by Betsy Anne
“Like that do you?” He’s laughing at me, and I don’t care.
I rinse, add some conditioner, and finish up. I return the favor, and wash his beautiful body. I wash his dark-blond hair that just touches the tops of his ears. His gorgeous teal colored eyes are glistening with water, and they don’t leave my hands. He’s watching every move I make. Washing his body is like trying to wash a statue; he’s hard as stone. Maybe that’s why his lips seem extra soft, because it’s the only part of his body that is. Even his cock is rock hard. It’s a very impressive sight. I lather up my hands and take care to make sure it gets extra clean. He’s trying so hard to relax, but his cock has other ideas and continues to grow in my hands. I reach under and wash his balls, while giving them a little tug. He shutters and pulls away, so he can stand under the water stream and rinse.
“Whoa, that’s a little too good. If you’re not careful, I may never let you leave this shower. I’m hungry, and I owe you a real meal. Now that I think about it, don’t you owe me one?”
Oh right, from the cocktail party. I promised him I’d take him out to make up for being such a bitch.
“Absolutely. I could stay in here with you all night, but I might get a little pruny. I’m starved too. Let’s throw some on clothes, and I’ll cook for you. Sound OK?”
“Are you kidding me? I don’t remember when someone cooked for me other than my mom. Well, unless you count my buddies at the Chinese place. I’d really appreciate it, Melanie. It would mean a lot to me.”
Cooking for someone who will appreciate it is a pretty new thing for me too.
“You finish up in here, and I’ll meet you downstairs, OK?”
I grab a towel from the rack, and step out of the shower. He drops his head and lets the water stream down his body. Lucky water. His erection isn’t going down, ugh. I just want to stand here and stare at him. He peeks one eye out sideways from under the water, and smiles.
“If you wait one more second to leave, I’m going to drag you back in here.”
As appealing as that is, I know he’s hungry and I am too. I rush out of the bathroom, taking the dirty laundry with me. He doesn’t need to stare at my underwear on the floor. I throw on some yoga pants, and I grab his sweatshirt from the floor. I can’t help but put it on. It’s so big, and it smells like him. He’ll just have to come to dinner without a shirt.
I whip up some pasta that I toss with fresh basil, tomatoes, olive oil and cheese. Simple, but satisfying. I pour us two glasses of cabernet, and I wait. Dinner didn’t take that long, and I guess he’s taking his time getting dressed. Oh yeah, he’s probably looking for a shirt. I go upstairs to see what’s keeping him. I see the light on in John’s room, the same place I saw him the very first time, and I notice he’s looking at the shelves again. He seems lost in thought when I walk in.
“Hi there, I was worried you got lost, and I was right. See anything familiar?”
He’s holding the Georgia football program from his senior year. He’s staring at a page intently.
“Can I see? I’d love to see the younger you.”
I see the small photo of him on the page with all the seniors. He looks angry. I don’t think I would even recognize him if his name weren’t directly below the picture.
“I don’t look very happy, do I. That’s an angry kid right there. I was pissed at the world, and didn’t give a shit about anything or anybody other than my mom. I’m a little ashamed at how I behaved back then. I used women, then pushed them away when they tried to get close.”
He closes the book, and places it back in its spot. He looks down at his feet like a little boy who’s getting into trouble.
“Please know I would never treat you that way. I’ve learned a lot over the years, and I’m not that same angry kid. I think the only thing that would get my temper up is if anyone messed with you or your boys. Other than that, I just can’t allow myself to be that way anymore.”
I take his hand and lead him out of the room. We walk hand in hand quietly down the stairs to the kitchen. His head pops up when we get close.
“Wow! What’s that smell? It’s amazing!”
He drops my hand and sprints over to the island. He sees the big pasta bowl and he smiles.
“I hope you made yourself a sandwich babe, this is all mine.”
