by Lily Harlem
He spotted Ruben instantly. His face lit up and he strode over, passing his helmet to someone as he went.
“Bloody hell, Ruben, I didn’t know you were dropping in.”
“Just passing,” Ruben said.
His arm left my waist. I missed his touch.
I thought the two men would shake but they embraced, slapping each other on the back and grinning.
“You look much better than last time I saw you,” Dean said. “How’s the new ticker?”
“Perfect.” Ruben smiled and weaved his fingers with mine. “I wanted to bring Katie here, show her what I used to do.”
Dean inclined his head, studied me and nodded. “Ah, I can see why you have a sparkle back in your eye, mate. A beautiful woman on your arm is the best medicine.”
I smoothed my free hand down my black clothes. Shifted from one foot to the other.
Ruben squeezed my fingers. “I agree with that.”
“Nice to meet you, Katie.” Dean extended his hand. He was smiling, his tanned skin was flushed, and there was a horizontal groove on his forehead his helmet had left.
“You too,” I said. “Though I think you just bruised my eardrums.”
He smiled. “Whoops, sorry, I suppose we kind of get used to it.” He pointed at the car. “It’s going well, even though we got soaked in Japan last week, it did nothing but rain.”
“Not good, all that water.” Ruben shook his head. “I watched the race, you aced Farrah.”
“Yeah, only just.” Dean put his hand on his hip. “Could have done with you there, you always got the tension just right in wet weather.”
“Ah, these guys are great.” Ruben grinned and pointed at the men fussing over the car.
Dean followed his gaze. “Yeah, they are, I just live in hope you’ll join us again.”
Ruben laughed. “Maybe one day.”
“I suppose that’ll have to appease me for now.” Dean gripped Ruben’s shoulder again. “Listen, I have to go, but we’re staying at the usual place. Why don’t you join us for dinner one night this week, catch up with everyone? The team would love to see you.”
“Yeah, I will, Wednesday probably.”
“Perfect.” Dean smiled at me. “Great to meet you, Katie, and whatever you’re doing with my good friend here, keep doing it, it’s clearly working.”
* * * * *
“Do you want to come up?” I asked Ruben when he parked in front of my flat an hour later. “I could make us something to eat.”
He switched off the engine. “If you’re sure.”
I shrugged. “I’m actually quite hungry so I’m definitely going to eat tonight.”
He studied me. “Don’t you eat every night?”
I looked away, concentrated on a child zipping along the pavement atop a bright pink scooter with shiny tassels on the handlebars. “No.”
“You should.”
“Well, I know that.” I turned to him with a frown. “It’s just sometimes I get tired of forcing myself to eat.”
“Maybe you should stick to cream cakes, that seemed to go down well enough.” He lifted his eyebrows.
My mouth watered at the memory. “Mmm, and picnics, those dips and sandwiches you did yesterday were delicious.”
Ruben tugged his keys from the ignition. “There were lots of delicious flavors on that picnic. You being one of them.”
I tapped him playfully on the arm. “You’re silly.”
“And you’re tasty.” He laughed, a full belly laugh that rumbled around the car. “And yes, I will come up, just to make sure you eat. I feel it’s my duty.”
I bustled about in the kitchen making pasta with tuna and a side salad. Ruben poured us each a glass of water and set the table. He then sat on the sofa, remote control in his hand, and flicked through the channels.
My new flat felt alive, as if it were a real home. The sweet, grassy breeze ambled from the living room to the kitchen. The pan on the stove was bubbling away, creating steam that clung to the window. The tangy smell of the onions I’d fried filled my nose, and I could hear the TV, only the news, someone talking, but knowing Ruben was in the living room, that it wouldn’t be empty and soulless when I moved from one room to the other, created a feeling of hope in me—one that made me warm and content for the first time in a long time.
I also felt I knew Ruben better for having seen a glimpse into his old life. Understood how much he’d had to change because of his illness. Maybe he was right. Perhaps he would go back to his old job one day. Return to a wild, hedonistic, fast life of racing and globe trotting and leggy women with perfect bodies. I couldn’t show him my old life, or ever go back to it, but it had been nice to see his.
I flicked the pasta off the boil and stood in the kitchen doorway, one hand on the frame, pushing my hair from my face with the other.
Ruben looked up. Stared at me. He pulled in a deep breath and frowned.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes, I…”
I didn’t move. “What?”
“It’s just…”
“Tell me?”
He smiled. “You’ll think I’m being stupid.”
“No I won’t.”
“I had a dream last night, it just came back to me, really vivid.”
“What was it about?” I straightened.
“You.”
“Me?” I couldn’t deny the little thrill that word gave me, to think I’d been in this handsome man’s dream.
“You were stood, just like that, in a doorway, holding the side, fiddling with your hair.”
“Whose doorway?”
He silenced the TV. Put the remote on the tall table by the sofa. “Mine. My bedroom.”
“I see.”
He trailed his gaze down my body. Licked his lips.
“And what was I wearing?” I asked. Part of me was desperate to know, the other part afraid to ask. This was a new way for me to be with anyone other than Matt.
“White,” he said. “You were in white.”
