by Claire Adams
I frowned, hating that she was practically asking me to leave already. Was that how it would be between us? I showed that I was worried about her, and she pushed me away? I hated the thought of that. I didn't know how to proceed with her, how to get her to see reason. And now, I had a feeling that the next time I saw Eric, we weren't going to be talking about my mother's health, either. I frowned, wondering if I had burned a very critical bridge by going out with Eric on Wednesday night.
For now, I'd have to accept that that's the way things were. I nodded at Mom. “Have a good day,” I told her, grabbing the money that she'd indicated.
“You too,” Mom said.
I paused by the back door, listening to her whistle one of her favorite songs. If I could only figure out how to get through to her!
I shook my head and headed back into the Illinois heat.
Chapter Thirteen
Eric
It had been almost a week since our first date, and although I didn't want to say that I was missing Olivia, I kind of was. I had seen her the previous day when I'd dropped off Emma for daycare and again when I'd picked her up. And I'd seen her that morning as well. But I wanted more than those two-minute interactions with Emma there in the background. I didn't know how to approach the subject, though.
On Tuesday evening, when I stopped by to pick up Emma, no one answered my knock on the front door of the house. If I listened carefully, I realized I could hear Emma's excited laughter coming from the backyard, and I smiled to myself, making my way around the house. Sure enough, there were the two of them, playing with a bubble machine.
As I watched, Emma squealed and chased after some of the escaping bubbles, popping as many as she could. Her grin was a mile wide, and Olivia looked amused as well, a cute little smile on her face.
I couldn't take it anymore, I decided. I marched straight up to her and caught her arm, pulling her around the house, where Emma wouldn't see. “What are you—” Olivia began breathlessly, but I cut her off with a kiss.
The kiss was positively filthy, full of pent-up desire and nervousness. Our lips were hot where they pressed against one another's, and when I nibbled at Olivia's lower lip, she moaned shamelessly and opened her mouth to me. I wasted no time in delving my tongue inside, eliciting sweet little whimpers as I found the tender spots.
When we broke apart, Olivia had a glazed look in her eyes. “Hi,” she whispered breathlessly.
“Hi,” I echoed, pulling her into my arms, my hand cradling the back of her head. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want to go to dinner with you tonight,” I told her, staring seriously down into her eyes. “That is, if you're free.”
Olivia stared up at me for a moment, a question in her eyes, but then she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Harlan's still here; his mom is picking him up late today. But I should be free in an hour or so?”
“Sounds good,” I said.
“Let's go back to the Italian place,” Olivia suggested. “I already know where it is so I can drive myself there. That way, you don't have to drive all the way back over here to pick me up.”
“The town isn't that big,” I protested, but the added benefit of not picking her up, I realized, was that none of the neighbors would see me swing by, pick up Emma, leave, and then return to pick up Olivia for our date. “I'll see you there. Around 6:30?”
“That's perfect,” Olivia breathed. She bit her lower lip uncertainly, glancing back toward where Emma's giggles could still be heard. “We should get back,” she sighed.
“I know,” I groaned, unable to resist the urge to pull her hips against mine for a moment. I was already hard and wanting, and it was going to be hell getting through the whole night sat across from her. But there wasn't anything I could do about that; it wasn't as though I could take her right then and there.
Finally, I had to release her. “Later,” Olivia said.
I nodded my head in agreement and went to convince Emma that playtime was over for the day at the daycare, but that it was time to drive over to Nana's house.
I was the first one to the restaurant, and I waited impatiently in a secluded booth at the back for Olivia to show up. When she finally did, she looked positively radiant in a soft, red cotton dress and black heels, with her hair cascading down her back.
To my surprise, she slid into the same side of the booth as me. “This way, we can share our plates,” she said. Then, she looked sheepish. “If that's okay with you, that is.”
“That's fine,” I said faintly. I actually kind of liked it, having her there beside me, our legs pressed against one another's.
As we enjoyed our meal, stealing little bites off one another's plates, I placed my hand on Olivia's thigh. “So you've been living in Chicago?” I asked, trying to be nonchalant.
“Yeah,” Olivia said. She frowned. “I really moved back because of Mom. Because of the cancer. I knew that things had to be more severe than she was letting on.”
“Any luck talking to her about that?” I asked, even though I didn't want to mix business with pleasure. I hoped Olivia didn't think that the only reason I'd asked her to come to dinner with me that night was that I wanted to talk further about her mother's health situation.
But from the way I could feel her shifting her hips needfully at the way my hand was resting on her thigh, I could tell that she was turned on and thinking more about sex than medicine.
“I tried to talk to her about it, but she says it's a closed topic of conversation,” Olivia sighed. “I honestly don't know how to proceed from here. Maybe it would be better if you talked to her.”
“You're her daughter,” I reminded her. “I'm sure you'll figure something out. For all my talk of things needing to happen right away, you do have a little time to figure things out.” It was a lie, but I didn't want her to get stressed out and start crying again. I wanted her to enjoy this just as much as I was.
