Hard Choices (12 page)

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Authors: Theresa Ellson

BOOK: Hard Choices
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“Uhhh… older lady at the front desk?”

“Yeah. She thought you were the reason I got divorced,” I explained as I lay back down on my back, enjoying the sun on my face.

“What?”

“Well, she’s pretty observant, and she saw me ogling you like a teenage girl during your interview, and assumed you were my new boy toy,” I chuckled.

“Wow, she’s
psychic!
She was only off by a few weeks. Of course, I had nothing to do with your divorce,” he said quickly. “She knows that, right?”

“I assured her that we’d never met, but she didn’t seem to believe me!”

“Probably because she saw
me
ogling you, too,” he said silkily, sliding over and pulling himself on top of me.


Anyway
,” I said, trying to stay focused as he nuzzled my neck.

“You smell like sunshine, you know that?” he said quietly, in that velvety voice. I shivered.

“You smell like sex,” I answered truthfully.

“Let’s combine the two, shall we?”

I
almost
said, “But my neighbors…” Instead, I looked around my very-private backyard. You really couldn’t see anything. Why not? I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in hard, grinding against him.

“Back pocket,” he said huskily. I reached in and found a condom. If Aaron was one thing, it was
prepared.
I was pretty sure we’d gone through a case of the things over the weekend. I laid it on the ground, in easy reach for him.

Then he pulled himself up as I released him with my legs. He held himself in a prone position, so I could reach down, undo his pants, and pull them down, just enough. While he stayed up like that, I shimmied out of my shorts and panties, tossing them aside with my toe, then pulled my knees up and out of the way, to give him easy access.

But neither of us was quite ready. He pushed against me, not all the way hard quite yet, and ground into my clit. I sighed, and wrapped my arms around him, enjoying the feel of his sun-warmed skin.

“Put your arms back up,” he said.

“What?” I was slightly confused.

“Put your arms on the ground again.”

Still not quite sure what he wanted, I laid my arms on the ground, feeling like someone had just yelled, “Hands up!” in an old movie. He pushed one of my elbows up, and I realized he wanted me to grasp my hands above my head. I complied, still wondering where he was going with this. Then he gripped both my wrists in one of his huge hands, and I couldn’t move. I fought for a few seconds, feeling a little panicked at first.

“Just relax,” he purred, looking me in the eyes. “I’ve got you.” I don’t know if it was his tone, or the thrill of feeling subjugated but safe, but as he started to move against me again, most of his weight on one hand, holding me still with the other, I felt the warm feeling start in my belly. He kept moving against me, grinding on my clit with his cock. I moaned and writhed against him, as much as I could, while letting him hold me. I felt his erection getting bigger and bigger. Finally, he released me and sat up on his knees, managing to kick his pants off, too. Retrieving the condom from where I’d dropped it on the ground, he ripped it open and rolled it on while I lay unmoving on the blanket.

I expected him to lay back on top of me, and enter me gently. Instead, he sat back on his feet, roughly grabbed my hips, and pulled me onto him. I was so startled by the sudden movement, and feeling him enter me so abruptly, I screamed like I had in the garage. But now he knew that sound for arousal, not pain. Holding my hips again, he rammed me onto him, over and over, barely moving his own hips. His grip on me was so tight, I couldn’t have twisted away if I’d wanted to. And I didn’t want to. The angle of his thrusting, with my hips higher than my shoulders, had him hitting points inside me I hadn’t known existed. As he pulled me onto him again and again, I lay like a rag doll.

Then he shifted his hand so he could keep fucking me and rub my clit with his thumb at the same time. It was almost too much. I screamed again as he fucked me and stroked me, still like a rag doll.

Suddenly, he sped up pumping my hips onto his cock. The sound of our bodies slamming into each other was incredibly erotic to me. I looked up at him, and seeing the focus of pleasure on his beautiful face, and his huge arms and cut chest tensed and tight as he pulled me onto him again and again… it pushed me over the edge. No longer a rag doll, my whole body stiffened as the intense orgasm coursed through my body. I arched my back until I was up on my shoulders. Aaron kept pumping as he came, too, slowing down and finally stopping, as he held me onto him, as deep inside me as he could be, as his waves of orgasm pumped through him.