* * *
Two bottles of wine, and all the pasta later, we’re cuddled up on the couch in front of the fire he made. He wasn’t kidding. He ate almost all of it himself. He looked so happy eating fresh food someone made for him, it made me a little sad. He must have been so lonely these last few years. Who would ever guess that this ridiculously hot NFL player would ever be so lonely? I’m sure there would be a line of girls a mile long willing to ease his pain. I get a small pang of jealousy mixed with insecurity. What if I get photographed with him like other players wives and girlfriends? I’ve seen the nasty comments people make when they don’t measure up to the perceived “standard” of a trophy wife. It makes my stomach flip.
“Penny for your thoughts. You look upset about something. Are you still hungry? I warned you I was going to eat it all unapologetically. It was too good; you’re an amazing cook. Seriously, what’s wrong?”
He grabs my hands, and turns me to face him. I’m a little shocked he could pick up on the fact that I was thinking something negative. I better be careful how I word this.
“Well, I was just thinking. What are the other players girlfriends like? Are they nice?”
He looks at me like I’ve just asked him to fly to the moon.
“What? I really don’t know. I don’t socialize with them very much. A few of the wives I’ve met are nice, some aren’t. Some are only in it for the money, it’s obvious and sad. Why are you thinking about that?”
“I just get a little intimidated sometimes. I don’t exactly measure up to the typical trophy girlfriend. I’m a middle-aged mom, with the body to match.”
I see a flash of the face from the photo. Shit. I should have known better than to say anything like that. Why the hell can’t I shut my pie-hole sometimes! He abruptly stands and walks back to the kitchen to pour himself more wine. He brings the bottle over to me, and fills mine up.
“I’m going to ask you a sincere favor. That has to be the last time you knock yourself around me. Ever. I can’t take listening to you talk like that. I love you for exactly who you are, and you should trust my judgment. Own who you are proudly. Can you make me that promise?”
“I do, Brian, and I’m sorry. My self-esteem has taken some bad hits over the years; it’s just learned behavior. I do trust you by the way. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. I have too much to lose.”
Without saying a word, he rises, picks me up and walks back up the stairs to my bedroom. He makes love to me all night long.
Chapter 19
I have to pinch myself when I wake up. I am lying here next to the sweetest, most gorgeous specimen of a man. I used to think that Katie got the best-looking guy on the planet, but not anymore. Granted, Jason could be pictured in the dictionary under “stud,” but my Brian would be right alongside him. His eyes are closed, his hair is mussed, and he’s breathing so quietly through those soft lips, I just want to kiss them. But I won’t, I’ll let the man sleep. He worked hard last night and deserves to be rewarded. I can’t believe how refreshed I feel, considering I had only two hours sleep. I know it will catch up with me later, but right now I feel like I could run a marathon.
I wiggle out of his arms and grab my robe off the back of the door. I hear the dog downstairs scratching to go out, so I hustle down to let him out before he barks. I need some coffee and some quiet time to reflect. In the last twelve hours, my world has turned upside down. Or right side up depending upon how you look at it. He freely professed his love for me, just when I thought I had gotten to the point in my life where I could be classified as unlovable. I have so much to think about, starting with my kids. John, Matthew and Luke are now eleven, eight and six respectively. E
ven though Chris has surprised me with how much he has requested to see them, he’s still Chris. You never know when he’ll up and change his mind. My boys need a stable presence in their lives other than Jason, Katie and me, so I want to hold out from introducing them to each other for as long as possible while Brian and I figure this out.
I get up to let the dog back in, and I hear footsteps upstairs. He’ll be down in a few minutes, and my heart starts to pound. Last night was intense, physically and emotionally. I’m anxious as I wait to see how he’ll be this morning. He arrives in the kitchen a happy man. He’s wearing a smile that lights up the room. Thank God. My heart’s still pounding; but now it’s for a better reason.
“Good morning, beautiful! You love me. Do you have any idea how good that feels?”
He bends down and kisses me sweetly on the nose. After everything we did in bed last night, the gesture feels innocent. I blush just thinking about it.
