Hard Choices (10 page)

I was right.

With his face between my legs, he kneaded the backs of my thighs, and kissed his way down the inside. My breath was coming faster now, with anticipation as much as arousal. I felt like a virgin again, like it was my first time (except I knew I wouldn’t end up disappointed and confused when it was all over). I tried to stay still, but I found myself writhing on the table, trying to push myself into Aaron’s face.

“Patience, Lyssa, patience,” he kissed my thigh again. “We’ll get there, I promise.” I moaned at his tone. That smooth, velvety voice was enough to get me off.

Finally, he moved his lips up my thigh, barely running his lips across my down. “I like the landing strip, by the way,” he said huskily, “that is
so
sexy.” The vibration of his speech that near my clit was making me crazy. I felt swollen already.

His tongue barely, just barely, laved my lips. I shivered. He moved up to my clit… and I went nuts. He
really
knew what he was doing. He worked my clit in exactly the right rhythm. I moaned and moved with him. It wasn’t long before I came. Convulsively. Violently. My body moved like it was being battered by ocean waves as the orgasm coursed through me. I screamed, really screamed. It was too much. His tongue on my super-sensitive clit was more than I could take. I tried to push away, but he hooked his arms around my legs and pulled me back to his mouth, working my clit some more. I thrashed around on the table as the next orgasm came.

Finally, finally, he released me. I rolled over on my side and pulled my legs up, laying in the fetal position on the table, unable to move except for the aftershocks from my orgasms. He stood up, smiling smugly at me. Then I remembered something: last night, when he’d fucked me in the garage after making me come so hard… that had been amazing. I wanted to feel that again.

“Fuck me. Now.” I said, panting. I didn’t need to tell him again. He dropped his pants and kicked them off. “Take your shirt off, too,” I wanted to see that amazing body pounding into me. I started to roll over onto my back, but he stopped me. Still lying in the fetal position, I lay there as he rolled his condom on. With one hand on the small of my back and one hand hooked between my knees, he pushed into me. I thought I’d be too sore to enjoy it. I was wrong.

I was so swollen and wet, I wasn’t even sure there’d be enough friction for him. But with my legs closed, it was much easier to tighten up the muscles in my core. I grabbed his cock with my inner muscles as he pumped into me slowly, deeply. I knew I couldn’t come again. There was just no way. But I felt him press every inch of himself into me, and I watched his body, the movement of his hips, the look on his face. He picked up his pace as he got closer.

I lay there, feeling every inch of every stroke. It was like my body had been asleep my whole life. Nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing had ever been so mind-numbingly pleasurable. I didn’t want it to end; I couldn’t take any more.

When he finally reached his orgasm, he threw back his head and gave a guttural cry. It was so primal, so animalistic, and he was fucking me so hard and so deep, somehow, I came again. He thrust himself into me hard, head thrown back, muscles tensed, gripping my legs and my hip as his orgasm pulsed through him. Finally he shuddered, and collapsed forward, his forehead on my ribs, his arms thrown over me.

“God. Damn. Woman.” He muttered. “You
are
trying to kill me.”

“Well, I’m the one lying on a hard slab of wood,” I laughed.

“Oh, sorry.” He stood up, a little shakily.

I slid off the table, and stumbled to the couch in the living room. I was afraid
I’d
leave a wet spot, though, so I grabbed a blanket and wrapped myself up. Aaron looked around, saw another blanket in a basket on the floor, and wrapped himself up, too.

“You’re going to have a lot of laundry,” he leered at me.

Suddenly, I remembered the blouse Aaron had come all over that morning. After Scott had shown up, I’d completely forgotten about it. I started to giggle, thinking about trying to explain
that
stain. “Yeah, thanks for ruining my blouse this morning,” I said ruefully.

Aaron just shrugged. “You can get another one. It was worth it, wasn’t it?”

“Hell, YES,” I said emphatically.

We lay for a few more minutes, catching our breath, enjoying the high.

“What time is it?” Aaron asked.

“Um,” I twisted around to look at the clock on the wall. “Almost seven.”