I fell back onto the blanket. He released my hips and collapsed beside me.

After a few minutes, he said, “So, about that broom closet?”

I laughed and said, “I need some water, and some more food. I haven’t burned this many calories since I ran a marathon!” Grabbing my shorts, I slipped them on and stood up.

“Wow, you ran a marathon?” he asked pulling his own shorts on and hopping up beside me. “That’s where you get all that stamina! Hey, do you hear that?”

I cocked my head. Voices. From the yard next door. We each had one-acre lots, but still – it was evident we had just fucked each other silly with others in close proximity.

“We had an audience,” he said leeringly. “Should I explain that I can’t be blamed for wanting to get these tiny little shorts off you?” he wrapped his arms around me and eased his hands up my shorts, squeezing my ass.

“You really are insatiable! Thank god,” I smiled at him. It felt so good to be wanted so much. As long as Aaron and I enjoyed each other, I felt sure I’d never have to compete with a box of DVDs.

“It’s not my fault you’re so fucking hot in your itty-bitty shorts,” he reached down and bit my earlobe playfully. “Now let’s eat! I’m starving!”

We got out the leftovers from the Chinese we’d had the night before and dug in.

“All right,” I said after I’d eased my hunger. “Seriously. Tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ms. Masters?” he asked in a very professional tone.

“There! That’s perfect! Talk to me like that. Can you do that?”

He shrugged, “I can if you can. Can
you
do that?” he smiled that panty-dropping smile at me again.

“I can if you don’t do that!” I laughed.

“Do what?” he said in his sexiest voice.

I smirked at him. “Aaron, really. I
just
got divorced. I have a nice, distant, professional relationship with my co-workers. Only Robert is an actual friend. I don’t know how I’d maintain their respect if they… found out about this,” I finished uncertainly.

Aaron put down the box of Chow Mein he’d been working on. “Lyssa,” he said seriously, “are you good at your job?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “I am great at my job.”

“Do you treat your employees with respect and dignity?”

I felt like I was on the stand in a courtroom. I was seeing Lawyer Aaron for the first time.

“Yes,” I matched his tone. “I always endeavor to treat my employees as I wish to be treated. We are cordial and friendly to one another, while remaining professional.”

In the same ultra-professional voice, he asked, “Then why would they give a shit who you’re fucking?”

That statement, said in such a serious voice, was so incongruous, I burst out laughing. I laughed a lot around Aaron. I liked that.

“OK, fair point,” I said, “But I still would rather keep my private life private, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all. I actually feel the same way. So at work, we’ll be cordial and professional, but not overly friendly. Right?”

“Right.”

“Great. Now let’s get dressed. We’ve got enough time to go for a hike on Tubb’s Hill, come back here, fuck each other’s brains out again, eat dinner, and get a decent night’s sleep. I’ve got to get up early. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I start a new job tomorrow.”

I faked surprise and said, “No, really? Congratulations! I hear your new co-worker is one sexy bitch.”

“That she is,” he said standing up. “Now come on, let’s go.”

Chapter 13

 

Aaron’s first day at work finally arrived.

Jean walked into my office, with a dazed smile on her face. Right behind her was the reason for her dopey grin: Aaron, looking like a billboard model in his suit.

“Lyssa, you remember Aaron Sellers, right?” she said a little breathlessly. Poor Jean. I had a sneaking feeling Aaron had turned on the charm to cause a distraction, in case I couldn’t hold it together.

“Of course!” I stood up and came around the desk. “Welcome aboard, Aaron. It’s so nice to see you again,” I held out my hand. He gave me a very professional handshake, but his eyes flashed knowingly.

“Thank you. It’s nice to see you again, too, Lyssa.”

“So Jean is giving you the office tour?” he nodded. This was standard with all new hires. Jean was good at making people feel welcome. “Well, if there’s anything I can help you with,” I was really keeping it together well. I was proud of myself. “Please, don’t hesitate to ask.” It was my standard welcome speech, so nothing in it should have alarmed Jean – except that she was looking between Aaron and me sharply. I released Aaron’s hand and said, “I hope you enjoy your summer with us.”

