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As they crawled under the covers, carefully keeping some clothes on—she wore her yoga pants, he kept his underwear on—she fervently hoped that some other things never would either. She hoped they could always trust each other enough to cuddle together without thinking about sex. She hoped it would always feel this natural and safe with him. She hoped he’d always smell like soap and grass stains. She hoped they would always be there for each other, whether married or divorced.
For a while, she slept more deeply than she had in months. Nothing kept her awake—not worries about the storm, or her deadline, or Bean’s next accident, or Zack’s attention span. She didn’t even dream. Usually she had vivid and elaborate dreams that she could barely explain the next morning.
Sometime in the middle of the night, she swam out of sleep into the soft darkness and noticed a hand on her breast. Billy was still asleep; she could hear his low snuffle-snores. He’d turned on his side to face her, and wound up with his arm on top of her. She lay on her back, her left leg flung over his.
The weight of his hand was…arousing. He wasn’t doing anything, but then again, he didn’t have to. The warmth of his flesh penetrated through her ribbed baby T to her skin. She felt it in her nipple. It was rising, tingling. Hardening. A maddening sensation that made a pool of heat spread through her.
She should wake him up. No, she should just lift his arm off her body without disturbing him. But she didn’t want it off. She liked it right where it was.
Her heart pounded. Maybe that would wake him, just the beat of her heart. What would he do once he saw where his arm was? He’d probably snatch it away. He’d be afraid that he’d crossed a line.
His hand on her breast definitely broke a rule. But only if she didn’t want it. And now that it was there, so many forgotten sensations came flooding back.
The first time he touched her nipples, his hands trembled and shook. Trying so hard to be cool. It was summer, and she was wearing a bikini so they could swim to the little cove where an owl hooted at night.
He slid the straps off her shoulders and lifted her breasts to his mouth. The wild pleasure made her shake against him. Eager to make him feel the way she did, she touched his thick penis through his swim shorts. He took her hand inside to touch his bare skin. She was panting so hard she thought her chest would explode. Still mostly underwater, he came into her hand, and then was so embarrassed he turned red.
“It’s okay,” she kept telling him. “I don’t mind.”
God, they were so young. But even then, he tried to do right by her. He found the slick place between her legs, found the spot that made her gasp. But it didn’t work; she couldn’t achieve an orgasm in that cove where people swam all the time. She hadn’t known her own body well enough. But he found a way and used his big strong hand to work his magic.
After that, he made it his mission to bring her to a climax. And boy, had he. The back of the Sentra. The loft of the barn at her house. His brother Thomas’ house when no one was around, including his kid Danny. Then there was the meadow out past the creek. A canoe that one crazy time when they paddled out to see the Northern Lights. God, they were so wild for each other.
Teenagers.
Teenagers in love. The one thing she’d never doubted was that she and Billy had been desperately in love with each other.
She shifted her legs away from his. Her nipple was still tingling with a heat that made her pussy clench. Maybe she could just scissor her legs together to relieve the tension building down there. A little secret masturbation. Billy would never know. She had to do something. It was driving her crazy, that warm weight bearing down on her.
A soft snore drifted from Billy’s mouth. Still asleep. Good.
She snuck her right hand under the waistband of her yoga pants and into the warm slick place between her legs. This was what her sex life generally looked like these days, after all. Except for the man on top of her. She didn’t usually have that anymore, which was no doubt why she was so heated by nothing more than a hand on her breast.
Biting her lip, she slid her fingers across her clit. Oh God, she needed this. Being with Billy was like…well, like having a hand on her breast all night long. Constant low-grade arousal verging on flat-out lust.
Billy shifted and she snatched her hand away from her sex. What was she thinking? Jesus, what if he woke up and caught her mid-orgasm? How would she explain that? Yes, Billy, you still turn me on so much that I need to come just from lying next to you. Yup, that’s how sex-starved I am.
Billy’s hand twisted against her breast. She scrunched up her face, waiting for his next move, then decided she couldn’t take it anymore. That hand was the problem. That rough-skinned, skillful, magical hand that knew her body better than anyone else in the world. She had to evict it off her chest.
Carefully, she lifted his hand away from her and moved it to the bed instead. Unfortunately, the rest of him shifted too, and now the entire front of his body pressed against her. Was that his…oh yes, he too was getting aroused. A midnight hard-on. She remembered those well. They used to turn to each other in the middle of the night and make love half-asleep, their bodies moving together like waves against a beach.
She held her breath. The entire left side of her body tingled in awareness. There was no chance of going back to sleep now. She was too conscious of his every breath, the sleepy scent of his skin, and that hardening member next to her leg.
Something had to be done.
She rolled away from him, toward the edge of the bed. There was a whole bedroom set aside for her, she should use it. Indulging herself in a snuggle with her ex had been stupid.
“What? What’s wrong? The kids?” Groggy, he pushed himself into a half-sitting position.
“The kids are fine. Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”
“Where are you going?”
“My own room. I can’t sleep.” Irritation coursed through her. She knew it wasn’t him, just general sexual frustration.
“Come back.” He snagged her arm and rolled her back toward him, so they were face to face. “Don’t leave. You’re so cozy.”
“Well, you’re not cozy. You’re…pokey.”
