Page 34 of Midlife Crisis

“You need to go again?” I do, but I’m biting my lip. He’s turning me into a sex-craving-wanton. Without an answer, he reads me and his thumb tenderly strokes over the hypersensitive skin, slick and slippery with what we just did. “I can’t go again so quickly, lady. Dammit.” He grumbles, but the pressure of his thumb increases. My knees tighten next to his thighs, and my hips roll over the thick pad of his thumb.

“Oh, lady. You ride that thumb of mine. You get there again while I watch. Holy fuck, are you hot.” I start grinding on him, doing as he says, until his thumb slips into me, and his finger meets it to pinch my clit. I yelp with the pleasure.

“You like that, little lady? My sweet girl wants to be naughty.” He pinches me again, and I cup my breasts. “Oh Lord, squeeze those beauties together again.” I do, and he jostles me. I’m losing control, slipping into an abyss of pure pleasure when suddenly, I’m on my back, and he’s got one knee between my thighs. He tugs off the spent condom and tosses it to the floor.

“How you feel about bareback riding, lady?” I don’t know what he means, but I need his thumb back, or something, anything for relief from the churning inside me. My own fingers skate lower on my belly, reaching coarse hair, when heavy fingers press mine flat. “Oh no, baby. This is all me tonight. Say okay?”

“Okay,” I murmur, drugged on him, the presence of his body over mine, the feel of his rock-solid tip, spreading me until…Oof. I’m filled again, and I sing a stream of unintelligible praises. The intrusion so quick, the penetration so deep, I curl up from the couch and wrap my arms around his shoulder blades. My open mouth finds his upper arm, and I might have bit him.

“Damn, girl,” he says hammering into me. I’m in that outer body space again, the euphoric state of unadulterated bliss as I slip one leg over his thigh, curling around him like a snake. The other foot falls to the floor, opening me up to the invasion of my body again, and again, and again until he strains forward, grunting. The pulsing fills me, warm heat collecting inside me. His naughty thumb finds the outside nub, and one flick sends me skyrocketing over the edge, falling into the blissful peace while I scream his name a second time.

He collapses over me, a sprawl of spent limbs and heavy breathing. He kisses my neck before pulling back, unable to breathe between the couch cushion and me. “Holy fuck, lady.”

I giggle, jostling him inside, and hot liquid seeps between my legs. My head rolls to look up at him.

“We might be a bit late to have this discussion, but I’m clean. Get checked every six months because...” His voice drifts.

Sweet cheese, is he talking shared needles or just multiple partners or something more extreme I should know? The questions crash through me in a millisecond, but then I let them go. Hank would not jeopardize me like that, but I’ve lost him in those seconds. He sits back, carefully removing himself and reaching for his tee to wipe me up.

“Hank?” The whisper of his name brings him back a little but not enough. He’s going to bolt again, and my shoulders drop.

“Let me get something to clean you with.” I reach for him but miss as he stands.

“Forget it. What about dinner?” I ask as if this was the more important issue. We could order pizza, I think. Watch a movie. Maybe cuddle. Thankfully, I don’t suggest the last one because he speaks.

“It’s late.”

“Stay.” I hate how needy I sound.

“I would, but you have work tomorrow.” He tries to tease me, but the humor isn’t there. The playfulness in his eyes is missing. He leans forward to kiss my cheek instead of my lips, and I’m left naked on my couch as he gathers his things. He walks to my kitchen, depositing the spent condom, and I simply hold my shirt to my chest as he comes back to me. I don’t know what to say. The rejection stabs deep after the high of two orgasms. He leans forward, kisses me too briefly, and says good night before leaving me.

14

Not taking no

[Hank]

I’m a fucking asshole, and I admit it. I don’t know why I left her. Caught between dragging her to her room and running, I ran. I should have at least checked on her, but I didn’t. Fear drove me away. I lost control with her. So willing. So receptive. Midge makes me lose my mind, and do stupid shit, like come inside of her. She could get pregnant. I run a hand down my face, shivering with the thought.

Would it really be so bad? I second guess.

Yes, I decide. Midge doesn’t need this right now and neither do I.

Then, when I remember the way she looked up at me, begging me to stay, eyes pained when I didn’t. She crushes me, when I’ve done this to myself.

The next morning, I find coffee brewing in a clean coffeemaker, the windows washed, and piles of papers stacked neatly behind the waiting room desk when I enter work.

“What the hell?” I snap as I see Midge sitting at Brut’s desk, him leaning over her, directing her to something on the computer screen. I don’t handle any invoicing. I just do what I’m told to do and enter it in the main computer inside the garage. I have no understanding of running this business, mainly because I never wanted to know. I didn’t want to work here—ever—and then when I no longer had a choice, I only wanted to rebuild cars, like I was rebuilding myself. But seeing Brut all business like, angling over Midge, sets my blood boiling.

“Good morning,” Midge says quietly, returning her gaze to the computer. Brut nods in greeting and continues to direct our new office manager.

“Can I speak with you a moment?” I ask of Midge, but Brut peers up at me.

“No,” he says.

“Excuse me?” I growl at my older brother. I love him, but I’ll think nothing of crossing his desk and taking him out.

“You’re not doing this again.” His eyes drift to Midge and back to me. “No.”