“A dress?”
He smiled, shook his head. “Oh, no, white stockings with lace around your thighs. White teeny, tiny knickers and a corset-style top, you know that…” He put his cupped hands on his chest and smiled. “That made you look really pretty here.”
“Sounds like a very detailed dream.”
“It was. It was hot.” He nodded, bit on his bottom lip. “You were hot.”
A tremble started in my stomach and moved lower. Ruben thought I was hot. Hot enough to dream in detail about me. That in itself was like being kissed passionately. It turned my attraction for him to top level; it made me feel like the woman I had been once.
I even remembered a white outfit like that. It was something I’d taken on honeymoon to surprise Matt with one night. I could almost see his face again. His eyes instantly heavy with lust, his lips moist where he’d licked them the moment I’d appeared in the doorway.
Ruben was wearing the same look now, and he shifted on the sofa the same way Matt had shifted on the bed.
Taking a deep breath, I walked toward Ruben, wishing I had that outfit on, and straddled his lap. I dug my knees into the cushions and I rested my hands on his shoulders, let my bum settle on his thighs.
“Tell me more?” I said in what I hoped was a suitably sexy voice.
Ruben swallowed, frowned a little and looked into my eyes. “We were alone, there was only us there. It was warm, you smelled of fruit—papaya, melon, all things sweet.”
I smiled. “This is a very specific dream.”
He touched my cheek with the back of his index finger. “I know, and it’s all flooding back to me like it was a real memory.”
“Maybe we should make it real, one day.”
“I’d like that.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to mine. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?” he said with a smile.
“I’m not gorgeous, not really.”
He jerked his head. “Why would you say that?�
�
“Well, the women you must have had, you know, when you and Dean Cudditch were out together, swanning around glamorous places.”
“That was just fun. Messing about, there was never anyone serious. I was too busy traveling the world, being part of the winning team.”
“But weren’t they…?”
“They weren’t you. Katie. Matt must have told you all the time how beautiful you are. I get the impression from you that he was a great bloke, a wonderful husband who made you feel special and treasured.”
I nodded. “He was, he did, but…” I glanced downward, kept that delicate balance of mine on the straight and narrow. “But now, well, I’m a bit thinner than I was and smiles don’t come so easy.”
“I’ve seen you smile plenty since I met you, and each one has gone into my happy memory bank.”
His words made me smile again.
“See, beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you. It’s nice to hear someone say that.”
“It’s nice to have a sexy woman sitting on my lap.” He kissed me, softly, and stroked his fingers through my hair.
I broke the kiss and touched his hair too. I loved the longish strands and the way they flowed through my fingers like fluid silk.
He slid his hands down the column of my neck and reached for the first button on my work blouse. As he undid it, his smile slipped, and his eyebrows hung heavy in concentration.
My heart tripped. My nipples tightened. The dark look in his eyes was so sexy it went straight to my head, like a shot of alcohol.
He undid the next button, and the next, his jaw seeming to get tenser with each twist of his fingers.
I sat absolutely still, the tops of his thighs pressing into the backs of mine. Watching his face, each blink, each slight twitch of his cheek and the way he dampened his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. It was all making me want to grab him for a kiss but equally kept me frozen, fascinated.
When all the buttons were undone, he looked up at my face. It was a silent question.
I glanced out of the window—nothing but treetops.
I nodded.
Carefully, he slid the blouse off my shoulders, revealing my white lacy bra. It had a small daisy in the center of the cups and one at the base of each strap.
“That’s so much better than my dream,” he whispered, his breath like a caress on my chest. “And you are perfect.”
Words danced on my tongue. Words that wanted to explain that I used to be a cup size bigger and filled out my bra better. That maybe I would again one day. But I held them in, swallowed them down. They had no place in this moment with Ruben. Besides, he looked happy with what he saw.
I reached behind myself, unclipped the hook of my bra, let it fall open, but then held it in place with one arm across my chest.
“Katie, if you want to wait…?”
“No, this is fine. More than fine, I want this.” I let the straps slide off my arms and tossed the bra to the floor. “It feels right with you.”
And it did. I’d worried that I’d feel like an adulterous woman being with another man. But with Ruben, well, it was different. Matt was part of it. Part of Ruben. Part of us.
Ruben collected the slight weight of the undersides of my breasts in his hands. Watching his own movements, he parted his lips and his features softened.
His touch was electric and sent a plethora of forgotten sensations blasting through my chest, spiking my nipples and making my flesh feel heavy and engorged.
I pressed into him, just a little, needing more but not wanting to appear greedy. Fearing if I did that, I’d push myself into a wall and cause the bubble to shatter.
He rubbed his thumbs over my nipples. They were tiny stalks, erect and tight. I stuttered in a breath, the stimulation arousing and wonderful.
He glanced up at me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Yes, I like you touching me.”
“I like touching you.” The left side of his mouth rose into a languid half grin.
He moved his right hand to the center of my back. Held me firm as he leaned forward and took my left nipple into his mouth.
I gasped and ran my hands into his hair, held him close and arched my spine. Damn, it had been so long since I’d enjoyed this feeling. It was heavenly.
