Extreme Close-Up (Perspectives Book 1) (4 page)

WHAT GETS HER there when she’s alone?

That seemed like something she should know.

As she photographed items for the back-to-school circular, Lisa thought back on last night’s conversation and had to concede Nat had a point. While she never intended to act on her craving for Braden, she did hope to have sex again one day. It was time to look closely at what lit her up.

She snapped a few test shots and checked the results. “Definitely not pencil cases shaped like fire engines,” she muttered.

Since the divorce, she realized, her orgasms were about as fulfilling as scratching an itch. Before Braden showed up on her lawn, there was no fantasizing, no scene setting... she would just crank on the vibe and knock one out in lieu of an Ambien. It was ludicrous that she’d lost her virginity twenty-three years ago, yet still had no idea what turned her on.
What was she, a fucking Puritan?

The day passed in a blur of colorful school supplies and more colorful language.

As she pulled into her driveway after a long drive home from the studio, the rational part of her was relieved that Braden’s truck wasn’t there. She hadn’t heard from him since their talk, and she couldn’t imagine when she would be ready to face him again.

The evening was warm and her back yard looked welcoming thanks to all the work he had done. She decided to prune some of her flower bushes while attempting to get in touch with her inner sex kitten. After a quick dinner, she pulled on her cut-off shorts and a gauzy cotton tank top. At the last minute, she decided she would feel sexier if she removed her bra, letting the soft shirt skim directly across her skin. Voluptuous as she was, she hardly ever went braless outside of her bedroom, but this felt... nice. She grabbed a pair of clippers from the garage, then headed out back.

As she cut into an overgrown crepe myrtle, a breeze blew through the loose sides of her top. The fabric brushed deliciously against her peaked nipples, and she felt a surge of sexual awareness followed by a wave of self-loathing. She bagged her clippings and reflected on the root of that negativity.

Lisa had been self-conscious about her breasts on and off throughout her life. She’d had none to speak of until she was about fourteen, but she made up for lost time and filled out a C-cup by her junior year of high school. The larger breasts balanced her small waist and curvy bottom, and for a little while she had a lot of confidence and male attention.

Until Ricky Lavin. They had only dated for a few months when she was sixteen. It was a forgettable relationship in nearly every regard, but for a throw-away comment he made one night. Funny how painful memories remained the most vivid. She clipped another crepe myrtle, and let the past in.

They had been watching a scary movie with friends in someone’s huge basement media room, and snuck off to take advantage of the darkness and lack of parental supervision. The shag carpet was itchy on her back, she remembered. They made out for a while and she let him unhook her bra -- the first boy who had been granted that privilege. As he played ineptly with her breasts (though it was years before she knew any better), he paused between kisses to say, “You need to firm these things up.” His dad was a well-regarded gynecologist, so she had assumed Ricky knew what he was talking about.

Twenty-five years later, Lisa paused with hedge clippers in mid-air and shook her head. One asinine remark from a cocky high school kid, and she’d hated her breasts ever since. With the wisdom of hindsight and advanced age, it finally hit her:
there had been absolutely nothing wrong with her teenage breasts.
With a deep sigh, she longed to have her young body back.

She regretted the years of insecurity -- the clothes not worn, the sex not had. If Ricky hadn’t been an ignorant little shit, if she hadn’t taken his comment to heart, her life would’ve been so different. Maybe she would’ve flashed passing cars or entered a wet t-shirt contest after all, she chuckled to herself. Maybe she would’ve won.

The thought of that ignited something inside her. She pressed her thighs together because at that moment, her body demanded it. It was a similar sensation to what she felt when Braden admitted seeing her long-ago, accidental nipple-flash.

She bent to scoop clippings into a trash bag. The light evening breeze caressed the sides of her breasts and ribcage through the wide arm openings of her loose shirt. She shrugged to help the shirt slip a little further off her shoulder until one breast was hardly covered at all. She thought about how embarrassed she would be if anyone saw her like this. Just imagining it made her pussy clench.

“Oh-- Ms. Taylor. You’re home.” The voice came from behind her.

Lisa jumped, startled out of her reverie. “Braden. Hi.”

“Sorry to--” he stared at her. “Jesus.”

She resisted the urge to cross her arms. It had been years since she last felt sexy, and she wasn’t about to let it go. “You’ve done such a great job with the rest of the yard; I couldn’t let these bushes go any longer.”

