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“That’s why it’s funny,” I reply and take a sip of my beer.
As the sun sets, I realize that Bess is more relaxed right now than I’ve seen her in years. She sets her camera to the side and looks for an empty chair. I’m sitting in a chaise lounge, so I move my feet. “Come sit with me,” I say quietly.
“Are you sure?” she asks hesitantly. All the other adults around the fire get quiet. No one says a word.
I grab her hand and pull her toward me, spread my knees and make room for her, and she settles down awkwardly in the space. “Maybe I should—” she begins. But I grab her and jerk her up higher, so she’s almost on my lap. I lift one knee to the side so that she has enough room, and I guide her until she settles with her back against my chest. “I’m squishing you. Are you sure…” But then she goes quiet.
“Don’t ask dumb questions, kiddo,” Mr. Jacobson says, his voice quiet but firm amidst the crackling of the fire.
“Yes, sir,” she replies. She roots around until she finds the most comfortable spot to lie in, which is on her side with her head under my chin, her face almost on my chest. “Is this okay?” she asks so that only I can hear her.
“Don’t ask dumb questions, kiddo,” I say, mocking the gruffness of Mr. Jacobson’s voice.
Mr. Jacobson chuckles but says nothing. Bess settles more deeply against me, and I feel it all the way in my soul. She wiggles, and then freezes when she realizes my dick is getting hard against her hip.
“Sorry,” I whisper in her ear. Then I kiss the shell of her ear really quickly.
“I like it,” she whispers back, and then she kisses my chin. I can feel the quirk of her grin against my skin.
“Is that so?” I ask quietly, my voice more of a rumble.
“Mm-hmm.”
Mr. Jacobson plucks a half-burnt marshmallow from his stick and throws it in our direction. It bounces off my forehead, and Jake catches it on the rebound and tosses it into his mouth. “Five second rule,” he says around the big ball of goo.
Bess reaches up with her thumb to wipe the smear from the marshmallow on my forehead. As she brings her hand down, I grab it and bring it to my mouth, licking the slight sweetness from the pad of her thumb. She sucks in a breath and her hip moves against my dick.
“Be still,” I whisper in warning. But I touch the tip of her chin so that she lifts her face just a little, and I kiss her. She tastes sweet, like jelly and toasted bread, and I fight not to deepen the kiss.
“Anybody want to hear a story?” Mr. Jacobson asks the group.
“Yes, please,” the kids sing in chorus, and I can tell this is something he does with his grandkids a lot. Even Gabby is paying attention.
“Well, once upon a time…” His voice drones on and on, but I don’t hear any of it. Instead, I concentrate on the fact that Bess is in my lap, that she’s open and eager and she’s picking up everything I’ve put down. She’s not turning me away. And that’s a damn good feeling.
“You want to go home?” she asks me quietly. And I know what she means. Do you want to go home and have sex? Do you want to ease that ache inside me? Do you want to make love to me?
“Not yet.” I don’t want to ruin this. And I also don’t want to move too fast, because I want this to last.
Aaron catches my eye from the other side of the fire and gives me an exaggerated wink. I ignore him and take a sip of my beer. Bess takes it from me and takes a sip of it too, her lips where mine just were. She puts it back in my hand, and I know I am a goner.
There’s nothing wrong with being in love with my wife, is there?
34
Bess
I get so comfortable lying in Eli’s lap that I almost fall asleep. We listen as Mr. Jacobson tells stories to the kids. Many of them were ones we heard when we were younger, and we pay attention as raptly as the kids do, for nostalgia’s sake. Nights spent around the fire pit were some of the best summer nights I ever experienced as a child, and tonight is no different.
My shins are so hot they start to itch, but I don’t move. I’m too comfortable. I remember many years ago, Eli and I used to snuggle like this all the time. But through the years, I’ve allowed, and pushed for, more and more separation between us, and for that I am truly sorry. I gave up so much time when I could have been doing this.
Eli’s fingertips trail slowly up and down the outside of my arm, tickling from the bend of my shoulder to the ridge of my elbow and back up again. I squirm and he makes a noise from beneath me. “You okay?” I ask. I shift a bit, in case my weight is making him uncomfortable.
“I’m fine,” he says, and his fingers make that lazy trail up my arm again. It’s more of a graze than a rub, and it feels better that I remember it feeling. Eli has always had a way of making me feel desire but right now I feel downright needy. His hand curls and the tips of his fingers brush the inside of my arm rather than the outside. His knuckle skims the edge of my nipple, and I let out a whimper. His hand freezes. “You okay?” he asks, using the same words I just asked him.
“I’m fine.” I turn and kiss his chin. He dips his head and his lips touch mine, a fleeting glance and nothing more. He lays his head back against the chair webbing and stares at the fire.
His hand starts that slow slide again, and I arch my back, pushing my breasts toward his fingers. He makes a low noise from deep in his throat, but he doesn’t deviate from the slow slide up and down my arm. His knuckle doesn’t go anywhere near my nipple, and I stop squirming and stop reaching for it because I realize he’s right. This is not the time.
