Page 19 of Midlife Crisis

His shoulders fall, and he tosses the cloth toward the bathroom.

“What happened here?” His voice hardens, and while I’m not afraid of his size, this tone frightens me.

“I came here to thank you. I wasn’t expecting anything else. I guess I…I guess I went too far.” With two powerful steps, Hank is before me. He grips my shoulders, forcing me to look up at him.

“Why would you say that?”

I shrug. I don’t know how to answer him. Something changed. I can’t put my finger on it, but he seems displeased. Maybe I sucked, no pun intended.

“I…” I almost apologize, but I’m tired of saying sorry for no reason. I’m not sorry. I just experienced the best oral sex of my life, and I put everything into giving him head. I’m just going to take my memory and leave.

“Cupcake, I don’t know where your thoughts are going, but that”—he points at the desk, disheveled by pushed back papers—“was fucking hot as hell. I thought we were good, so why are you about to run off?”

“You don’t seem pleased. I didn’t mean to take advantage of anything.” He laughs, full-on belly rumbling if his rock hard abs could move. “Don’t laugh at me,” I snap.

Hands cup my cheeks and I’m tugged upward as his head lowers. His mouth crashes against mine again, smothering me with his lips. He’s kissing the life out of me, literally. His lips work mine—nipping, sucking, dragging—until I relax under this attention. He pulls back but holds my face, keeping his close.

“I’m not laughing at you. I just told you how fucking hot I thought that was. You…little lady, you’re something.” He kisses the tip of my nose as he stands to his full height, and I feel only slightly better. “Go out with me.”

“On a date?” I choke. Of course, he means a date. What am I saying?

“Yes, a date.” He bites the corner of his lip, holding back more laughter. “A real date. Let’s get to know one another.”

A slow smile cracks my face. “I think we’re doing okay.”

His silver eyes lose some of their glimmer and I don’t know what I’ve said. “That all you want from me?” His head tips toward the desk, implying what we just did.

My cheeks fall. He looks hurt and my heart pinches. “No,” I assure. “No, absolutely not.”

“Okay.” He nods, but a bit of playfulness disappears. “How about Friday? I’ll pick you up at six thirty?”

9

Date night

[Hank]

Midge’s house is in the San Gabriel area, which is a far cry from our Pasadena shop even though the burbs are near one another. The two-story, yellow-sided home with a bay window looks like something out of a movie. Its petite size fits Midge, but the sunny color doesn’t fool me. Midge is a complicated woman on the verge of a sexual rebirth yet struggling with her confidence. I recognize this because she’s exactly like me.

After what we did in Brut’s office, we sort of fell apart. My mind caught up with me. Thoughts of Kit clouded my judgment and dulled my immediate reaction to the powerful orgasm this little lady gave me. Images of Kit flipped through my mind—her pleasure in bringing me to my knees, knowing I’d give her whatever she wanted once she got what she wanted from me. The memory momentarily steamrolled the moment with Midge. I needed a minute to get my head straight, and I lost Midge in the meantime.

To make it up to her, I ask her out on a date that’s over the top for me, taking the advice of my twenty-one-year-old nephew. Watershed Rice is one of the fanciest Thai restaurants in the city, and I dress in my old suit, hoping to impress Midge. She isn’t some rocker chick; she’s a lady. Standing in my office with her fuck-me pumps, a tight red skirt, and an innocent white shirt, she looked like a piece of candy, and I wanted to lick her all over. However, the grease on my hands is a reminder that I’m well under her league. At one point in my life, I might not have given someone like Midge a thought, but now, she’s all I think about. I’m not being a snob; I just mean Midge is too clean for who I once was.

Nerves rattle me as I cross the walk up to the front door. We talked during the week, and she told me how her boys would be spending spring break with their father in Santa Barbara. She’s stressed about finding a new job, and I want to distract her for one night. Knocking on the door, I swipe at my forehead, rolling my shoulders to loosen the tension.

When Midge opens the door, my breath catches. She’s another delicacy, draped in black lace, and I want to skip dinner, rip off the dress, and get to dessert.

“Hey,” she says sweetly, leaning against the door.

“You’re fucking beautiful.” The compliment blurts out without thought, and she pinks. I want that blush. I want the sweet color all over her body where I can chase the outline. My dick rocks to life. Fuck, I need to calm down. I already whacked off before coming here, hoping it would relieve the pressure, but just the sight of her looking at me like she does has me wound and ready again.

“Are those for me?” I forgot about the flowers in my hand, another suggestion from my nephew. I never buy flowers. Kit thought they were weak compensation. Her father sent flowers, and she threw them away. Her ex-husband sent them as an apology when he fucked up again. Managers, lawyers, other industry members…all sent flowers to congratulate her, but she didn’t like the message they lacked. She wanted words.

Standing before me, glowing like night fauna, Midge reaches for the flowers I offer, draws them to her nose to inhale, and looks up at me under lowered lids. It’s sexy as fuck, and I plan to trace her body later with those petals. “I love wildflowers.”

She means it. She gestures for me to enter, and I follow her as she leads to her kitchen for a vase.

“This is a nice place,” I say for something to say. I’m not noting any one thing, other than the layout is open, simple, and bright like Midge. The kitchen has a huge island and a large table for six. She fills a vase with water and puts the flowers in the center of the table.