Her Younger Man (A Country Music Romance): a Renny and Rachel Romance

by MacLaren, Nancy

  I went to the side garden, where the smokers usually hid. Luckily no one was killing themselves one ciggie at a time at the moment. I sat down, then stood up, dialing the number on the card with shaky fingers. It took me three times to punch the numbers in correctly.

  It rang. And rang. And rang.

  Shit. He was probably still asleep. My mind filled of dreamy pictures of Renny stretched out in all his glory … and right beside him was some busty, 20 year old blonde. He probably thought I had ignored his gifts and didn’t care about him. He’d gone out and had revenge sex with some impossibly beautiful woman with no cellulite, droopy breasts or attitude. Oh, my mind is a very dangerous place to stroll around in.

  I hung up, sat down and put my head down. I was dizzy and breathing shallow gulps of oxygen. My heart raced, my palms started to sweat and I knew I was in for a major panic attack. Why do I always have to think the worst? Why am I so mean to myself?

  The phone rang. I jumped a foot and dropped it all over the pavement, breaking off the back cover and spilling the battery. And hanging up on the caller. Shit, shit, shit.

  Praying it wasn’t totaled I put it back together and turned it on. It worked! I checked the last call. It was him!

  So now I had ignored his gifts for a week, called and left no message and hung up on him when he called me back. Even I thought he deserved revenge sex.

  I called back. I would have to make this good. Could I say I was sick? In the hospital? Dead at the time?

  “Hello?”

  “Renny. Renny, hi. It’s me. Rachel. Drake.”

  “I know who you are, girl. Though I’m beginning to think I’d be better off forgetting.”

  “No, no oh, I’m so sorry. I was home all week. I was… sick… kinda and didn’t know about the flowers and the… other gift until a few minutes ago. I’m so sorry. The flowers are, were wonderful and I didn’t think you owed me boxers but they’re great and I sure would like to see you model them for me. Oh, no that was creepy. Sorry. I’m …”

  “Sorry, I know.” He was laughing. At me. Well, I deserved it. What a putz I am. “So, whatcha doing baby girl?”

  “Making a fool of myself in front of the handsome Taylor Brother apparently.”

  “Can you get away?”

  “Now? Aren’t you in Canada somewhere?”

  “Toronto. Can you come to me?”

  Come to him? Oh yes, to him, with him, because of him. Then I remembered, I’m an adult with a job and a non-existent dog to take care of.

  “I have to work, damn it. I missed all last week.” For nothing. If there had been a brick wall close by I would have bloodied it with the head banging I deserved.

  “This weekend? Surely they can’t make you work on the week-end. You could say you’re covering more of our tour.”

  “That wouldn’t fly with Sam.”

  “Then just come up and cover me.”

  I didn’t care if I got fired, I was going to Canada.

  “Yes. I will. When?”

  “I’ll book you a plane for Friday afternoon. Will that work?”

  I wanted to protest his buying me a ticket but I couldn’t afford it. At least no one could accuse him of dating me for my fortune.

  “Sounds perfect. What clothes, kind of clothes should I bring?”

  “Nothing. On second thought, bring the boxers.” He hung up leaving me sitting in a shabby side garden grinning, a little weak in the knees and wet between the thighs.

  ____________________________________________________________________________________

  The week crawled. It was like that dream where you’re running but getting nowhere. I was in wait mode from Monday morning until Friday morning when my plane ticket popped into my email. I wasn’t leaving until 6 p.m. which meant I wouldn’t see Renny until after midnight. That was a whole day away! I was going to lose my mind. Is that possible? Can a person sexually combust? If they could, I would.

  Caroline was dogging my every step. She wanted to know everything but I wasn’t about to tell her the slightest detail. I even hid my plane ticket from her. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her follow me to Toronto just to get some dirt. At the airport I kept looking behind me to see if she was lurking. She wasn’t. Not that I could see.

