Running Wilde (The Winnie Wilde Series Book 1)

by Chambers, Meg

  “Oh, that feels so good,” Winnie moaned. She tilted her head up, arching her neck, while he firmly rubbed her scalp with his strong hands.

  Ben turned her around again and continued gently kneading her scalp while the water rinsed her hair. He brought his mouth down on hers for just a few seconds, then he reached for the shower gel, lathered up, and massaged her body as he had done her hair. Winnie purred like a lazy indulged feline. When she tried to apply soap to his body, he stopped her. “Not yet,” he whispered.

  He continued lathering, rubbing the slippery soap from her shoulders down her breasts. While his hands concentrated on her arms, his tongue flicked from one hard, slick nipple to the other, causing her to wiggle with delight. His touch switched between gentle and firm, kneading and caressing, like a good Swedish massage. She purred louder when his fingers tracked down her spine like ten marching soldiers, but her body stiffened when the fingers of one hand slipped between her buttocks, rubbing and teasing.

  “Relax,” he whispered in her ear just before his mouth came down on hers. Taking a deep breath, she gave in, giving him free reign over her body. His other hand slipped between her legs from the front, causing her to yelp softly against his mouth. In seconds, she was panting. A few minutes later, she cried out and slumped against him.

  He held her tight against his firm chest until she lifted her face to his and said, “Your turn.”

  Clinging to each other, they switched places in the large shower until the main spray was running down Ben’s back. Following his lead, Winnie quickly washed his hair and gave him a soapy massage, but near the end she lowered herself, kneeling on the wet tile. She played with his genitals, massaging them. He moaned, his arms spread out, one hand flat against the side of the shower, the other clutching the top of the shower door. His head was thrown back and his eyes closed.

  She rubbed between his strong ropey thighs, and traced the muscles with her tongue. When her mouth closed over his erection and began sucking, he called out something unintelligible. Winnie was pleased. She wanted to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her.

  Winnie reached for the condoms Ben had left on the shower bench and unwrapped one while Ben slipped to the floor, his back against the wall, his legs out in front of him. Quickly Winnie slipped the condom on and straddled him, impaling herself hard and fast. For a few seconds, they stayed still, locked together with the water hitting them from several sides, then they began rocking, finding a common rhythm, until they climaxed almost at the same time.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “A dildo does not make you run,” Kathy pointed out over dinner on Friday night.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Winnie agreed, “but it also doesn’t make me feel like the top of my head is about to come off.” She paused, then added, “In a good way. In a very good way.”

  “So you’re enjoying your physical therapy?” Kathy did air quotes when saying the last two words.

  Winnie laughed. “Yes, very much. Although I doubt it’s doing the state drought situation any good.”

  “And is any work getting done on the house?”

  A waiter delivered two beet salads to their table and Winnie waited until he left before answering. “Quite a bit, actually.” Winnie poked a fork at her salad. “We don’t spend the entire day in bed, you know. We seem to have settled into a nice but exciting routine. In the morning we run, then make love, then work on the house. Except yesterday when Nadia came in to clean. We skipped the run, and when Ben showed up, he went right to work. Although I did notice that Nadia enjoyed having the eye candy around. The part of the house where Ben was working was especially clean.”

  “And the screwing?” Kathy asked, her green eyes glowing with curiosity. “Did you skip that too or sneak off to the garage while Nadia was busy scrubbing that den of iniquity better known as your shower?”

  Winnie blushed. “We had a quickie after Nadia went home.” She stabbed a beet. “Actually, the quickie turned into an overnight.” She stuck the beet into her mouth and chewed. “Yum. This is the best beet salad I’ve ever had.”

  Kathy took a bite of hers and agreed, but before she could say anything more the waiter brought two plates of appetizers their table. One plate contained delicate quarters of deviled eggs. The other held miniature grilled cheese sandwiches, no bigger than a bite. “Compliments of the chef,” the waiter said as he placed them on the table.

  Winnie popped a tiny sandwich into her mouth. “Mmmm. I’m going to have to run an extra few miles after this meal.”

