Page 30 of Living at 40

“I . . . you . . .” I can’t find the words as she embraces me in her body, and I slide through liquid heat. Dropping one hand forward to balance myself near her hip, I keep her lower body raised to my thighs and thrust. She yelps, and I glance up at her face. Her head has fallen back to the bed.

“Take what you need from me. Don’t be gentle.”

“Autumn,” I groan as my hips flex and my pelvis moves. I rock into her on repeat, surging with sharp, short jabs as her channel rubs my shaft, and the friction heats everything. Too quickly, my lower back tightens. My balls seize, and I thrust forward, holding myself deep inside her. My dick jolts and jets a fountain of relief. Aftershocks follow, forcing every drop from me, but I don’t move. I don’t want to waste a single drip, and I remain over her with her hips tipped upward and my dick filling her.

I look up at her to find a tear slipping from the corner of one eye.

“Did I hurt you?” I push upward by the hand balancing me, but she’s quick to slap her hands to my shoulder blades, holding me over her.

“I’m not hurt.” Her voice croaks, and she swallows as another tear slips free. “I know it couldn’t possibly work this quickly. Like the first time would be a miracle, right? But something inside me feels different already.”

Chewing at my lip, I fight all the things that come to mind like maybe this means more than just a mission. Maybe this could be more than a means to an end. Maybe she could want more from me, but I keep all those extra thoughts to myself.

“Tell me when you want me to move,” I remind her as another tear falls. This one is larger, and I can’t help leaning forward to swipe at the drip rolling to her hairline.

“Autumn, look at me.” She’s been staring up at the ceiling, but her liquid-filled eyes latch onto mine. “We have eleven more days, and we’ll do this again and again until we’re certain it sticks, okay? We’ll do it extra times just for good measure, and once more for good luck.”

She slowly smiles before giggling a little. The jostling of her body jiggles me inside her, but I’m softening. I’m not as young as I used to be, and I’ll need a little recovery time before we can go for round two. Will she want round two?

As her hands slip from my shoulder blades, I lean forward to kiss her, not wanting our connection to end but sensing the finish line. Will she want me to leave?

“Let me get you something to clean up.” I slip free from her and instantly miss her body. As the house is older, she has a powder room, not a full bathroom in this bedroom, but I find a washcloth in a basket and soak it with warm water. Returning to her, I wipe her up and toss the cloth back to the sink like I’m shooting for a basket from half-court. The slap of wet cloth against the porcelain tells me I made the shot, and I feel like a king. I just had sex with a beautiful woman who begged me to come inside her, and all I have to do is hope my seed plants. Turning back to Autumn, she’s pulled the sheet to her chest, holding it over her covered breasts and staring up at me.

“I’m not leaving.” I’ll fight her on this, but after the intense experience we just shared and the silent hope between us that it worked for her, I’m not walking out of this room. She nods, and I send up a quiet prayer of gratitude as I curl into bed beside her. We face one another, and I brush back her hair, staring into her deep, sated eyes. “Close your eyes, baby. Sleep.”

She nods again without a word. After leaning forward for one more kiss, I watch her lips remaining puckered when I pull back and whisper to her, “Sweet dreams.”

+ + +

“What’s all this?” As I look up from my position by the kitchen counter, seeing Autumn takes my breath away. I wanted to stay in her bed a little longer, but as she mentioned last night, she doesn’t want anyone to know about us and what we were doing because they’d already know the reason. So, I snuck out before dawn and crashed in my own bed for a few hours. However, I promised Lorna I’d make pancakes this morning. It’s been great hanging with the guys and letting Lorna have her time with Mila, but we needed to check in about the ice cream meal and her comment on eating salads.

Talking weight with a pre-teen girl is a tricky subject. I don’t want to belabor her size as I view her as healthy and wise to weight issues, and I don’t have concerns. The doctor assures us she’s in a normal range, just on the high end of it for her height and age. I’d be more concerned if she wasn’t athletic and only sat around playing video games, but she doesn’t. She plays soccer and used to dance ballet. We live in a small community, and that means the competition is minimal for sports at her age.

Autumn steps closer to me, and I turn to give her a smile. Her eyes are bright this morning, and I peek over my shoulder to see who is close enough to hear me.

“Sleep okay last night?” Her eyes lower as she turns for the coffee maker and pours herself a cup.

“It was okay,” she teases, chewing her lip as she looks up at me over the rim of her mug.

“Just okay?” I glance over my shoulder once more. “Need to work on that tonight then.”

Her smile grows before she takes a sip of the morning goodness. As she lowers the mug, I take one more check over my shoulder before leaning forward for a quick kiss to her cheek. I want it to be more. I want her lips on mine and my arms around her, but we have little eyes nearby and ears that can miraculously hear well when they want to versus when asked to unload a dishwasher or do their homework.

“I need to get to work.”

“You work too much,” I state, instantly regretting how possessive it sounds. It’s exciting that she runs her own business. I’d always dreamed of owning my own architectural firm, but the place I work pays well, with benefits, and allows me the flexibility I need to be with Lorna. Without being married and having Lorna only half the time in a week, work is all I have, so I know if I had my own business, I’d overwork and forget to take time for the fun stuff.

“I can’t help it,” she says. “It’s the center of my life.”

A baby is going to change all that for her. Her child will become the axis of her world, and every decision she makes will revolve around her kid. Parenting is a tough job to do alone, and I’m fortunate Chloe and I are amicable about Lorna, although some days it’s rough being a one-parent show.

“Don’t you have any days off?” I’m curious because I’d like to make plans with her, maybe steal her away for a day, and give us more alone time. For baby-making purposes, of course.

“I promised I’d take time off around the weekends. Saturdays and Sundays are our busiest days, so I can’t skip them, but I have Thursday and Friday, and then Monday and Tuesday next week.”

“Keep a day for me,” I say, glancing over my shoulder once more.

She chews at her lower lip, and I immediately recall kissing her there, sucking at that tender curve and melting into her lips. “We don’t need to date,” she whispers, her eyes shifting to the island where the girls are chattering to one another while waiting on more pancakes.