“It’s uncomfortable, but no man has died from an unused erection yet that I’m aware of. I prefer to wait and dream of the day you tear at my clothes and beg me to make you com. . .”
Fingertips covered his mouth.
Then Morrie realized Lydia’s breathing was rapid and shallow again. He laughed against her hand. Oh, she was tempting—very, very tempting. He reminded himself of long-term gain and managed to keep his hands from doing more exploring. He needed to get himself under control so that he could focus on her more. Her first climax with him was going to be memorable if he had his way.
“I love you, and I want you,” Morrie whispered fiercely when Lydia finally pulled her fingers away from his mouth. Her squeak of protest made him tighten his hold.
“It’s both of us or neither of us,” he whispered roughly. “Mutual is the only kind of sex I’m ever having with you.”
After his declaration, Morrie seemed to almost immediately drift off into sleep, and in a short while Lydia heard him snoring softly. Then and only then did she let hot tears of shame fall to silently wet her pillow.
Guilt over not being good enough to seduce Morrie properly threatened to overwhelm her, the pain just as fresh as it had been with the only other man she’d ever tried it with. She swallowed hard and squirmed, but Morrie’s grip only tightened more. He had to lift weights to be that strong at his age.
Realizing she was never going to escape without waking him, Lydia eventually stopped crying and willed herself to sleep beside the man in her bed. And even though it was for the first time in many, many years, it still felt just as awful as it had back then.
***
After a restless night of fighting against an arm that wouldn’t let go of her for long, Lydia woke early to find that arm still across her middle, firmly holding her in place as strongly as it had for most of the night. Lydia turned her head and met a blue-eyed, wide-open stare.
“Good morning,” Morrie said, easing his arm at last to slide a hand from hip to breast, resting his fingers just under one even though they itched to move to the nipple he could already see getting hard. “Been a while since I woke up with a beautiful woman.”
“Good morning,” Lydia said tightly, remorse already setting in.
She had failed him. Morrie had been too determined to save her. Last night had been nothing but a big disappointment. He’d gone to sleep without relief of any kind, even if it was mostly his fault for turning her down.
Sure, she didn’t know how it would have turned out, but she would have tried to help him out. She had been willing.
“How about I just cover the morning-after guilt quickly?” Morrie asked roughly, making sure the words sounded like a warning. Maybe they were. “Yes, I slept over. No, we didn’t have sex. Yes, we’re still going to someday. And yes, I said it would happen only when you wanted me enough to rip my clothes off. So get that damn depressed look out of your eyes.”
“I see you are grumpy and mean in the mornings,” Lydia said, rolling quickly away from him and to her feet.
“Criticism from the queen of mean?” Morrie asked, resorting to tired clichés to keep from swearing. “And I don’t need the morning sunlight reminding me that you didn’t wear underwear to bed last night. I figured that out when I was between your legs.”
Lydia drew in sharp breath. “You knew I was vulnerable and said nothing? Did nothing?” she exclaimed.
“I figured it out when I dragged your hands down between us for some relief,” Morrie said. “What did you want me to say? Thanks for the thought? I was not going to take unfair advantage of a woman who didn’t really want me.”
“Do you think I offer myself to men every day? You—you—
ungrateful pig
,” Lydia said.
He watched Lydia fist her hands, pivot and head to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. The sound of it echoing had him laughing and sent his blood pumping more than a cup of coffee would have. He liked that she was mad because he’d turned her down. To his way of thinking, that was a good sign. It meant it mattered to her.
“Hey,” Morrie yelled. “I better not hear any throwing up in there. It’s too late to pretend you didn’t like what we did last night. All you have to do is let yourself want me back and I’ll be happy to take you up on all future offers.”
Morrie heard the toilet flushing but no remarks back. Moments later the sink ran. Then a few minutes after that, Lydia all but yanked the door off the hinges as she exited.
“Do you drink coffee?” she demanded.
“Yes. I actually have a hard time being civil until I’ve had my fair share of morning caffeine,” Morrie said.
“Fine. You’re about to get the answer to one of your questions. Bathroom is yours,” Lydia said, wrapping herself in a long pink robe and walking to the door.
“What question?” Morrie asked, sad to see her legs disappear so soon.
“The one about how I kick men out. You get one cup of coffee. Then I want your ass in your car and backing out of my damn driveway so I can get some peace in my own house,” Lydia said harshly, striding out the bedroom door with purpose. “And Hell will freeze before I offer myself again.”
In moments, he heard the sounds of Lydia in the kitchen. Her slamming and banging almost had him regretting not following through last night.
“Not the worst morning after I’ve ever had,” Morrie mused aloud, listening to the soft swearing coming from downstairs. “Be upset all you want, honey. I’ll take the pissed off version over a sick one any day.”
But Morrie stopped on his way to take care of morning business in the bathroom when he saw the note pad on the nightstand. Grinning to himself, he wrote “I love you, my hard-ass Shiksa Goddess” on it, propped it on the pillow she’d used, and then headed off whistling.
Chapter 20
Walter knocked lightly on the doorframe to get Jane’s attention. “Have you seen Harrison today?”
Jane pulled her gaze from the computer screen and her email to the male pinup poster candidate filling her doorway. Sex dreams about Walter Graham three nights in a row had not left her with many emotional resources towards fending off the real version.