“I’m sure I will,” Aaron smiled at me, then turned to Jean and held out his hand to indicate “ladies first,” which gave him time to throw me a wink. I rolled my eyes at him, grinning like an idiot, and sat back down at my desk.

Ten minutes later, a text came through:
Well DONE, Ms. Masters! I don’t think they suspect a thing!

I responded to Aaron with:
We’ll see. Let’s just stick to the plan, shall we?

The planned worked well. Very well. Aaron was busy on his side of the office, and honestly, I didn’t see him much at work. But I’d get at least one text a day telling me how hot I looked, and another one solidifying plans for that night.

Every. Night.

We’d both go home and have dinner, and then Aaron would come over to my house.

“How are you even walking? Or sitting? Or
running
?” Molly asked me over coffee at my house one Saturday morning a few weeks into the summer. I laughed, mostly because she was dead serious. “No, really, Lyssa. I mean J.J. and I have a great sex life. But every night? Two or three – ”

“Or four,” I said innocently as I sipped my coffee.

“Jesus,
four times
? Seriously! How are you even upright?!”

I laughed again. “I’ll tell you this, Molly. I haven’t slept so well in years. I’m still getting out the door for my morning run, too. Hell, I have to, to keep up my stamina!”

“What do you guys… you know… talk about?” she was genuinely curious, and I could understand why. Our age difference – and the difference in the stages of our lives – was monumental.

“Movies, books, a lot of stuff. Nothing heavy. If we talk about relationships, it’s in really general terms. Never… you know, dancing around our relationship. We’ve never said it, but we both know this is a summer fling. And just the fact that we’ve never talked about it… honestly, it takes some of the pressure off. Like it’s not really even important enough to talk through, you know?”

“I do know,” she nodded. “Remember my Tuesday Night fling I told you about?”

“Yes! Still reeling from that revelation!”

Molly laughed. “Well, we did talk about it. But it was a very short conversation: ‘So every Tuesday night, no strings attached, right? And if one of us starts seeing someone else, we end this, OK?’ Then we were done. What? Why is your brow furrowed?”

“Hmmm… the seeing someone else part. That hadn’t occurred to me.”

“Lyssa, when would he have
time
?”

I laughed again. “Yeah, good point! You know what? I’m just going to enjoy it while it lasts, damn it. I spent so much energy trying to keep a marriage together, I want to spend
zero
energy on something for a change.”

“Good for you!” Molly held up her coffee mug for a toast. “Here’s to boinking the hell out of a hot young thing!”

I laughed and clinked mugs with her. “Hear, hear!”

 

***

 

One late afternoon, about two weeks into Aaron’s summer with the firm, he popped his head in my office. “Excuse me, Lyssa? Do you have a moment?” I glanced over and realized that Jean was not at her desk, and the daylights in the office were off. I realized it was after five, so the staff had all gone home. Even our CPAs didn’t work long hours – especially not in the summer. There was a good chance we were alone in the office. A slow smile spread across my face. “Sure, Aaron. How can I help you?”

Aaron shook his head. “You keep smiling
that
smile at me, and we are sooooo going to break your ‘not at work’ rule.”

Instantly I felt a wave of heat surge through me. I’d had more sex in the last two weeks than I’d had in the last ten years… and I just kept wanting more. But not at work. It honestly scared me. I needed to keep that world separate from my work life. I needed to keep control somewhere in my life. “Not likely,” I smirked at him. You get to leave in two months; I’ll be here until I retire. I need to maintain some semblance of professionalism.”

I expected Aaron to back off. He’d kept his promise about being professional. But I saw the same look in his eye I suspected I had.

“Are you wearing a skirt?” he said in a low voice.

“Yes,” I almost whispered.

“So all I have to do is get beneath your desk and I can make you squirm?”