“I’m not sure if you know this, but our last regular-season game is next Sunday, after Christmas. I’d really love to take you and your boys. They could even hang out on the sideline with me. Jason will be there as well, so they’d feel comfortable with him, right? I’m not trying to rush you into anything, and we don’t have to tell them anything other than I’m your friend. It’s up to you, but I’d love to have you there.”
He looks so hopeful. I know they would have the time of their lives doing that. They already know who he is, and if I said he was my friend I’d be the greatest mom of all time in their eyes. That might be the perfect setting for them to meet. They’ll be so excited about the game; they won’t care about anything else. I’ll drag Katie along with Grace and Zach too.
“That sounds great, Brian, I know they’d love it. They’ll keep you on your toes down there, are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure. I really want to get to know them. When do they get back from your ex’s?
“Two more days. They’re having an early Christmas with Chris and his new girlfriend. Gag. Poor John keeps texting me that they’re ready to come home. Why do you ask?”
“I was sort of hoping that you and I could enjoy an early holiday, too. I’ve never put up a Christmas tree, and I’d like to, but I think I need help. We could spend a couple of nights at my place decorating, and celebrating. I’ll really miss you on Christmas Day. Bring Benny, too!”
“That sounds perfect, Brian, I’d love to do that. You’ve never put up a tree?”
“No, when I was with my mom, we never had enough money for one. It was a tree or presents, there weren’t many of those but I never cared. Always more fun to give than to receive anyway. Can we go today?”
He looks like a toddler, begging with big eyes. My heart squeezes when I think of him as a little kid with no Christmas tree. If I dwell on that part, I’ll lose it.
“Of course! Let’s get ready now, I can’t wait to get your place decorated.”
I pack a light bag, and grab some things for Benny. I make sure to leave enough food and water for the cat. I’ll have Kat come over and check on her too. On the way to his place, we swing by the store to get him everything he needs. I am thunderstruck as we casually walk up and down the aisles by the knowledge that we’re now a couple. I love him, and he loves me. It feels natural just to be with him, and I haven’t really thought of it in these terms. Katie’s been remarkably quiet. I haven’t heard from her at all. I think she knows by now that if things hadn’t gone well, I would have tracked her down. No news is good news. She’s leaving well enough alone.
We buy a small fake tree, lights, ornaments and plenty of cheesy Christmas décor. He had so much fun picking everything out. He makes me appreciate much that I’ve taken for granted in my life. I know I bitch and moan every year when I have to get the Christmas stuff out, and I forget just how many people go without. It’s humbling. I’m also surprised by how many people recognize him. I guess I shouldn’t be, after all, it is Chicago, and they love their football, but even little old ladies are talking to him. There are a lot of inquiries about his injury and his status for next year. He is very gracious with everyone, even though it takes us twice as long to get out of the store. It seems his college attitude is long gone.
We get to his place, and tear into everything right away. He’s so eager, it’s adorable. We get the tree up, two stockings hung, and all the plastic Santa Claus knickknacks set up. Nothing really goes with the ultra modern style of his place, but that makes it even cuter. We take Benny out for a walk, but it’s too cold outside to linger. He wraps me up with him in his oversized jacket and keeps me close. I’ve never felt so loved.
He lights a fire when we return, and opens a bottle of wine. Benny passes out in the corner where Brian has made a makeshift bed for him out of blankets. All is right with the world. Then my phone rings. Dammit! Karma apparently only allows for so much happiness before it decides to pull the rug out. I lurch for it quickly in case it’s one of the kids.
“Hello? John?”
“No, Mel, it’s Chris. Where the hell are you?”
Oh, joy. The asshole.
“I’m not home, Chris, what do you need?”
Brian looks worried.
“Well, Melanie, the boys wanted to come home. Where’s the dog?”
Son of a bitch. He’s not doing this to his kids or me. Screw him.
“Chris, I have Benny, and I won’t be home. You need to take the kids back to your house and I’ll pick them up on Thursday when we agreed upon. Is John there? Can I talk with him?”
He doesn’t say a word, but I hear him grumbling as he hands the phone to our son.