Releasing a breath, I watched as the huff of air from my lungs shifted the hair on the top of his head. He moved to the other breast, feeding my nipple into his mouth and tweaking it with his tongue. He massaged and gently squeezed the now damp breast he’d just given attention to.
A type of fever was growing in me. But it was fever of the good kind. Between my legs felt heavy, needy. I had the urge to move just a fraction farther forward in Ruben’s lap and see if the erection I suspected was there was as hard as it had been yesterday.
I stayed still.
Ruben kissed up my sternum, my neck, and found my mouth. He was still fondling my right breast as he kissed me, wetly, hungrily and with a little less control than yesterday.
Running my hand down his chest and over his belly, I found his groin. The folds of denim could do nothing to hide the swell of his hard cock. I itched to hold it, release it. Learn the shape and weight of him the way he’d just done to me. I popped the top button, but as I did so, he grabbed my wrist, pulled back from our kiss.
“Katie,” he said slightly breathlessly.
“What’s wrong?” I stilled.
He looked away.
“We can be ourselves together,” I said gently. “Tell me.”
“I like that.” He gently pinched my chin with his fingers and thumb.
“What?”
“That there is a ‘we’. Us together.”
“Me too.” I grazed my lips over his. “So tell me.”
He nodded and released my wrist. “It’s just, well, I want you to do whatever it is you want to do, but…”
He shut his eyes, as though frustrated with himself.
“But what?”
“But, well, I won’t deny it, I’m a bit anxious, you know, about doing this, with this.” He placed his hand on his chest.
“With your new heart?”
He nodded.
I took hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and peeled it up and over his head, threw it down by my bra. “This heart,” I said, placing a kiss over his scar, “is a good, strong heart that can handle me just fine.”
“I’m sure it will be okay it’s just…”
“You want to take it slow?” I shrugged. “I want to take it slow too. We don’t have to go all the way, not if it’s too soon. We can have some other fun.”
“God, you must think I’m a wimp.” A flash of wounded pride crossed his face.
“There’s nothing wimpy about that package you’ve got in your pants, mister. It’s feeling like a whole lot of hot, hard man to me.”
He laughed. “You always say the right thing, you know that?”
I smiled and pressed my palm over his cock, squeezed through the denim.
His face fell serious. “That feels good. Your hand on me.”
“I can make it feel even better, if you want me to.”
He paused, then nodded. “Yes. That’s what I want.”
I wriggled and slipped between his legs, so mine were folded on the floor and my shoulders were between his thighs. I began to undo the buttons on his jeans. I felt tiny nestled between his long limbs.
“You have…” I trailed off as a sudden panic gripped me.
“What?” He clenched his fists that were resting on his thighs.
I had to just say it. But how could I soften it up? Make it fluffy and socially acceptable? I couldn’t. “You have made yourself come since the operation, though.” I’d done a first-aid course last year with my work. But still…
He touched my hair. “Yes, don’t worry, it works fine, it’s just you, having you here, doing whatever you’re going to do.” He frowned, rubbed his chin. “Even before my op you’d have had my blood pressure going th
rough the roof, Katie. You’re so damn sexy.”
I released the last button on his fly. I wasn’t that sexy, and if he’d masturbated and all was well, then what was the problem? “In that case it will be fine. Just enjoy.” I was impatient to see him, touch him. My mouth was watering. I wanted to taste him. Learn his scent, shape and texture.
He lifted his hips and helped me tug his jeans down. His white CK boxers came down too and his erection sprang free.
My breaths were fast and shallow. His dark cock was long and traced with bulging veins. I couldn’t help but compare him to Matt who had been shorter but thicker. Also, Ruben was circumcised, the shiny, smooth head a perfect flare and the groove beneath deep.
Very gently I took him in my fist and rubbed my thumb through that trench of silky skin beneath his glans. I was rewarded with Ruben’s soft moan.
“Is that okay?” I asked, glancing up at him.
His cheeks were flushed. He nodded.
I tipped forward, swept my tongue over the tip, dipping into his slit and then laving around the head.
“Oh, fuck…” he said, slotting both of his hands into my hair, his fingers just pulling on the roots, tugging my scalp in a way that far from slowed me but turned me on all the more.
I stretched my mouth wide and took the entire head of him in deep, still playing and exploring with my tongue.
“Katie,” he gasped.
I withdrew, traced a particularly thick vein with my thumb. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Hell no.”
I smiled, tickled my fingers through the pubic hair on the base of his belly and took him deep into my mouth. Feeling the smooth tip of his cock running over my palate and hitting the base of my tongue at the back of my throat was glorious.
He groaned in a deliciously decadent way. It was the noise of a man who’d been denied a woman’s mouth for years. I was pleased it was me here with him. More than pleased, I felt privileged.
I withdrew, sank back down. Set up a steady rhythm with my hand and mouth. My pussy was hot, my clit pressing against my knickers, each slight movement rubbing it and making it greedy for stimulation. Ruben’s body was stiff, his legs holding me tight and his belly a sheet of steel. I ran my free hand up to his chest, felt for his heartbeat. It was thudding away, fast and strong.