  Kathy had just sampled a deviled egg. “Will you be running those miles vertically or horizontally?”

  Winnie was tempted to throw a baby sandwich at Kathy but changed her mind since it was a very nice restaurant and she didn’t want to waste the delicious food. That, and the chef was heading their way.

  “Hi,” said the tall slender woman in a white chef’s coat. She had short unnaturally black hair and very white skin. Settled on her long nose were round glasses with purple frames. Her face was narrow and her mouth highlighted by laugh lines. She smiled at both of them, but her gaze latched onto Kathy. “I’m so glad you decided to try my restaurant, Kathy.”

  “After your passionate pitch about the place, how could I not?” Kathy matched the chef’s smile and eye latch. “Zoe, this is my very dear friend Winnie Wilde,” Kathy said, remembering her manners and making the introduction. “Winnie, this is Chef Zoe Hull. She’s the owner and Executive Chef of this place.”

  “I believe we met briefly at Ann Marie Hattersley’s birthday party a few weeks ago,” Winnie said, holding out her right hand. The two women shook. “I’m one of her writing students.” Winnie pointed at her nearly empty plate. “The beet salad was divine and I might already be addicted to these mini sandwiches.”

  “Thank you,” Zoe said, pleased with the praise. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken the liberty of changing your order. I’m preparing something different for you, a specialty that is not on the menu, and my pastry chef is whipping up a special dessert.” She hesitated, then asked with concern, “Any allergies I should know about?” When Winnie and Kathy both shook their heads, Zoe said with a grin, “Good.”

  On her way back to the kitchen, Zoe paused to say hello to a few other diners, then stopped their waiter to have a few words. A minute later, a bottle of wine arrived in an ice bucket, along with fresh glasses to replace the single-glass wine they had originally ordered. The waiter uncorked the new bottle and poured them each a glass. They took a sip and nodded their appreciation to the waiter, who left, leaving the bottle in the bucket.

  Winnie took another sip of the wine. It was a crisp and elegant white, perfect with the food on the table, and she was sure it would accompany the surprise dishes beautifully. “So, what’s the story with Chef Zoe?”

  Kathy grinned like a kid who’d won a prize. “I met Zoe through Ann Marie a while back. At the party we spent almost the entire night talking and hit it off.”

  “I don’t remember that. Where was I?”

  “In a corner talking about writing with a bunch of Ann Marie’s nerdy students.”

  “I am one of Ann Marie’s nerdy students,” Winnie reminded her.

  Ignoring Winnie’s comment, Kathy continued, “Zoe seemed interested, but I never followed up on her overtures. After seeing you take such bold chances of the heart, I decided I wasn’t about to sit on the sidelines. So I made reservations here for dinner tonight.” She took a sip of her wine. “I didn’t tell her we were coming. Zoe must have seen the name in the reservation book. The plan was to scope out the place and maybe have a quick word with her to see if she was still interested.”

  “Interested?” Winnie asked with amusement. She held up her glass to Kathy in a toast. “I believe you are being downright wooed, my dear.”

  “Speaking of which,” Kathy said after downing another egg. “Let’s get back to the sleepover. How did it go?”

  Winnie reached for an egg. “Hey, don’t hog thos
e.”

  “You’re avoiding my nosiness,” Kathy said, passing the plate of eggs to Winnie, who in turned traded it for the plate of remaining grilled cheese mini-bites.

  Winnie took her time answering. She popped an egg into her mouth and chewed, then washed it down with some of the delicious wine. “It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” she admitted with a sly grin. “After our quickie, we ordered pizza for dinner and ate in the den while watching a movie. We also talked a lot.” She paused. “Ben’s really an interesting guy; a free spirit but with both feet on the ground and a solid head for business. I wish I’d met someone like him when I was in college, instead of Edward.”

  “Maybe,” Kathy said, studying Winnie, “you did and at that time in your life you weren’t interested in that type of person.”