  Finally! I was on the plane and winging my way towards Renny. Unlike our last ‘encounter’ this was definitely premeditated which made me very anxious. I was sure that because of a week of misery and another of anticipation, I had shed at least 10 pounds. Too bad airplanes make me swell because I was sure I was going to waddle off the plane, Renny would take one look at me in the fluorescent light and scream “Hell no!” It could happen. Or worse, he wouldn’t say a thing and just politely go through the week-end. I would receive a pity fuck and a gift basket and be sent on my way.

  I thought these things because, well, I’m a bit of a lunatic, but also because none of this made any sense to me. This man was not only famous, a gifted musician, but also incredibly handsome. He had fans all over the world. Women made tribute videos of him smiling, playing music, and brooding. I know because I obsessively watched them when I should have been writing.

  This man could have anyone –well, maybe not anyone, Michelle Obama seems pretty content with her man, but there had to be thousands of women more suitable for him in every way. I’m not a musician. I’m not handsome, pretty, whatever. Most importantly, I’m not in my 30’s. I had tried looking in the mirror to see myself as he saw me and I was clueless.

  The secret I’ve never shared with anyone is that I have always wanted to be beautiful. I dreamed of turning into a swan my whole childhood. I hadn’t. I’m presentable, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a total troll or anything, but I am far from beautiful. I always wondered what if felt like to look in the mirror and like what you see, to have it generally acknowledged that you are good-looking, to be named one of the sexiest people alive. Renny had all that. What did he want me for?

  I have read many studies that indicate that, although women date ‘down’, men rarely do. We’ve all seen the beautiful woman (Charlize Theron comes to mind) dating the ugly guy (Sean Penn comes to mind) but I have never seen a celebrity with an ugly or even average looking woman. So why? I couldn’t figure it out and it made me uncomfortable and insecure. At any minute the drugs he was on could wear off and then where would I be?

  I landed and knew my jumpy stomach and uneven footing had nothing to do with the five hour flight. Would he be waiting for me or would he send Jed? I didn’t know which to hope for.

  He was waiting, in a bad disguise. Ball cap, hair pulled back, sunglasses after midnight. What a goof. He was attracting more attention than if he’d just stood there as Renny Taylor. I could see him from the other side of customs and I wondered how I was supposed to greet him. I couldn’t jump into his arms like a teenager. Besides knocking him over, I would look ridiculous. A kiss on the cheek? A shy hi? What? What were we to each other? I’d come a long way for just a booty call.

  I needn’t have worried. Renny cracked his trademark, lop-sided smile when he saw me, then rushed me into a huge embrace the moment I stepped onto Canadian soil. We fit so well together. Was that part of it? In Renny’s arms I felt I’d come home, as corny as that sounds. Did I feel like home to him too?

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered in my ear as he steered me towards the door and the waiting taxis.

  What could I say that had any chance of expressing how I felt? Missing him? Yes. The truth was I had missing Renny my entire life.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I didn’t see much of Toronto during our ride to the hotel since Renny started kissing me the minute the cab door closed. I have no idea what the cab driver thought but I’m sure he’s seen it all before. Still, in public, my uneasiness with the age difference reared its ugly head. I hoped in the late evening light the driver hadn’t had a chance to register how much older I was than the man exploring my mouth with his tongue.

  Then I did the absolute worst
thing a woman can do when being thoroughly kissed by her lover, I started crying. Renny pulled back, a quizzical look on his face. “What? Did I bite you?”

  “Not this time. I’m …”

  “I’m sorry Rachel. I just started mauling you. I didn’t even ask how you are, how the flight was. I am a Nazi, sexist, pig dog, I know.”

  I laughed hearing him use one of my phrases. I can’t remember when I called him that. Maybe during the Fight of the Panties. He had remembered it so I guess that was good. What writer doesn’t want her words remembered?

  “You are not … any of those things. I’ve just been wound up and tired and tense and…”

  “Well, baby girl, you have come to the right place. Easing tension is one of my minor talents.”