“Uh-huh.” He absently patted the front of his shorts, drawing Lisa’s attention to what appeared to be an impressive erection. She was mentally congratulating herself for causing it, when he reached into his front pocket and pulled out an eight-inch PVC pipe. “I mowed over a sprinkler the other day. It’ll take me a minute to fix it.”

“Thanks. I really do wish you’d let me give you something...” His eyes went black and she trailed off, as visions of sexual favors danced in their heads. Embarrassed by her unintentional double entendre, she lowered her eyes and realized the thick rod in his shorts had remained after he’d taken out the PVC.
God almighty
.

One corner of his mouth curled, and he indicated the pipe in his fist. “This’ll only take a minute.” His eyes flicked hotly over every inch of her, before he turned and found the broken pipe ten paces away.

Lisa forced herself not to watch him. It was nearly impossible, considering the way his old surf t-shirt clung to every slope and groove. Her panties got even wetter when she recalled the look on his face when he saw her. Obviously, being seen -- especially by him -- was a button-pusher. She rolled her eyes as she realized that she was a wannabe exhibitionist who hated her body.
Natalie would love to trot out her minor in Psychology for that one
.

She bent to pick up the clippers, aware of the sway of her unbound breasts as she moved. When she straightened to attack another bush, her shirt hung from the hard points of her nipples. She didn’t have to look to know his eyes were on her. The feeling she got from that knowledge was a drug.

So what now, she wondered, as she clipped another bush. She couldn’t very well go out in public, looking for age-appropriate men to flash. Well, she
could
, but she wasn’t going to. For some reason, Braden liked to look at her. Why not show the grown boy what he wanted to see? Hell, he’d already seen more than he should have. What’s the harm in showing him more of the same?

The harm would be to her ego when he realized he’d been fantasizing about 41 year-old breasts.

Lisa gave herself a mental shake and fervently hoped that wherever Ricky Lavin may be today, he was walking around with a huge set of floppy man-boobs.

Body image be damned
.

She bent to bag the cuttings, knowing Braden would get a glimpse straight down her shirt if he was looking her way. Given his muttered curse, she assumed he was.

He came toward her radiating heat and restless energy. His voice was deeper than usual as he walked past saying, “I need to test the system. You’ll wanna stand clear.”

She watched him disappear behind the house to find the switch box.

And then she made a choice.

The sprinklers came on. Braden walked back around to find that Lisa hadn’t budged. She’d only gotten drenched. He quickly shut off the system and jogged over to her.

Her skin was shiny and wet, and her waterlogged cut-offs dripped down her legs. The tissue-thin tank top was soaked, rosy-brown nipples protesting the cold.

She wrung out her hair and blinked spiky eyelashes at him. “Oops.”

“Sorry, Ms. Taylor, I didn’t mean to--” Then he seemed to realize she wasn’t complaining. “
Fuck
.”

The heat in his eyes only made her shiver more. She hugged herself. He took a step closer, gently uncrossed her arms and set her hands at her sides. “Now, that is a gorgeous view.”

It occurred to Lisa that she hadn’t really thought this out.

Braden’s eyes darted from her breasts to her face, with equal interest. His warm, rough hands slid from her wrists to her shoulders, up the sides of her neck and into her hair. He licked his lips and slowly pulled her close. She held her breath as he brushed that beautiful mouth against hers once... and again...

Then his hot tongue licked the seam of her lips, and Lisa willed herself to back away. “I’m sorry, Braden. I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t.” He sounded hurt and more than a little frustrated.

“I can’t. So I won’t.” She crossed her arms to cover herself, rubbing her biceps against the sudden chill. “I’m forty-one years old.”

“Yeah. And you’re playing games like a high school girl.” He pushed her arms down again, using light force when she resisted. Looking more angry than hurt, now, he held her

in place with her wrists behind her back. “What, you think you’re not attractive to men anymore? Is that it?”

Eyes wide, she didn’t speak or even nod. She didn’t have to.

A muscle in his jaw ticked in frustration. “Well,
Lisa
, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a man, and this is what you do to me.” With that, he kissed her roughly and ground his erection against her hard enough to hurt.