  They continued eating in silence while Winnie digested what Kathy had just said. “Maybe you’re right, Kathy,” she finally agreed. They’d finished their salads and a bus boy came by to whisk away their plates and replace their cutlery. The waiter replenished their wine glasses.

  Winnie nodded without looking across the table. “Yes, maybe you’re right,” she repeated. “Edward was so stable and knew exactly what he wanted. I was drawn to that and never saw the dullness beneath it.”

  “You didn’t see it because you were doing exactly what was expected of you,” Kathy noted. “Find a nice, stable boy with a future, marry him, and raise a family.”

  “Yes,” Winnie agreed. “Although I don’t regret my kids or even many of my years with Edward. Most of that time he was a good husband and father, even if he was controlling and set in his ways. He’s exactly like his father, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d always thought his mother was cold and plastic, then one day I realized I had become plastic too. I was the dutiful wife, self-sacrificing, obedient and always last in line when it came to getting what I want.”

  “Are you getting what you want now?” Kathy asked.

  Winnie shrugged. “Sexually, yes. Ben is a great lover, both giving and receiving. As for the other stuff, I don’t know yet. I’m a little worried about all the changes going on. I’m very excited, but also scared. What if I don’t like travelling? What if I regret giving up the house? Technically, I’ll be homeless.”

  “Do you want to keep the house? You can, you know. You haven’t sold it yet and it’s paid for.”

  Winnie shook her head. “No, I don’t want the house. It’s big and feels too oppressive. I never liked that house. It was Edward’s dream house. He insisted on buying it.”

  “So why don’t you look around for something you might like. Something small and with less maintenance.” Kathy took another sip of wine.

  “Maybe I will,” Winnie said. “I’d like something like your condo, but at the beach. Chet had thought I was selling the house to buy a condo at the beach. Maybe my son knows me better than I do.”

  A party of four walked past their table on their way to their own. Kathy recognized one of the men in the group and they exchanged quick pleasantries. After, Kathy asked, “Speaking of kids, how are you and Tiff doing?”

  Winnie shrugged. “I’ve called her, but she hasn’t responded, except to send me a text saying she’d be by tomorrow, along with her brother, to go through their rooms. I’ve already pulled everything out of their closets and drawers and piled it up in boxes, guessing at what they might want and not want, so it’s not like it will take all weekend.”

  “Will Ben be working at your place this weekend?”

  “No,” Winnie answered. “He wanted to come by and help, but I told him it was not a good idea. He understood completely, but we made plans for Saturday night.” Winnie grinned. “He asked me out on a date.”

  “A real date?” Kathy asked with one auburn brow cocked.

  “Yes, ma’am. We’re going to some charity event in Beverly Hills.”

  “Not a Laker’s game?” Kathy asked. “That’s what I would expect from someone his age.”

  “Nope.” Winnie sipped her wine. “Cocktail attire is even required.”

  “And another sleepover?” Kathy eyed Winnie over the rim of her own wine glass.

  Winnie winked at her. “That’s the plan.”

  Their entrée arrived – a whole fish cooked to perfection with an assortment of vegetables on the side. Their waiter expertly carved and plated the fish tableside, then disappeared. They fell on their food, nearly swooning with each bite.

  “Marry this woman, Kathy,” Winnie said in a hushed whisper across the table. “If she’ll have you, grab her, then invite me to dinner at least once a week.” They both laughed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “So you’re really going through with this?” Tiffany asked. She stood in the middle of her old bedroom eyeing the chaos of boxes. She looked both cross and confused.

  “Yes, I am,” Winnie told her. “The house goes on the market right after the contractor finishes painting. I need you to decide which of that stuff you want to take with you and which to discard.”

  “Who did you hire, Mom?” Chet asked, showing up in the hall just outside Tiffany’s old room. “They did a great job on the few things I’ve noticed. That shelf in my room is fixed and so is my window. And the door downstairs doesn’t stick anymore.”