  “Is it? I’ll hold you to that.”

  And I did.

  As soon as we entered his room, I dropped my purse and Renny dropped my overnight bag as he grabbed me and pinned me against the now locked door. It was page 11 of The Godfather all over again. (As a teenager I had read the door sex scene from that book over and over.) I found that it is easier removing each other’s clothing standing up. True to form Renny was commando under his jeans and I wasn’t much better. I had gone to this great little sex store in Portland called SheBop and bought the best lacy undies I could find. I wasn’t to be outdone by all the girls in his audience. He wanted panties, he was getting panties.

  He removed everything but them and then knelt in front of me for a closer look. There is something about being licked thru silky panties that does me in. It’s such a tease. I squirmed with pleasure and tried to remove them for him. Oh no, he wasn’t having that. Instead he picked me up (you heard me – dude is strong!) And plopped me face up on the luxurious, gigantic bed. He then kneeled on the floor and began applying his kissing talents to the lower parts of my anatomy.

  He wasn’t just down there doing his ‘duty’ he was having a tremendous time. He started a few inches below my panties, licking and nibbling on my inner thighs, each flick of his tongue coming closer and closer to the Promised Land. Then the fingers got going and I was treated to a whole new level of anticipation.

  The panties finally gave way to his tugs and pulls and his mouth was exploring my valleys and hills. I had a brief moment of fear as I realized I had quite the bushy bush going on down there. Caroline had given me a card for her waxing specialist and told me most men love the clean feel and look of a pre-pubescent girl. Um, no one is ripping my pubic hair out with wax. No thank you. Now I hoped I hadn’t made a big mistake.

  My hairiness didn’t slow Renny down. He buried his aquiline nose deep into me and inhaled as though I was the nectar of the gods. I gave up worrying and let myself sink into the moment.

  A huge cry tore from my chest and echoed through the room as I traveled to another time and dimension. We were on the 17th floor but I knew the people checking in at the lobby had heard me and wondered if the place was collapsing.

  To say I was no longer tense or nervous would be ludicrous. I would NEVER be tense again. Damn! This man could make more money doing this than his music.

  When I came back to earth he was beside me, grinning like a goon and pressing something very large and very stiff into my side. I was experiencing multiple aftershocks of various depths when he slid into me. I needn’t have practiced all those vaginal muscle exercises because my body was naturally doing them for me. I felt so guilty because it didn’t take him long to climax and I hadn’t done anything but lie there and moan. I guess it was enough. I swore that as soon as I got control of my limbs again I was going to make it up to him. I wanted to make him bring down the lobby ceiling. Fair is fair.

  Turned out he thought it was a very good idea.

  So I did. And he did.

  _____________________________________________________________________________________

  I woke up as light crept in through the curtains with an urgent need to pee. I raced to the bathroom, peed for what seemed like an hour and drank three glasses of water.

  When I returned to the bedroom Renny was lying with one leg under the covers but the glorious rest of him on full display. I slid down trying to be gentle so I wouldn’t wake him. Man had worked hard last night and needed his rest. Besides, I wanted to look at him, undisturbed and in the light.

  He was beautiful. Every part of his body was new and amazing. The planes of his face relaxed into a sleepy grin (yes, he even smiled in his sleep) and eased the lines around his eyes and mouth. His skin was a light brown, kissed by the sun, I think they call it, with stubble forming as I watched. I didn’t even know that I had longed for a moment like this; the permission to admire my lover’s body without shame, anticipation or urgency. To just drink Renny in was almost as satisfying as all the love-making. I have to repeat it again because no other word comes close to describe him; beautiful, he was beautiful.

  I found my fingers drifting to his arms. I just wanted to feel the light sprinkling of hair there. It caught the light in an entrancing way and I couldn’t help myself. If I didn’t touch this man soon I would surely burst.

