense.
His arm shot down to the floor, pressing his hand flat to keep us from rolling off the sofa, but I pushed him in that direction until he somewhat gracefully landed on the floor with me on top of him.