The Sex Education of M.E. (5 page)

“So you don’t remember asking to be my Uber?” My eyebrow rose in question. He smiled slowly, like a mischievous child. Then his expression shifted.

“Husband didn’t say, ‘Sweetheart, I’m home’ each time he entered the house?” His lips smirked.

Actually, he didn’t do that. In fact, most nights he’d walk in the door and go directly to our room to change out of his suit. He’d come down for dinner and mention his day. He didn’t ask about mine and when I wanted to speak, he was too distracted to listen. Calling me
dear
had been Nate’s patronizing way of dismissing me. Other tender terms were out of the question. The memory hit me hard, and the guilt at the negativity made me feel like a bad person. The memory caught up to me and my eyes filled with liquid.

“Don’t mind me.” I waved a hand dismissively. Crying
before
sex would certainly make an impression, but I already convinced myself I’d dug enough of a hole that I’d never see Merek naked or again.

“I’m just a silly, frustrated woman.” Blinking rapidly, I took another sip of my second wine. The taste was suddenly bitter and I understood why MatchMe had timed arrangements. I was so awkward, even I wanted to get away from me in fifteen minutes or less.

Merek sat forward again, his hands clasped as his elbows braced on his knees.

“Want to finish that?” he offered, nodding in the direction of my wine. The dismissal evident. Merek really was finished with me.

“I’m good,” I said, and his head shot up to stare at me for a long moment. Dark eyes danced while the slight lines of skin around them crinkled. My stomach fluttered. His good looks left me breathless. For the millionth time, I wondered if his lips would be tender or rough.

He stood abruptly, dropped two twenties on the table, and I followed him. As we sauntered through the tables, making our way through the main restaurant area to the front door, an older gentleman smiled at me. Noticeably older with full onset white hair and over-tanned skin, he muttered “Lucky man” as we passed him and Merek’s hand made contact with my lower back. I always thought this touch was a tender show of possessiveness. If only that were true with Merek. I smiled kindly in response to the elder man’s comment. It was sweet, but deflating. He was exactly the type of man I attracted. Older.

Suddenly feeling ancient, I prepared to part ways with Merek.

“Where’s your car?” he asked and I pointed in the general direction of the side street.

“I’ll walk you,” he offered. Raising a hand, I decided to end the misery of my evening.

“I’ve got it. Thanks for the drink.” Awkward once again, I didn’t know whether to stick out a hand to shake his or to reach in for an air hug. Instead, I did neither. I just pointed over my shoulder, motioning the direction of my car. I turned and took a step when his hand hit my back again.

“I said, I’ll walk with you. I’m going that way, anyway.”

I was convinced, she didn’t see what I saw. While she wasn’t young like my typical partners, she was something. Drawn to her, I wasn’t ready to let her go. In fact, my curiosity was piqued. She rattled off her list of hard limits, and I nearly lost it in my shorts as the list continued. I wouldn’t admit whether I’d practiced most of what she listed, but the mere idea that someone sweet looking in a yellow sundress knew what most of those things were, was shocking.

To say she seemed innocent was an overstatement. If I had to guess, nerves made her ramble. I’d learned from Todd that her husband had been dead for a year, but I’d forgotten in the playfulness of calling her “my dear.” The expression of confusion at the term twisted to a hint of hurt and I cursed myself for asking about him. I didn’t want her to think of someone else when she sat across from me, especially someone who evidently caused her pain. It was one of the reasons I preferred the younger, unattached girls. No ex-husband or deceased one to contend with from the past. Occasionally, an old lover, maybe an ex-boyfriend, but that’s where I came into play. I relieved the memory. Young, free, and emotionally unavailable – that’s how I liked them.

Emme was definitely emotional. It didn’t escape me that her eyes filled with tears and her sad expression chipped at my heart. Her openness was refreshing, but inside her was a closed up woman. Frustrated, that had been her word. A plan slowly formed in my mind, but I couldn’t get a read on how receptive she’d be to it. This wasn’t some MatchMe arrangement I planned to present to her. This was more.

We walked in silence down the side street. The irony of the location wasn’t lost on me. She had parked in front of the apartment. I had two choices here: a road well-traveled would mean saying goodnight and never thinking of her again, but the unchartered path intrigued me. When she stopped on the sidewalk, midway between the apartment entrance and a parked car, she spun toward me. Her mouth opened, but before she could speak, I cut her off.

“I’d like to make a proposal.” Her blue eyes twinkled. The bright reflection of the setting sun softened the blue.

“I wonder, if you’d come inside?” My hand directed her attention to the building on my right. Her eyes narrowed for a moment before opening wide.

“You’re not an ax-murderer, are you?” she blurted. Her face turned a sweet shade of pink, highlighting her subtle tan.

“Last time I checked, no,” I smirked. “I also don’t do whips, chains, spanking, or plugging. I don’t own any gray ties. No restraints. No flogger either. Did I miss anything?”

Her eyes opened wider, if that were possible, and then she laughed. My heart melted.

“Oh my gosh. How did you…I mean…you memorized…you actually listened to me?” The surprise in her tone emphasized the shock on her face. My first thought was:
why wouldn’t I listen
? My second recognized she hadn’t been heard very often. It was a shame. One skill I prided myself on was listening and observing the reaction of women.

Emme intrigued me, but I prepared for her to turn away. Older women weren’t interested in playing games and the second I had her in the door, she might regret the decision. She’d be talking futures and children and coordinating schedules. I didn’t want any of that. I just wanted one night with her.