I felt my heart rate go up. I knew I was breathing hard, and my lips suddenly felt swollen. I felt a moist rush in the part of my body Aaron was offering to service.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

That didn’t help. I
wanted
him to do it. But it was a line I could not cross. A line I did not want to cross. I knew why. Aaron would leave, and I’d be left looking around the office thinking, “That’s where he licked me into the best orgasm I ever had,” or “That’s the door he fucked me up against.” I didn’t want that mixed with work.

Instead of whipping off my panties and throwing my legs around his gorgeous face, I said, “Be late for dinner tonight. Come home with me. Now.”

I hadn’t even finished the second sentence before he was moving. “I’ll meet you at your house in ten minutes.” And he was out the front door before I had even exhaled.

Usually, at the end of the day, I’d straighten my desk, check my to-do list for the next day, etc. I didn’t do any of that. I looked out the window and saw Robert’s car still there. I exhaled. Wow. That was close. I picked up the phone and dialed his extension. “Hey, Robert. Looks like you’re the last man standing.”

“No problem. I’ll lock up. Good night, Lyssa.”

Aaron missed dinner entirely that night.

***

Our summer progressed like that. Some nights, we just couldn’t wait. Other nights, he’d text me warning me that he had to linger over drinks with his father’s cronies, or dessert with his grandmother.

But every night, he came to me.

What amazed me was that it was
always
good. We never seemed to have an off night. We enjoyed each other, laughed, talked, snacked and drank wine… and then Aaron went home. And I went to sleep, alone, happy and sated.

On weekends, Aaron was busy with his family, and I was busy, too. Summer in our town meant weekends on the boat, BBQs, and time at the lake.

Suddenly, it also meant putting off all my friends’ attempts to fix me up. Fortunately, Alan and Molly ran interference boldly telling people, “She
said
she’s not ready. It’s only been a few months!” while smirking at me behind people’s backs.

Alan had actually given me the same ground rules as Robert, with an admission: “Oh I
want
to hear all about Mr. Sellers… but I see his parents at a lot of social events, and I can not be thinking about what a great lay their son is. I’m just glad you’re happy, weirdo,” Alan had said, and kissed the top of my head.

“The next person who goes out of their way to tell me how ‘great’ I look is going to get a drink in their face,” I grumbled to Molly and J.J. one Saturday afternoon at a friend’s party.

Molly and J.J. exchanged a look of shock then burst out laughing.

“OK! I know!” I shook my head. “Everyone is trying to be supportive since my husband dumped me. They probably think I’m feeling fragile or something. I know I should just take the compliment, but
everyone
keeps saying it – what?” I suddenly realized that Molly and J.J. were shaking with laughter. “What?!” I demanded.

“Lyssa,” J.J. said, trying to get a grip, “you
do
look great. You look better than I’ve ever seen you look.” He looked at me knowingly, but I still wasn’t getting it.

“Honey, you have a glow about you these days,” Molly said wryly. I must have still looked confused because Molly lowered her voice and said, “People may not be able to completely put their finger on
why
you look so great these days, but I think it’s safe to say it’s because you’re… ahem…
satisfied
as of late.” J.J. snickered behind his drink.

I felt my face flush bright red. Everyone could
tell?!

“No, it’s OK!” Molly rushed to reassure me after she correctly read my expression. “Honestly, no one has figured it out. No one. Which is surprising, really,” J.J. nodded in agreement. “I think people just think divorce really agrees with you.”

“Yet they insist on trying to set me up with their brothers, cousins, workmates… John tried to set me up with his father, Molly. His
father
! He’s in his late sixties!”

J.J. whistled. “That’s ridiculous,” he agreed with me. “Plus, I’ve seen John’s dad in the locker room at the gym.” He grimaced. “Not well endowed.”

Molly and I both almost spit our drinks out. We knew J.J. was kidding, but he had impeccable timing with comments like that. I always seemed to spray drink out of my mouth after one of J.J.’s zingers.

“Classy, ladies,” J.J. said, without missing a beat.

I suddenly realized something: I was enjoying myself a lot more these days. A lot more. I wasn’t worried about getting home to kids. I wasn’t thinking about where Scott was, and if he needed dinner or anything. For the first time in my life, even my social life was mine and mine alone. I really liked it.

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