  I moved my hand to stroke his curly, dark chest, my hand drifting down to that wonderful wisp of hair that lingered on his belly. And then there was the ‘boys’. Nestled in their furry nest they looked innocent and approachable. Can someone be rugged and graceful all at the same time? Can someone be smooth, tender and mischievous while they’re asleep? Yup, they can. If they are Renny Taylor.

  A sleepy voice startled me out of my worshipful reverie.

  “If you’re gonna touch me girl, touch me. “

  I looked up. His eyes were still closed but he sported a slight but crooked smile.

  I moved my hand closer up his leg and stroked his inner thighs, making sure that I brushed the boys just a little bit here and there. He responded in a most satisfying way but didn’t make a move. Oooo, my own personal Ken doll! Yes!

  I took my time making my way to the main event and by the time I firmly grasped his penis in my hand he was wiggling and breathing hard. I didn’t say a thing but added a few licks to inside his thighs just to drive him further insane. After what he’d done to me last night payback was due.

  I had to admire his restraint as I took his hardness into my mouth and licked without moving.

  “You’re torturing me Rachel. What the hell?”

  I moved my mouth down and up just once, tightening my jaw just slightly.

  “Arrrr… you are a she-devil woman. Suck it or leave me alone.”

  “You don’t get to give my lessons in cock-sucking Mr. Taylor. I believe I do know what I’m doing in this department.”

  Then I proceeded to prove my expertise. I am very good at bringing men to the brink and then pulling back. I had practice after all. There is something to be said for experience over youthful exuberance, if I do say so myself.

  When he was finally squirming uncontrollably, I quit. I lay down next to him and grinned.

  “Why hello Mr. How did you sleep?”

  “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean Mr. Taylor. I am always deadly serious.”

  “You want serious, I’ll give you serious,” he practically screamed as he rolled on top of me and jammed his cock into my wet and ready abyss. He meant business and I was loving it! I still have it! 15 years hadn’t made the skills rusty at all. Just like riding a bicycle. If the bicycle is giving you a powerful fucking.

  It didn’t take long for him to top the summit. He lay on top of me shuddering and flopping around like a landed fish. It would have been comical if I wasn’t so turned on.

  I wrapped my arms around him and stroked his back and lovely plump buttocks. He was silky. He was gleaming. He was in my bed. He was all mine. For now.

  After a few minutes of saturated basking he raised up on his arms, looked me dead in the eye and said, “Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she writes, she wins Pulitzers and she gives mind- shattering blow jobs! Who is this m
ulti-hyphenate?”

  “I won’t be anyone if you don’t get off me. I love having you for my very own blanket, but, for a skinny man, you weigh a ton.”

  He laughed. No, more like a guffaw but he pulled up on his arms higher allowing me to breathe again.

  “That was a masterly performance Ms. Drake but I do believe you have not been properly paid for it.”

  He slid down my body and pushed my legs apart.

  Payback was definitely sweet.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We languished in bed for an hour before ordering breakfast. I didn’t think I was hungry for anything but Renny but when the food came I was suddenly ravenous. Sex uses a lot of calories. Time to carbo-load. After all I was going to be here for two more days. I would definitely need the energy.

  As we were sitting around the table eating, Reade knocked on the door.

  “Bro, what’s up? We need to go, man.”

  “Shit,” Renny mumbled as he opened the door letting Reade in. I instantly became aware of my undressed state under the fluffy hotel robe which I had carelessly tied. I pulled it closer and tried to cover most of my body. I didn’t even think about my cellulite, bumpy legs and wobbly arms around Renny but I was so uncomfortable to be found here, in this condition, by Reade. I had only met Reade once and I wasn’t sure if Ren had told him anything about me, or us. By Reade’s casual greeting of “Oh, hey Rachel,” I surmised I had been discussed. Either that or Reade was used to finding women in Renny’s room. Either way, I didn’t like it.

  “Ren, bro, did you forget?”

  “What?”

  “Adam texted you about 20 times last night.”

  Adam was their road manager. I had met him very briefly in Portland.

  “Sorry. Phone was … out of commission.”