Dating A Silver Fox (Never Too Late) (25 page)

“No?” Morrie asked, grinning up at her, already planning some great ways to test that flexibility. “I’m kind of glad you don’t cook well. Otherwise, I’d be asking you to marry me. As it is, I don’t know as I could live with a woman who doesn’t cook.”

Lydia looked down in disgust. “Glad to hear I’m safe from the matrimonial prospects of such a sexist male. You don’t look in danger of starving, but I have ice cream if you’re interested.”

“Ben and Jerry’s?” Morrie asked.

“Is there any other kind?” Lydia asked in return, reaching down a hand to help him up.

Morrie made a big show of stumbling around as he stood, but it was really just an excuse to grip her for a hug. “You smell great. I think I’m addicted to your scent. So what time do you usually go to bed?”

“Around midnight,” Lydia said, feeling the butterflies dancing at his nearness. “We could go earlier since—this is crazy. I should just let you get me drunk and do the deed. It would be easier.”

Morrie cackled like a chicken causing her to laugh. “No—I take it back. That’s not fair. You’re actually being very brave.”

“You didn’t think so earlier,” Lydia reminded him.

“We’ll get to everything in time. We’ll tell Dr. Logan on Tuesday that we’re going to do other things for a while, but I’d like to make you comfortable enough to do the meditations with me at some point,” Morrie said.

“I don’t know if that is ever going to happen,” Lydia said, leading the way to the kitchen. “The position is weird. I suppose we can try again after we—after I get more comfortable with you. Thanks for not giving me a hard time about it.”

Morrie grinned at her hips swinging as she walked. “I’m saving the hard time for later.”

Lydia stopped and turned to glare.

“Oh come on, that was not a threat,” Morrie exclaimed. “It was a promise. And a damn good one.”

“On second thought, you can have all the ice cream,” Lydia said firmly, turning away from the gleam in his eyes. “I’m having a large glass of wine instead.”

Chapter 19

She was tense and uncomfortable, but it was what she had expected to feel. It had been so long, and she felt unnatural lying next to a man she had only been on friendly terms with for a matter of weeks.

Outside of bed they were still learning to talk civilly to each other. His kisses were nice, and she liked the way he hugged, but his gaze asked for a level of interaction she just didn’t know how to give.

“I confess I’m nervous, but I really do want to do this. I wouldn’t have said so if I hadn’t meant to follow through,” Lydia whispered. “So do whatever you want. I’ll go along.”

“I don’t want you to just ‘go along’ with what I want,” Morrie said, stroking her cheek and her hair, smiling at her soft gaze on him. “I’m just not feeling it yet. But even if nothing happens, I still want to stay with you. Is that alright?”

Lydia nodded against Morrie’s still stroking hand. “My queen size bed seems a little small with you in it.”

Morrie laughed at her observation. “This is the same size bed I bought for myself two years ago, but I agree it feels small for two people who aren’t used to sharing.”

There was silence for a couple of minutes while they lay together in the nearly dark room. Only the light Lydia had left burning in the small bathroom illuminated them. Morrie had worn his white boxer briefs and t-shirt to bed. Lydia had opted for a white cotton sleep shirt just so they would be—equally dressed. The difference was that she hadn’t bothered with underwear. She hadn’t thought she would need it. Her husband had made few requests about her clothing in the bedroom, but removing that barrier had been one.

“Will you tell me what turned you off sex?” Morrie asked. “I’d really like to know.”

Lydia rolled away from his concern to lie on her back. “I’m actually happy to be here with you. I’d rather not wake up any ghosts by discussing the past.”

“I’d rather not do anything to wake them either, but at least tell me what
not
to do,” Morrie demanded.

Lydia sighed and rolled back towards him, shifting her head until she was looking at his collarbone instead of his face. She’d never get the words out if she had to meet his eyes.