“Sweet. We have time for that movie. Listen,” he said, leaning forward, “I have plans with my family tomorrow, but I’m free all day Sunday. Can we… get together?” he smiled unabashedly.

“Yeah. That’d be fun. I need a day to heal, anyway,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Jesus, Aaron, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, let alone go for a run!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you in shape!” He hopped up and grabbed his clothes. “Where’s your TV? Downstairs?” I nodded. “OK, I’ll meet you down there,” he said as he headed into the bathroom.

I hadn’t put much thought into what to wear around Aaron. I decided on some comfy pajamas. I cleaned up in my bathroom – gently, barely touching my swollen, tender parts – then threw on my favorite, super-soft baby dolls PJs. Comfy, and they didn’t scream “my husband had no interest in me sexually,” like my flannel winter PJs did. I chuckled to myself, thinking again of Scott’s puce face. Oh well. His loss.

I woke up Saturday feeling sated like I never had before. Sex, hiking, sex while hiking. I had slept even better than the night before. Of course, I’d made it all the way to my bed last night. I’d sent Aaron home around nine, after deciding to text each other Sunday morning.

“I have to head back to school, but not first thing in the morning,” he’d leered at me. “You heal up tomorrow, and I’ll make sure Sunday is a day for you to remember,” he’d leaned in and bitten my earlobe, ever so gently, filling my body with heat again.

“Go, now!” I’d playfully pushed him toward the door. “I need to sleep. And rest. And give my body time to adjust to the shock of being used again!”

“All right. I’ll see you Sunday.”

Now I rolled over in bed, still feeling the deliciousness of Aaron’s body, my body, and what our bodies could do together. For the first time in… I couldn’t remember how long… instead of hopping out of bed at the crack of dawn, I rolled over and fell back asleep.

I woke up to the doorbell ringing. I looked over at my alarm clock. Ten am?! It took me a minute to get my bearings, and then I heard knocking and Kyle’s voice calling, “Mom? Mom! Are you OK?”

I jumped out of bed and ran to the front door. Throwing it open, my son almost fell into my arms. “Jesus, Mom! What were you doing? Were you still in bed? You never sleep in. Are you sick?” I shook my head no, but before I could say a word, Kyle blanched and he asked, “Are you… are you alone?”

Goddamn Scott. He just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Kyle come in, so I can close the door,” I said sternly. He skulked in, and I closed the door, not quite slamming it. “Yes, I am alone. But as you can see, I am not dressed. Get yourself a cup of coffee while I throw some clothes on.”

I stomped up the stairs, fuming at my ex-husband for ratting me out. Fuming at my son for invading my privacy. And just generally pissed that my euphoria was gone. Asshats.

I threw on sweats and came back into the kitchen. The coffee had been sitting since five-thirty, though, so I decided I deserved some fresh brew. Kyle sat silently while I set up the coffee machine again, acutely aware he had pissed me off, and knowing better than to say anything.

“So,” I turned around and leaned against the counter with my arms crossed across my chest. “I take it your dad called you.” It was a statement, not a question.

Kyle turned bright red, but he said, “Mom, it’s not… he’s not one of my friends, is he?”

“No, Kyle. You don’t know him. You’ve never met him. I doubt you ever will.” Fucking Scott!

“Is he really… you know, is he young?”

I shrugged. “He’s younger than I am.”

Kyle looked so appalled, it would have been funny had I not been livid and barely containing it.

“Kyle, look, I am pissed at your father, and I will deal with him. But you need to understand something: you don’t live here anymore. You need to respect my privacy. You can’t come over here pounding on the door because you feel a compulsion to talk to me. I am an adult.
You
are an adult. Call me. Text me. Make sure you hear back from me before you come bursting in over here, got it?”

He nodded. “Did you really make Dad give you his key?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I? He doesn’t live here anymore, Kyle! I don’t have a key to his place, do I?”

“No,” he said quietly, “that’s a fair point.” We were both quiet for a minute. “Are you going to get my key back, too?”

“No,” I took a deep breath and uncrossed my arms, bracing myself against the counter. “But we need to agree that you’re not going to barge in over here. Since you moved out, I’ve always respected your privacy, haven’t I?” he nodded. “Now it’s time for you to reciprocate, got it?” He nodded again.

