my friends and brothers just thought I partied harder than them. But then, it started consuming my life. I couldn’t get out of bed without drinking a beer. I couldn’t make it through a day without ten drinks under my belt. After high school, I just lapsed into this junkie lifestyle. I was messing around with drugs, though alcohol was always my wife. She was the love of my life, and I was blacked out for the early part of my twenties. I’m not even sure who I slept with, or where I ended up at the end of the night. Half the time I had it, I wasn’t even really conscious of having sex. That sounds disgusting, horrifying … but it’s true. I was so wasted, I don’t even remember those girls’ faces.”
Ryan bites her lip, and I wonder if she thinks I’m a monster.
But, I continue. “When I finally got sober, they tell you in AA that you’re not supposed to start a romantic relationship during your first year in the program. The focus is supposed to be on recovery, not a relationship. So I followed the rules, to the letter. I cleaned up my life, made amends to my family and those I’d hurt, started showing up for work and saving my money. And then … I don’t know. I just kind of let that no romance rule bleed into the second year, and then the third. I figured that eventually, if I was into someone enough, I’d break the dry spell. But that person never came, or maybe I just wasn’t open to it. I focused on my family, my job, and my dream of turning all of this into a full-time gig.”
When I finish, she’s looking at me with a curious expression on her face. “So, when you mean dry spell … you mean, you haven’t …”
“I haven’t had sex in five years.” I nod, fully aware of how pathetic that sounds.
What she does next right about bowls me over.
Ryan steps into my space, presses her palms to my cheeks, and pulls me in for a kiss. As if it’s a Pavlovian response, my hands seek her hips, pulling our bodies as close together as they can be and then running up the length of her slim torso. I feel her shiver, and I walk us backward until I can lean against my workbench, the hottest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on pressed up against me.
“You are captivating …” I whisper into her mouth, seconds before our tongues meet.
Ryan purrs with delight as our mouths dance. You can kiss anyone, it’s just an action that most grown adults are practiced at. But for it to matter, for there to be passion, the person on the other end has to incite wonder in you.
And that’s what this woman does for me.
I’m about to let my hand wander under her shirt, chancing my luck to see if I can move us any further, when Ryan bypasses all the bases and sinks to her knees.
“What are you—”
The words that come out of my mouth are hoarse and cut off when she deftly unbuckles my belt, unbuttons my shorts, and pulls down my zipper.
“Holy fuck,” I murmur, just the sight of her before me enough to have my dick ramrod straight in two seconds flat.
Ryan’s long lashes sweep up, those whiskey-colored eyes intoxicating to me. There is a bit of a devilish smile twinkling in them, and I’m seeing the temptress side of her. Everything about this woman is arresting, and now that I see her in the midst of her sexual prime …
I can see why men fall at her feet.
She keeps her eyes glued to mine as she pushes my shorts past my hips and then reaches into my boxers. The second her fist grips me, I feel my knees buckle. It’s been so long since someone other than my right hand grasped my cock, and the feel of her silky smooth fingers is enough pressure to make me come.
“Ry—” I want to tell her I’m not going to last even another ten seconds, but before I can get the words out, she tests out her grip and pumps a small stroke.
Her eyes go wide as they take my dick in, the length of me swollen and ruddy. The muscles in it twitch and make my appendage bob … it’s probably damn excited it’s getting some attention after all this time.
“Wow,” Ryan deadpans, and I have to