“William wasn’t a bad man. He just wanted me to want him. I knew I should but I couldn’t seem to make myself feel what wasn’t there. I stayed in my marriage because my parents would have disowned me if I’d left him. His parents would have disowned him if he had divorced me. Early in our relationship, he even said he loved me, but I never loved him back. Or at least, not like a wife is supposed to love the man she marries.”

“Sounds like a really sad situation for both of you. Parents are not the people we should please with our bed partners,” Morrie said, reaching out to link the tips of their fingers.

“I guess what bothered me most was that every time William and I were intimate, he would gently list my faults and tell me what he thought I should do better next time,” Lydia said quietly. “William thought I was—I believe the word he used was frigid. There had only ever been him, and I didn’t feel much. I figured he was right.”

Yeah, and blaming his wife certainly created a great rationalization for turning to other women without having to feel guilty, Morrie thought. What about therapy? What about working it out? Every couple he knew had at least a few challenges.

“Did your husband ever ask how he could make it better for you?” Morrie demanded.

Lydia thought, but couldn’t recall. It was a long time ago. Details were fuzzy. Only the emotional pain remained. “Mostly I did what he asked, but it never got better—
I
never got better. After several years of that misery, I finally moved my things into another bedroom so I could sleep without worrying about engaging in—that particular struggle in bed. William must have taken my separate bedroom as a sign. Shortly after, he took his first mistress. I was ashamed, but also relieved. I also found out I was pregnant with Lauren around that same time.”

“Lydia,” Morrie said softly, his heart hurting for her. “I’m sorry your life was so lacking in true compassion. Jane and Elijah are my joy, and there isn’t a day I’m not thankful for them and their mother.”

“Lauren is my joy now too. But it wasn’t always that way between us. Her existence only seemed to tighten the chains in my marriage. Still I was blessed. William was well off financially, and the nanny did the hard work. Whatever his other faults as a husband, William adored Lauren. He was a doting father, and she loved him for it. I have to admit he was very good to her.”

“Didn’t you ever look at another man and think maybe it could have been different?” Morrie said. Despite his religious beliefs, he was unable to fathom how a person could stay in a married life so empty of true connection. “You can tell me the truth. It won’t change my opinion of you.”

“Looking back on it now, I think the failure of being a proper wife made me too ashamed to allow myself normal feelings other women might have had in my situation. After William died, I managed social dating, but only so I wouldn’t be looked at with too much pity. I wasn’t really looking, and I never came across a man that ever made me want intimacy with him,” Lydia said, reaching out finger tips and pressing against the center of Morrie’s very white shirt to feel the warmth of the male inside it.

“Until me—you mean,” Morrie corrected.

Lydia lifted her gaze from his chest to his face. “Yes. Until you. I don’t want you looking for woman number three in your dating experiment. I’d rather be the next woman if you can handle my lack of being normal. I figure intimacy with you can’t be any worse than what I did for all of my marriage with William,” Lydia declared.

“Sweetheart, I may be desperate for you, but I refuse to justify such piss-poor flattery with a negative response to it. Stop being so silly, woman,” Morrie ordered affectionately, lifting her fingers to his lips. “You’re like a princess in a fairy tale waiting for some prince’s kiss to snap you out of your shitty thinking about sex.”

“Really? So you think a prince is going to show up sometime soon and make a lifetime of reservations just melt away? Be sure and point him out when you see him, won’t you? I don’t want to miss my big chance,” Lydia said dryly, calling out when Morrie erased the distance between them and buried his face in her throat on a tortured moan.

“You’re lucky I’m not sixteen,” Morrie declared, pushing her to her back as he ran a hand up her abs until he cupped a breast just as firm as the rest of her. Even through the shirt she wore, he felt the firmness. The woman was damn well maintained. “You have an incredibly nice body, Lydia McCarthy.”

“Then take advantage of it,” Lydia ordered. “I gave you my permission. What else do you want?”

“Your desire. A concession is different than making a choice. Just for the record though, there is nothing seriously wrong with a woman whose nipples get as hard as yours do just from the slightest touch. I wonder what would happen if I did other things,” Morrie mused, flicking her aroused nipple with his thumb as he thought about it.

