Page 131 of Grown-Up Second Chance

Chapter Thirty-Seven

We parted that night with a long, lingering kiss in front of my cabin before we reluctantly let go.

As much as I wanted to have more, we were exhausted.

The next day, my last in the Badlands, we spent in a leisurely way: time apart while he wrote, time together where we talked more in depth and more honestly about our pasts than we had before. Neither one of us had achieved perfection in our relationships. It probably wasn’t possible with two intrinsically flawed human beings. The best we could do was be kind to each other and love each other the best we knew how.

Although neither of us had yet to say that word.

Love.

We still weren’t sure enough of each other to say it.

He barbecued some chicken which we ate with fresh corn we’d found in a small market. Then we talked some more until the mosquitos began to have more of a meal than we’d had.

“How about I bring a bottle of wine to your cabin in a little bit,” he said. “I’ve got a nice California red one of my students’ fathers gave me for a thank you. It seems to suit this occasion.”

“Okay,” I said. Would wine in my cabin lead to anything else, or would it just be wine?

On the off chance it could lead to something more, I changed my underwear into something a little sexier. It was a small step, one grade better than granny underpants and a functional bra. Itchy lace had been denied entry into my drawers for well over a decade.

But maybe it was time to try it on again.

It would depend on how the night went.

Joe showed up on my doorstep, also looking freshly scrubbed. He had the wine in one hand, a box of chocolates in the other.

We kept the pretense of two friends chatting over a glass of wine and chocolates going for a little while. Then I got tired of it.

“Well, are we going to do this?” I asked impatiently.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Impatient Di. Always wants it now.”

“Now? I’ve wanted this since I was eighteen. You’re the one who is slow on the uptake.”

“Guilty,” he said, putting down his wine.

He stood and helped me to my feet. “Yes,” he said. “We’re going to do this.”

The kiss started slowly, but soon our bodies were pressed together with need, and our hands pulled each other closer. He disentangled, and we caught our breaths.

“Let me look at you,” he said. “I want to see you.”

“Naked?” I squeaked.

“Naked.”

He unbuttoned the first button of my blouse, his gaze never leaving mine. Somehow that was sexier than the undressing going on. Soon he had all the buttons undone and pushed the blouse from my shoulders, laying it across a nearby chair.

It took every strength of will I had not to cover up my disappointing bra. At least it was covering up my sagging breasts.

He unhooked the bra and draped it over the blouse.

My nipples turned into hard nibs, and it wasn’t from the cold.

“Relax,” he said as he lifted my breasts. “You’re beautiful.” Then he used his mouth to nibble and suck the tender flesh.

I moaned as need filled me. The man obviously had skills the boy had probably lacked.

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