  “You’ll also notice that the faucet in your bathroom is repaired,” Winnie said. “The contractor went from top to bottom checking everything in every room – all the pipes, doors, windows and drains. There weren’t many major repairs, mostly little things, but they’re done now, and it will help show the house better according to the realtor. Monday he’s going to work on the front walk lighting. A couple of the outside lamps haven’t been working properly. After that, he’ll do some repair work on the garage, then start the painting. Both of your rooms will be completely painted. Other areas will be touched up.”

  “What about the furniture and all your stuff?” Tiffany asked. She was now sitting on a corner of her bed, her face open and curious. Winnie was pleased to see that her daughter had decided sulking wasn’t getting her anywhere and changed course.

  “Once I get rid of all the stuff I don’t want, some will go into storage,” she told them. “The furniture will remain to stage the house for showing. After, I will move it to my new place. Or at least as much of it as I want.”

  Both of the kids’ heads shot in her direction. “Your new place?” Chet asked first. “But I thought you were hitting the road like some vagabond.”

  Winnie crossed her arms in front of her and shot her son a scowl. “Vagabond? Really?”

  “Well, you said you were going to travel extensively,” Chet said, getting mildly defensive.

  “Travel, yes,” she responded. “Hitting the rails like a dustbowl hobo, no.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking that I really should have a home base, and after talking to Kathy and my realtor, I’ve decided to look for a nice condo, maybe in Santa Monica, or even a small house. Something that’s easy and less expensive to maintain.”

  Tiffany got up from the bed and went to her mother. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Mom. You can’t live out of a suitcase, not at your age.”

  “My age?” Winnie parroted. “I’m fifty, Tiff. I have a long ways to go before I’m ready to be wheeled around while I gum my food.” Winnie thought about Ben and wondered what her kids would say if they knew about her affair.

  “Tiffany didn’t mean it that way, Mom,” Chet said, “We just want you to be safe.”

  “I still intend to do a lot of travelling, just not be homeless. In fact, I’m going to some open houses on Sunday.”

  “Do you want me to come along?” Tiffany asked, clearly pleased with the turn of events. “Mark will be studying all day.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Winnie told her, “but a friend is going with me.” She didn’t disclose that the friend was Ben. She’d asked if he was free to house hunt with her on Sunday since he was spending the night and he had eagerly accepted. Winnie had
wanted his expert contractor’s eye along.

  The day went by quickly as Winnie helped her son and daughter go through their things. She’d made a big pot of turkey chili that morning, knowing both of her kids like it. They ate it at the kitchen table with salad and cornbread and laughed as they swapped stories about the house and their years in it. Winnie was in heaven having her children all to herself. Now that they were grown, it was a rare thing.

  “Mom,” Tiffany said as they were finishing lunch. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Chet looked as surprised as Winnie. “You mean a man?” Chet asked his sister.

  “Yes, of course, a man,” Tiffany told her brother with a roll of her eyes. “Just because her BFF is gay, it doesn’t mean Mom is.” She turned to her mother, her eyes shiny with excitement. “He’s very nice. Divorced and quite attractive. He works with me. I told him how great you are and he wants to meet you.”

  “But I thought you think I’m nuts,” Winnie said dryly. She took a sip of iced tea.

  “I don’t think you’re nuts, Mom,” Tiffany answered, “I just think that maybe you’re at loose ends now that Dad’s gone. You need some companionship.”

  Winnie almost laughed out loud thinking about her activities with Ben Church and how some of that companionship had happened on the very table at which they were seated. She took another sip of tea. “I’m pleased that you’re so concerned Tiffany, but I think I’m still capable of finding my own dates. In fact, I have one tonight.” Both of her kids stared at her with open mouths.

  “Where did you meet him, Mom?” Chet asked.

  “While I was running,” she answered truthfully.

  “But what do you know about this guy?” Tiffany asked with suspicion.

  Winnie held up her left hand and ticked off Ben’s attributes on her fingers with her right hand. “He’s a business owner. Single. Nice looking. A college grad. And in great shape for his age.” She put her hand down and picked up her glass again. “We’ve already had a couple of lunches together.”