“What are you talking about? What other things?” she asked.

Morrie rose over her. “Don’t panic. Can I lay on top of you?”

Lydia nodded but really wasn’t sure at all. Morrie must have read her tenseness as fear, because he slid between her legs and down to keep the excited state of his lower body away from direct contact with her. A fact that greatly relieved her for a few seconds, but then her back arched from the bed when Morrie’s mouth closed over a still hard nipple through her t-shirt. His teeth clamped around it gently. A few tugs and nips and she heard herself calling his name.

“Scared of what you’re feeling, scared of me, or both?” Morrie asked roughly, lifting his head, his blue eyes lit with challenge.

At her rapid nod and wide eyes, Morrie laughed and gently cupped both firm breasts with as much reverence as he could manage in his current condition. He wanted to squeeze, and bite, and tug until she broke apart on him. Then he wanted to do it again just to show her what was possible.

“Here’s another lecture. These are to pleasure both of us. It doesn’t count if only one of us likes what’s happening. So I don’t care how much you beg me to sexually torture your breasts tonight until you scream in climax from that alone—which I now believe is highly possible—you should know I’m too keyed up to watch you fly solo. So let’s both go to sleep and try again some other day. I’m satisfied to be beside you tonight, so that’s going to have to be enough.”

“But you don’t have to wait,” Lydia repeated.

“Yes—I think I do,” Morrie said. “I want more. I want it all.”

Shock froze Lydia as his words and dark lust-filled gaze contradicted each other. Yet all the while he was rejecting her offer to do as he liked, his stroking thumbs kept both her nipples beaded into hard, sensitive points that he continued to torture.

“You’re teasing me,” Lydia accused.

“No—I’m giving you that hard time I promised,” Morrie explained. “I want more than just a concession. I generally mean what I say.”

He moved his hands from her breasts to link their fingers, and brought all four of their hands down between their bodies. He surged hard against their linked palms cupping them around his extremely stiff erection for at least a little relief.

“Lady, your touch makes me feel invincible,” he said, voice rough with arousal.

Her scent rose to fill the air around them released by the heat they were generating between them. Unable to restrain himself completely despite his resolve not to take things too far, Morrie surged against their joined hands once more as he bent his mouth to her breast again. He moved his attention from breast to breast until Lydia was writhing beneath him, his erection still pressed into her hot, nervous palms. If she begged, he’d take her, but he wasn’t taking her until he had proof that she genuinely wanted him back.

When he finally stopped sucking, a shocked Lydia was breathless beneath him while her heart beat frantically.

“Frigid my ass
,” Morrie said fiercely, wrestling with his desire to show her more than she expected. “There’s not a damn thing wrong with you. You’re just afraid.”

“If that’s true, then I’m tired of being afraid. Go ahead. Do what you want,” Lydia whispered. “It’s okay. Truly.”

“No, it’s not okay. It was not okay when your husband did it, and it’s not okay for me either,” Morrie said, easing himself away from her while he still could. “The only reason I’m stopping is that I want your desire for me to burn as brightly as mine does for you. That’s how it’s supposed to work, and that’s how it’s going to work for us.”

“That may never happen,” Lydia said.

“I’m willing to accept that risk. If you knew me better, you would know I’m not into quick schemes. I’m into long-term profit and gain. I can be a very patient man for the right reasons,” he said softly.

“But what will you do about your. . .
condition
,” Lydia said, throat tight with hurt. If he went to someone else. . .no, she couldn’t go there. The thought was simply unbearable at the moment, especially when what she wanted was for him to kiss her again. His mouth on her breast had been exciting, but she liked the way he sucked her bottom lip after every kiss.

Morrie slid off Lydia and tucked himself at her side, his arm a band of possessiveness over the woman he decided was his to protect—even from herself. No one was going to force her to do anything again if he could help it. They would come to an understanding. Then he’d show her just how amazing it could be.