Continuing to stare at me, her eyes dewed over for a moment and then she blinked. The mask returned and she looked away instantly.

“So, would you like to come?” I nodded in the direction of the apartment. The innuendo was intentional

“I’m sorry.” Blue eyes hammered me to the sidewalk.

“Inside. Will you come inside with me?” While she hesitated for a moment, she stepped toward me and I had my answer. She was intrigued, as well.

The inside of his second-floor apartment was very masculine. The living room had a black leather couch with a glass coffee table. A flat screen television hung on the wall with a series of cables and wires running under it to a gaming system. For a moment, I wondered if I’d entered the home of a grown man-child. Boys and their toys, but there was something else that caught my attention. A shelf on the wall had an array of photos. I attempted to step toward it when Merek cut me off.

“Here’s my proposition,” he started and I stopped. “Let’s not make things complicated. I think we both know where we want this to end, but let’s just take our time to clarify things,” he said.

A sigh of relief seeped out of me as I wasn’t certain what I was doing or how to do what I wanted. My body was wound tight but another part of me literally dripped with desire. There was no doubt what I wanted: him. His body exuded sex. The way he quirked his lip. The sparkle in his mossy brown eyes. The hint of mischief in his expressions. The scruff on his jaw. It all begged for my attention, and he had it. My body hummed with need that was almost audible. My problem: I didn’t know how to seduce him.

Being here was the craziest thing I’d ever done.

While I’d met my husband at a college party, and left with him that first night, we didn’t have sex until many nights later. We went on a real date first. But tonight felt different, wild and reckless, yet not dangerous. I was not frightened of Merek per se. I was terrified I’d make a fool of myself. Before I knew it, my body pressed against the wall with Merek’s body holding me in place. His hands were above my head on both sides. My breath came heavy, forcing my breasts to brush ever so lightly against Merek’s dress shirt. The sound was a tender rustling, but all I heard was my erect nipples against my satiny bra, crying out to press against him, naked.

“I thought you said, take our time?” The words tumbled out of my mouth on a whisper. My eyes were trained on his lips. He twisted them and it snapped my attention to his full face.

“I have my own hard limit, and it’s important.” His voice took on a smoky harshness that teased but warned me. “No kissing on the mouth.”

This startled me enough that my lingering eyes on his jaw shot up to his eyes. The sparkle had flicked out. Those eyes told me he was earnest. I felt like I might be in a scene from
Pretty Woman
, only the roles reversed. A kiss was too intimate, or something like that, I remembered Julia Roberts saying. Merek set the same standard. Kissing would be intimate. This night would not involve emotion. It was like he read my mind, or at least I hoped he could because I wanted him. This could work. Kissing would be too personal.
Keep kissing out
, my mind whispered. I could do that. If there was an emotional burn, I’d have to deal with the fire afterward. Right now, I wanted to play with the flame.

“All right,” I swallowed as a thick hand came to my cheek and caressed the skin so tenderly goosebumps rose across my skin. It had been a long time since I’d been touched in this manner. In a way that hints of things desired. He slipped his fingers down to my neck, his thumb cascaded over my throat before his index finger dipped along the top of my dress, over the curve of my breast. My hands had been at my side, but inched behind me, forcing my breasts forward for his attention. His mouth slowly curved upward. He read my body language.

Surprising me further, his mouth crashed to my neck and sucked delicately down the angle of my throat to the juncture of my shoulder.

“I thought you said no kissing,” I whimpered when he suddenly nipped my neck hard enough that my knees buckled and my sex pulsed.

“No kissing on the lips. Everywhere else is fair game,” he groaned into my skin, sensitive and alive with the contact of his mouth. Prickling sparks covered me and I vibrated with the need to touch him in response. My hands followed their own will and rubbed up his thick arms to his broad shoulders. While one of his hands remained braced above me, he lowered the other to wrap around my back and tugged me against him. The moment our bodies collided, I ignited.

“Oh God,” I moaned at the very nearness of him. I hadn’t touched another man, aside from Nate, in twenty years. The feel of this one was so different. Refreshing and exciting in a way I shouldn’t have compared in my head. In fact, I didn’t want Nate anywhere near what I was doing. My mind needed to remain clear in order for my body to stay in this game. Merek’s responding hum returned me to the present.

“Your proposition?” I questioned as his mouth worked its way to removing the material over my shoulder. His teeth covered the strap of my dress and tugged it down my chilled arm.

“I propose we only think of each other and tonight,” he muttered as his lips continued the sparking attack along my collarbone. “Tell me what you want. For tonight.”

Remaining silent, I reveled in the tenderness of his kisses over the surface of my skin. The tiny suction and moist lips, washing my skin, like a baptism.

“I’d like to offer you a deal,” he muttered into the crease of my shoulder. “Sex. No strings attached.”

Hyperaware of his presence and making assumptions about his body, my concentration faltered.

“Emme?” he questioned, snapping me out of images of his bare chest and firm length.

“Yes,” I exhaled, wantonly, until both his hands lowered to my hips. Suddenly, I stiffened. He couldn’t touch the soft rolls and ridges formed by the boy shorts Gia talked me into wearing. Made to give a smooth look under my dress, the waist was cut higher to hold my tummy flat. It wasn’t sexy under there, but utilitarian for appearance’s sake. I was suddenly self-conscious of what I wore that shouldn’t be seen.