Fortunately, Olivia seemed keen to drop that topic of conversation. “I'm happy to be in Tamlin, though,” she said. “I didn't realize how stressed out I'd gotten, working in Chicago. Things just move so fast-paced there. I've lived there for most of my life, but it just started to get a little overwhelming. I can see why Mom was so happy to move back here.”
“Move back here?” I asked.
“She was born here, and she lived here for part of her childhood,” Olivia told me. “That's why she knows nearly everyone in town already. But it's been a while since she was back.”
“What about your dad?” I knew I shouldn't pry, but I was curious.
Olivia shrugged. “It's been just Mom and I, for as long as I can remember,” she said.
“Single parenthood,” I commented, nodding my head. “I know a thing or two about that.”
Olivia smiled and put a hand on my thigh as well, and it was only then, when she did that, that I realized my hand had been creeping dangerously high on her own leg. I blushed a little and started to retract my hand, but then I checked myself. She didn't appear to mind: if she had minded, I had a feeling she would have been very upfront with me. Instead, she almost seemed to be making this into a challenge.
I smiled to myself and dragged the pads of my fingers along her smooth flesh for a moment, hearing her breath hitch in response.
She forged gamely ahead. “So what do you do, anyway?” she asked. “When you're not off being a doctor or a dad, or dragging poor, unassuming women off to terrible performing arts shows.”
I laughed. “Hobbies,” I said. I grimaced. “To be honest, I don't know that I've had many hobbies since Emma was born. It feels like every spare moment I have has been with her. At least, until I'm utterly exhausted, but by then, she's usually in bed, and it's nighttime, and all I have the energy to do is put on a movie and fall asleep.”
“What kinds of movies do you like?” Olivia pressed.
“Don't laugh, but I kind of like cheesy romances,” I admitted. “And classics, I love a good black and white film. Anything that doesn't require me
to focus on it.”
Olivia hummed an agreement. “Those kinds of movies are the best,” she said. She paused. “Maybe we should go out to the movies sometime. I haven't been in ages; it's so expensive in Chicago. But Mom said the theater here does decent matinees.”
“They do,” I agreed, nodding at her. She shivered as I slid my hand higher.
“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked breathlessly.
I raised an eyebrow at her, but it wasn't as though I could hide how turned on I was. Especially not as her hand crept higher against my inseam, grazing against my member. My eyes fell shut for a moment, as I concentrated on just breathing.
“Are you all right?” Olivia asked innocently, and I opened my eyes to give her an unimpressed look. She giggled in response, entirely unrepentant.
“I swear, next time we have sex, I'm going to tease you mercilessly until you're practically crying for it, just to see how you like it,” I growled in a low voice, watching as her eyes grew dark.
“Oh yeah?” she asked. “You started it.”
“I don't care,” I said.
Olivia grinned and leaned in for a quick kiss. “To be honest,” she said as we broke apart, “after you avoided me last time, I didn't think you were even considering having sex with me again.”
“For the last time, I wasn't avoiding you,” I said, even though I still felt guilty about that. But I had a way to make it up to her. I was pretty sure. “You know, I know this motel that's not far from here. What do you say we get a doggy bag for the rest of the food and head over there?”
Olivia's mouth dropped open, and I could tell she was into the idea. “We're both adults,” she reminded me, though. “Why not just go home? Unless that's some sort of fetish for you, anonymous motel sex.”
I burst out laughing, unable to help it. “No!” I said, pulling her into a quick hug. “But last time we had sex, some of the neighbors noticed my car in your driveway late at night. As much as I like what we're doing, I'm not ready for the whole town to be in on our business just yet, if that's okay with you. If we go to a motel, we can keep things under wraps for a little while longer.”
Olivia pulled away from me. “Wow, that makes me feel really good about this,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “You don't want the town to know that you're interested in someone like me?”
“That's not it at all,” I said earnestly, twisting my fingers in hers. “But I'm a widower, Olivia, and my mother-in-law, not to mention my young daughter, both live in Tamlin. As well as your mother, and Ernie the gossip, and a bunch of other people. I'm just not ready to open that can of worms yet.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Olivia admitted.
“It's not forever,” I assured her. “Just for now, until we've settled into whatever it is that we're doing with one another.”
“All right,” Olivia said at last, shaking her head. “So where is this motel?”
Chapter Fourteen
Olivia
When we got to the motel, Eric wasted no time in pushing me back against the door, his mouth hot against mine. The kiss was rough; he wasn't playing around this time. I could feel his erection grinding insistently against my hip, and I smiled, pleased that I could have him so worked up, so soon.
He sucked in a breath as I trailed my fingers up his chest. I undid the top couple buttons on his shirt and pulled it messily over his head. We continued to make out for another couple minutes, as I scratched my fingernails lightly up his chest. For his part, he seemed content to let me do whatever I wanted for the time being, and it was a heady feeling, being in control of his pleasure. I remembered how well he had played me the previous time, and I figured it must be my turn.
After a moment, he pulled back, looking as though he was going to ask something. But before he could get the words out, I smiled demurely at him and dropped to my knees on the carpet.
“Jesus, Olivia,” he said, his voice hoarse and shocked.
“Is this okay?” I asked, pausing as I started to undo the button on his slacks.