To the surprise of them both, she kissed him back just as roughly, biting his plush lower lip and sucking his tongue. He groaned and maneuvered them to a lounge chair, pulling her down on top of him. His smooth skin smelled of that woodsy soap and he tasted like spicy cinnamon. She wanted this. She needed this. She fucking
deserved
this.

But when she felt his hands lift the wet hem of her shirt, she panicked and shook her head, panting, “I’m not ready.” Before his expression closed, she confessed, “I’ve been with no one besides Vance since I was younger than you.” She saw him try to hide his surprise that she’d been celibate these last few years.

He sighed and brushed a damp curl off her cheek. “I didn’t know.” He kissed her forehead and let go of her. “I’ve waited half my life for you. I can wait a little longer.”

“Thank you.” She smiled gratefully and lightly kissed his mouth, then scooted back to sit between his calves, straddling his legs and the chair. Her nipples responded when his eyes grazed them, still very visible in the damp shirt. Aware of his hard-on and recalling horror stories about painful blue balls, she moved to cover herself, “Sorry--”

He shook his head. “Don’t. I’ll be glad to have real pictures in my head instead of my imagination when I go home to take care of this,” he squeezed the thick bulge in his shorts. “Unless you wanna lend me a sock,” he chuckled, all dimples and twinkling eyes.

Having his eyes on her was a turn-on. Knowing she got him hard, even more so. But seeing his hand with the braided leather cord around his thick wrist, long fingers delineating his straining erection...

“I could lend you a sock,” she purred with an impish smile.

Understanding dawned in his eyes. “You really are trying to kill me,” he said. Then he watched her face as he slowly slid his hand under his waistband.

Lisa had never been so turned-on in her life. Seeing the movement of Braden’s hand as he worked his cock inside his shorts, while his heavy gaze alternated between her face and her tits... She’d have pressed her thighs together if she weren’t straddling the chair. Luckily, her shorts were still wet, else her condition would be all too evident. The flexing muscles of his forearm fascinated her. In her struggle to keep her restless hands off of him, she ran them over her breasts, squirming against his legs when her fingers caught on hardened nipples.

He made a sound like a growl. “Show me, Lisa. Let me see you.”

She was terrified, but she trusted him. Inch by inch, she lifted the hem of her shirt until the fabric brushed up and over her nipples and her breasts were fully revealed to his hungry eyes.

“You’re perfect,” he ground out. “Still. Perfect.” The fist in his shorts worked faster. He lifted his free hand, surprising her when, instead of reaching for her breasts, he laced his fingers with hers. Despite his obsession with her assets, he stared into her eyes when his hand tightened on hers, pulsed a few times, then relaxed.

His eyes drifted closed as he caught his breath, chest heaving, lips flushed, a glimpse of hard, tanned belly where his shirt hiked up when he’d pulled his hand out of his shorts.

He was the most beautiful thing Lisa had ever seen.

LISA TUGGED THE cold, damp shirt back down to cover her breasts. The heat of embarrassment washed over her, along with the incongruous side-effect she had come to anticipate. Her nipples ached, they were so hard.

Braden opened his eyes, and his look shot straight to her core. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Is that an, ‘I was unmoved by the whole experience,’ fine, or an ‘I’ll take care of myself the second you leave,’ fine?”

“I promised you a sock, didn’t I?” She started to stand, but it was tricky as her legs still straddled his.

In one fluid motion, he untangled their legs and pinned hers under his. “Little late for that,” he chuckled, tugging at his shorts.

“Sorry. Guess I got distracted,” she said, trying for glib.

He put his warm hands on her legs, lightly stroking the sensitive skin behind her knees. “I can think of better ways to distract you.” His hands skimmed up her thighs until his fingertips disappeared into her shorts and short-circuited her central nervous system.

“I have no doubt,” she set her hands on top of his, holding him in place. “But that’s about as much distraction as I can handle for one day.” To her great relief, he understood and didn’t try to push her for more.

Dressed as she was -- or wasn’t -- she couldn’t walk him all the way to his truck, so they said goodbye in the shadows on the side of the house. She hugged him, forcing herself not to press her face against his chest. “Thank you, Braden.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” he said with a rueful smile. Then he kissed the corner of her lips, and made sure to catch her eye so there was no mistaking his meaning when he added, “
I’ll see you again, soon, Lisa
.”

The moment she heard his truck drive away, she rushed inside, stripped off her wet clothes and brought herself to an explosive orgasm. Just as they both knew she would.