“Is he… coming over soon? Do you need me to leave?” he looked so sheepish and so uncomfortable, I walked over and hugged his head, dropping a kiss into his hair.

“No, honey. I don’t need you to leave. But thanks for asking. Now,” I walked over to the fridge, “I am going to make myself some breakfast. Would you like some?”

“Will you make home fries?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes!” I laughed. “I will make home fries. But get off your ass and help me dice potatoes. Come on! I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

As we cooked together, and he filled me in on his life, I realized this was the first time we’d talked since our Big Talk about Amber and moving on.

“Kyle, can I ask you something?”

He shrugged, “Sure, Mom – but I reserve the right to uncomfortably change the subject,” he looked at me pointedly.

“Fair enough,” I chuckled. “Since our talk about Amber, and moving on, has it… did that help you at all? Do you feel like you got some closure?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “You know what the hard part is? The ‘just being sad’ part that you told me to try. Every time I try to imagine my life with Amber, the life I thought we’d have, it… it hurts so much, I… I have to change the channel in my brain, you know?”

I did know. I’d done that a lot over the years – whenever I started thinking about what I might have done with my life, it hurt to think that I’d let myself down, then it hurt to think about never having met my kids. I was so grateful to get this second chance, to live life on my terms.

“Well, it takes time, Kyle. Grieving is a process, not an event.”

“Even that helped, though, Mom,” he turned toward me. “You helped me understand why I was still so pissed at her. I feel like she stole something from me. I know that’s nuts, but I think that’s it. I feel like she used me, and when she was ready to move on, she just dumped me without thinking about me at all.”

I stared at my son, shocked and amazed and impressed. Kyle had always been the stoic one. Becca was the responsible older sister. Danny was the impulsive baby of the family. In the months since my divorce, I’d had more in-depth, real conversations with all my kids than I ever had before – but mostly with Kyle.

“You know what, Kyle? If, six months ago, someone had told me that getting divorced from my husband would bring me and my son so much closer together,” I shook my head, disbelieving, “I mean, talk about unforeseen consequences. Thank you, Sarah, for moving in down the street four years ago!”

Kyle laughed ruefully. “She and her ex-husband sold their house already,” Kyle confided.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him around, but I didn’t really think about it much,” I said thoughtfully. “I was
so
glad he didn’t try to talk to me after Sarah and your dad hooked up. I never cared for him.” I’d really only met them a few times, at neighborhood barbecues. He’d seemed dour and unpleasant, and she’d seemed mousy and inconsequential. I hadn’t pursued a friendship there.

“Dad says he hit Sarah. A lot.”

“Oh my god!” I was appalled and felt an instant rush of compassion for Sarah. “That poor woman! She really traded up when she got your dad, didn’t she?”

Kyle shook his head, “Mom, I swear you amaze me. Aren’t you supposed to hate her?”

I shrugged. “I know, I know. But there are at least three people in the world who are happier because your dad and I are divorced. I don’t hate her. I never did. I never even felt any animosity toward her. And now, knowing she was trapped in an abusive marriage, it just makes me happier that she got away. And I’m glad she makes your dad happy.”

“Do you think they’ll stay together?”

“I have no idea, Kyle. How long was she married?”

“Um, a long time, I guess. Her kids are still in high school, though. Actually, one is even younger.”

“Do they live with your dad, too?”

“Yup. Sarah’s husband didn’t save his temper just for her, unfortunately.”

Wow. That put Scott in a whole new light. He was a knight in shining armor! He’d saved that whole family – and then it hit me. Scott always needed to be the savior. He’d saved me from taking care of my entire family; when I’d gotten pregnant, there’d been no discussion. Of course we’d get married. Of course we’d raise a family together. As long as I’d been the stay-at-home mom, raising his young kids, he’d been in his element. But then I went to school. I started a career. And I didn’t need him anymore. Poor Scott. I’d taken his life’s purpose away from him, and I hadn’t even realized it.