He stared at me uncomprehendingly and then gave a strangled laugh. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it's okay.”
I grinned and slowly unbuttoned his slacks, pulling down both them and his boxer briefs. Then, I slowly licked my lips, still looking up at him past the hard length of his cock. I leaned forward and licked experimentally at his tip, reveling in the soft groan that fell from the man's lips.
I dragged my tongue up the underside of his cock and lapped at the precum already collecting at the tip, tonguing the opening and smiling to myself as Eric's head fell back against the door with an audible thunk. Finally, deciding that I had teased him enough, I slid his full length into my mouth, going inch by inch. I was surprised at his patience: I could feel his thigh muscles quivering under my fingers, and I could tell how taxing it was for him to try to hold back and not thrust impatiently into my mouth.
Eric gently stroked my hair, not pushing but just resting there. His breathing was harsh, and it quickened further as I wrapped my fingers around his base, stroking in time with the movements of my mouth. I increased the pressure, sucking hard and squeezing with my hand, and he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
“Wait,” he suddenly said, catching my shoulder. He let out a long, noisy breath, shaking his head a little. “That feels incredible, but I'm not going to last if you keep going. And what I'd really like is to make love to you again.”
I blushed, giving him a pleased, shy smile. I got slowly to my feet, biting my lower lip and looking up at him through my eyelashes as I slowly began to strip off my clothing. I left nothing on; I was naked as I made my way over to the bed. Eric rushed to catch up, leaving his own clothing in a messy pile on the floor even though such neglect would probably leave awful creases in his shirt.
He didn't seem to care, though, as he joined me on the bed, bringing a hand up to gently cup my cheek. He brushed back my hair, stroking the soft skin of my cheekbone with the rough pad of his thumb. “God, you're beautiful,” he breathed, leaning in to kiss me again. I shivered in anticipation, my legs falling open to him, inviting him in.
Eric's eyes went dark with lust, and his fingers dipped experimentally into the space between my legs. He growled, feeling how wet I already was. It didn't take much foreplay for me to be ready for him. He was still hard from my earlier ministrations as well, his cock arching between us, dark with need.
But then he paused, just staring down at me for a long moment, as though trying to memorize every detail of my body. “Eric,” I whined.
He grinned and shook himself, giving me an apologetic look. He suddenly reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into a rough, half-desperate kiss. It was heated and messy, his tongue slipping over mine and his teeth nipping at my lips. Slowly, though, he gentled the kiss, his lips moving tenderly against mine.
I heard the sound of a foil packet opening, and I pulled back so I could watch as he pulled a condom down his member. He bent my legs up and kissed the inside of one knee, making me squirm again against the sheets, needing more contact, needing something else. Eric hummed an acknowledgment and thrust into me all in one go, impaling me on his length.
I let out a whimpered moan, my hands creeping up against the headboard, using it as leverage so that I could push back against his thrusts, driving him ever deeper inside of me. His talented fingers continued to play across my skin, aimless patterns leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Every soft graze of his fingers against the soft skin of my nipples had me mewling and arching against him, the stimulation almost too much.
He leaned in for another scorching kiss, and that, coupled with his quick thrusts, was my undoing. I broke away with a gasp, turning my head to the side and squeezing my eyes shut, my entrance contracting with waves of blinding, sensational pleasure. I could feel Eric spilling inside of me as well, coming in perfect unison with me, collapsing around me on the bed.
We both just lay there for a moment, panting with
the aftershocks. Finally, Eric rolled to the side. But he didn't go far. He lay there, turned on his side to face me, continuing to caress my skin, sending little prickles of pleasure through the hazy aftermath of my orgasm.
But he wasn't done with me yet. Instead, Eric got a devilish smirk on his face and slid his hand lower, sliding his fingers back into the warm, slick area of my crease and playing across the overstimulated nerves there. My breathing caught in my throat, and I was almost tempted to stop him, as I balanced on the edge of pleasure and too much, but ultimately, I allowed him to continue brushing his fingers across my skin in those talented, tantalizing strokes.
In an embarrassingly short while, I was coming again, practically sobbing with a much-needed release. As I finally dragged myself back to reality, it was to Eric smiling over at me, and I couldn't help but smile back at him.
Then, his expression turned serious.
“I'm enjoying our time together,” he told me.
“I'm sensing that there's a 'but,'” I said, wishing that he could have at least waited until we had clothes on before starting this conversation.
Sure, I knew that we needed to talk. About what we were doing, where we were going. About if this was going to keep happening, and where it was going to keep happening if it was. We couldn't keep sneaking around in motel rooms like wayward teenagers, but if we didn't want to raise the suspicions of everyone in town, this was the best way to ensure our privacy.
“But,” Eric agreed, nodding his head. He rolled away and looked up at the ceiling, folding his arms behind his head and looking deceptively casual. Still, I could see the tension in his form, and I frowned, wishing I could help him just relax. “I'm enjoying our time together, but I'm worried about how a relationship between us might affect both of our lives.”
I frowned, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. “Well, I'm not saying that we have to run around alerting everyone in town that we're sleeping together,” I said.