“Hi, mom. We want to come home. Lisa isn’t being very nice to us.”
The girlfriend.
“What is she doing?”
“I don’t think she likes kids very much. She’s just not very friendly. Where are you?”
Double shit.
“Put Dad back on the phone, honey. I’ll see you on Thursday and we’ll have the greatest Christmas ever. Don’t you let her be mean to you. I love you.”
“What?”
“Take the phone out of earshot of the boys, Chris. If you think for one fucking second I’ll put up with your pubescent bitch being rude to my kids, you have another fucking thing coming. You tell that cunt to take her ass home and stay there until my boys leave. You spend quality time with your kids, and enjoy them while they’re young because, trust me, Chris, they’re going to hate your fucking guts when they get older. You can shit on me all you want, but you shit on them again and it will be the last time. I’ll take your ass to court to make sure your bitches stay away from them. It’s Christmas, for fuck sake! Do the right thing for once, asshole!”
I’m screaming at the phone, my eyes squeezed shut. I can’t believe everything that just came out of my mouth. I’ve tried for too long to make everyone happy, now it’s my turn. Chris is silent on the other end. At first I think he’s hung up on me, until I hear him clear his throat.
“OK, got it. All right boys, tell your mom you’ll see her on Thursday. Let’s go get some pizza, OK?”
I hear the boys shout, “Bye Mom! Love you!”
My hands start to shake as I hit “end” on my phone. I look up and Brian is staring at me. I forgot where I was for a second; my rage blinded me to anything but how pissed off I was. Oh no, what must he think of me now?
“Please remind me to never piss you off! I’ve seen you bitchy, but never like that! Congratulations, Mel, you stood up to him!”
He lifts his wine glass to toast me. I clink glasses with him, but I don’t take a drink just yet.
“I’ve never spoken to Chris like that before, even after I threw him out. I feel so confident around you, Brian, you give me the power to stand up for myself. Chris has always been able to bully me, using our kids, but no more. Thank you for being you.”
I reach over to kiss him, and he leans back so I fall on top of him. We both laugh, and he kisses me softly.
“I haven’
t done anything, Mel, that was all you. I’ve merely been a mirror showing you what was there all along. Your boys may not realize it yet, but they’ll respect you for what you’ve done.”
The fire and the sparkling Christmas lights are reflected in his eyes. I can’t look away; I’m mesmerized. I heard what he said, though, and I pray that he’s right. I can’t raise three men like their dad. I take the wineglass from his hand, and place both on the coffee table. The sun has set, and the flickering light in the room is so romantic. I stand up as he remains sitting on the floor. I slowly begin a striptease for him. His eyes widen, and he lies back on folded arms, watching intently. I shake my hair out of my haphazard ponytail, and he smiles. This is going to be fun.
I slowly unzip my skinny jeans, and peel them down my legs to the floor. I step out of them and kick them to the side. I grab my sweater at the bottom, and take my time pulling it up over my head. I shimmy my breasts as I pull it up over them. I’m standing in the see-through underwear I thought I’d never wear again. He’s pleased. He looks me up and down, and bites his knuckle. Knowing that he appreciates what he sees turns me on. I’m warm, wet and ready for him to touch me. I kneel down to face him, and I take my wineglass from the table. I take a big swig and kiss him with it in my mouth. He moans loudly, tasting me and the wine as it dribbles down our chins. He follows the drops on my chin with his tongue, and continues to lick the wine off of my chest. It’s cold, but his mouth is warm and sensual. I take another sip; I’m enjoying this a little too much. He opens his mouth like a baby bird to take in more. I boldly kiss him once more, and transfer the cold, sweet wine to his mouth. He keeps it in there, while he gently pushes me down on my back. He pulls down my panties, and I have a strong feeling of what’s coming next. I feel the shock of the cold wine; warmed a bit from his mouth, pour over my clit. He uses his tongue to tease and drink the wine from my slit. I was already wet, and he seems to be enjoying the combined tastes.