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The room fills with tiny grunts, heavy breaths, and the rhythmic slapping of skin. I roll us so Serena’s beneath me.
As I move inside her, my face hovering just above hers, she grins. It’s the “what are we doing?” grin. I return the same grin, but I also feel a tiny stab in my chest. It’s something new. I want to slow my pace because this unfamiliar feeling is one I kinda like. One I don’t want to end. One I feel the need to explore.
When that feeling starts to distract me from the task at hand, I kiss her lips, her neck, her breasts. I close my eyes and think back to the last time I felt this way.
That’s easy… never.
She arches her back and stills, gripping me with her hands and her legs. I come so fucking hard I can’t hold my head up, so I drop it next to hers, my lips at her ear.
“Damn. Just … damn.” A slight shiver shakes me.
Her giggle spreads along my sweaty skin like she’s touching me everywhere at once. “Damn indeed, Henry Bechtel.”
I should move. Remove myself from her. Face that awkward moment of deflated passion. We can’t cuddle. That requires something more than jacked-up hormones on a snowy day.
But … Serena’s fingers feather along my back, and her legs remain firmly wrapped around me. I feel the pulsing of her heart next to mine. And I wonder if I’m the first man she’s been with since her husband died.
Should I say something?
It was just sex. I think.
My lack of relationship experience is really messing with me right now. There’s a low probability that my next move will be the right one. I definitely wouldn’t bet on myself right now.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
You’re welcome?
My pleasure?
Sure thing?
Anytime?
All terrible answers.
I lift my head, searching her eyes for the right one.
Nope. I don’t have it.
I go for a tiny nod and a sincere smile, hoping less is more.
In the next breath, I step into my pants while Serena fishes her arms into her sweater.
“I’m uh…” I poke my head through my shirt “…I’m going to clear your driveway in case you need out. Then I’m going to help my mom with dinner. Then—”
Before I can list off the rest of my plans for the day, Serena lifts onto her toes and kisses me, ending with a smile before leaving my lips. “I’ll see you at dinner. I need to write.” She wraps the blanket from the sofa around her waist and disappears down the stairs.
I follow her, but I continue on to the main level when she disappears into the bathroom.
“Everything okay?” Mom asks while browning ground beef in a pan. The woman is always in the kitchen.
I run my hands through my hair and make sure my fly is zipped. “What do you mean?”
“I went upstairs to freshen up before making dinner and I…” she grins, redirecting her gaze to the pan “…heard something in the attic. Everything up there creaks with the slightest movement. I heard a lot of creaking.”
Nope. We are not having this conversation. Not ever.
I grab a glass of water. “I’m going to clear the snow from the driveway.”