Kyle and I finished cooking, eating and cleaning up, then he took off. After our talk, I was glad to have the day to myself to ruminate on my new-found understanding of my ex-husband. It didn’t change things, of course. I was still glad to be divorced from Scott. But I realized that, since he’d left, I had mentally chipped away at all his contributions to our home, our family and our life together. I really hadn’t been fair to him. I hadn’t solely blamed him for our marriage’s slow death, but I had blamed it on his personal limitations. Now I realized, if I’d been paying a little more attention to him, and what he needed, we could have taken a whole different path.

Oh well. No use crying over spilled milk. It’s entirely possible I could have done everything “right” and we still would have ended up divorced. We were so young when we married. I was not the same person I was at nineteen, but Scott was the same person he was at twenty. C’est la vie.

***

By Sunday morning, I was ready for a respite from the soup that was my brain. I’d scrubbed the house the day before, thinking about what Kyle and I had talked about, and about what my marriage had really been, rather than just what I
thought
it had been. By six o’clock, I’d plopped down in front of the TV, happy to veg out and think about absolutely nothing.

I woke up at my normal time, and hopped on my treadmill. It’s still dark at 5:30 am in March. But I enjoyed my hour on the treadmill by looking forward to seeing Aaron again.

I finished my run, and went through my normal Sunday morning routine… except for the thrill of anticipation every time I thought about Aaron. I doubted he was an early riser, but I was anxious to hear from him. Finally, a little after nine am, there was a text on my phone:

Are you wearing panties?

Yes

Why did you bother? Or wait – are they the kind of panties I want to see?

I smiled as I texted back:

I don’t know – do you like thongs?

There was a pause, and I swear I could see that slow smile spread across his face. Then he texted:

Leave the door unlocked and wait for me in your bedroom. Don’t start without me.

I walked down the half flight of stairs to my front door and threw open the bolt. Then I went upstairs, back into my bedroom, and rifled through my underwear drawer, looking for the sexiest thing I owned. I had bought a nipple-less bra and matching thong years ago, in a futile effort to spice things up with Scott. Somehow, I knew Aaron would appreciate the red lace set in a way Scott never had.

I paced in my bedroom, antsy while I waited for Aaron. When I heard the door open, I whipped around and faced my bedroom door. Aaron charged through it like a man on a mission. Or more like a bull in rut. He was already taking his shirt off as he came through the door.

“Aar – “ before I could even finish saying his name, he had his pants stripped off and had thrown me down on the bed. Without saying a word, he slipped on his condom and slid into me. He hadn’t spoken, hadn’t kissed me yet. He hadn’t even looked me in the eye. He pumped into me, burying his face in my neck. I slipped my hands down his side and grabbed his ass in both my hands, pulling him into me as hard as I could.

Finally, he pulled back and smiled at me. I looked at him questioningly and he said, “That was all I could think about since Friday night. I just wanted to be inside you,” he pushed deep into me as he said the last, and I gasped a little at the sensation of taking all of him. He grinned again, “And I’m not going to last long if you keep… doing… that…” I gasped with each thrust and gripped his ass tighter, pulling him into me.

It didn’t take either of us long, and I shuddered only a few seconds before Aaron’s body went taut as he finally came, then collapsed and rolled off me.

After a few minutes, I looked over at him, naked and beautiful, with his forearm thrown across his eyes. He felt my gaze and turned to look at me, grinning devilishly again. “Good morning, Aaron,” I said brightly. “How are you?” We both started laughing as I added, “Would you like some coffee? Maybe some breakfast?”

He actually looked a little apologetic and said, “I hope I wasn’t too, um, quick, for you,” he grimaced and added, “but I promise that will only be the first time today, and I’ll slow down.”

I nodded and said, “It better be only the first time today. I abstained from Big Ed all day yesterday.”

“Aww, poor Ed,” he said sarcastically. “I think he needed a rest anyway, don’t you?”

“I really do,” I said quietly.

Aaron kept his promise, and we spent a leisurely Sunday eating, chatting, watching some baseball on TV… and fucking of course. Fucking all day.

I finally said goodbye to Aaron around five, as he headed back to his parents’ for dinner, and planned to drive back to school that night.