“Lose your grandfather?” Jane asked as casually as she could, dropping her gaze when Walter came into the office.
He smelled like woodsy aftershave and looked like all the “man candy” photos her girlfriends were always emailing her. Those never provoked more than a giggle or a wistful smile from her. None of them had ever given her the kind of arousal problems that just one tiny whiff of Walter did.
Jane squirmed in her chair and rolled back under her desk. “If I see Harrison, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”
Walter walked to the chair in front of Jane’s desk and plopped his large body into it. He had noticed the last few times he’d come around, Jane had barely spoken to him. Today she wasn’t even maintaining eye contact. Something was seriously wrong.
“Are you mad at me about something?” Walter demanded, too perplexed not to pose the question. He wanted to laugh though when Jane looked at him as if he had lost his mind. So if it wasn’t anger, what was wrong it then?
“Why on earth would I be mad at you?” Jane asked, curious that he’d ask such a thing. She watched Walter squirm in his chair, and that’s when it hit her. “Walter—relax. I already know your company is the one that bought North Winds. Harrison told me last week. I’m not mad that you didn’t tell me.”
Walter leaned forward to rest his forearms on Jane’s desk. “I planned to tell you after the inspections cleared. Harrison said the sale isn’t a done deal for the bank until that happens.”
Jane’s mouth quirked up at both corners. “North Winds will pass all inspections. I promise. And Harrison knows that. He’s messing with you.”
“Typical,” Walter said with a shrug. “Sometimes I see it happening and sometimes I don’t.”
When Jane smiled but didn’t answer, he studied her profile as she retuned to staring at the computer screen. What was it he liked so much?
Jane was definitely attractive, but not a stunning beauty. Not even trying to be alluring today, she had her shoulder length hair restrained in a clip to keep it back while she worked. The only makeup she wore was on her eyelashes. He knew she chewed lip gloss off two minutes after it was applied, especially when he was around. That thought had him squirming in his chair, his jeans growing tight.
In fact, she was sexy in several ways. Any male would have appreciated the full breasts that strained the buttons of the white blouse she wore. Sure, it was all Walter could do to stop himself from bending to look under the desk to see if there was the short black skirt and heels he suspected were there.
He had dated lots of incredibly beautiful women who intentionally dressed to be sexy and alluring. Their appeal often never lasted through a single dinner. Yet when Jane moved her gaze from the computer to him, eyes dancing with amusement, his whole body went on alert.
“Walter, your eyes are glazed over. Didn’t you sleep well last night?” Jane asked. “Sleep deprivation can lead to mental instability.”
“Are you saying I’m crazy?” Walter asked, grinning.
“Crazy is a relative term, which is cause for concern in anyone Harrison calls ‘progeny,’” Jane informed him, unable to stifle her laughter. “So get more sleep.”
He had never dated a woman whose brain was sharper than his, never even met one at Princeton, or at least not one with physical assets like Jane’s. Now here he was, wanting the whole package and even thinking about the long term with her.
Harrison was the crazy person, when he wasn’t being a freaking genius.
“Will you go out with me? I’m not teasing or joking. I’m making a serious request to spend some time getting to know you better,” Walter said.
“What are you asking? Better yet—
why?
” Jane asked, her voice squeaking with some surprise even though she’d been half expecting him to ask at some point. She wasn’t naïve about their chemistry. She just knew that given their age differences it wouldn’t work. “That came from out of the blue. I’m surprised.”
Walter gave her a skeptical look. Her tone might be already saying no, but her gaze was lit with interest. Harrison had taught him to read people almost as soon as he could walk and he did it very well.
“You know it came from the fact that I’m hanging out here all the time hoping to talk with you rather than hanging out with friends. I like you, Jane Fox,” Walter said, holding her gaze until it slid away from his. “I like you a lot, and I want to get to know you better.”
“I like you too,” Jane replied. “But I can’t date you, Walter.”
“Why not?” Walter asked. “I think I’d make a great cub. I’ve always liked older women, just never felt like I wanted to date one until you.”
“Cub?” Jane said on a laugh. “As in ‘baby bear’?”
“No—
cub
as in a younger man who could show an older woman how to have fun,” Walter said easily.
“Walter, I’m thirty-eight,” Jane said with a smile. “I was having
fun
when you still thought girls had cooties.”
“Okay. You can show me how then,” Walter said, trying to sound innocent, returning her smile with one of his. Smiling was hard to do with what was starting to happen in his lap at the thought of having the kind of fun he wanted to have with this particular woman. It was all he’d thought about for days. “I’ve been dreaming about you.”
Jane laughed because given her sex dreams about him, that would be ironic if true, but she had heard one too many of Harrison’s practiced lines coming out of Walter’s mouth. It was doubtful any woman would ever know where she stood with either of those men.
“I’ve been dreaming of you too,” Jane said honestly, leaning on the desk herself. “In my dreams, you and I are sitting in a real estate closing and you’re handing me a check for a large amount of money. I always wake up happy and satisfied.”
“I thought you said money didn’t do it for you,” Walter accused, biting his lip at the sheer amount of humor in her gaze. Until Jane, he hadn’t realized how arousing it could be to laugh with a woman. “I say we need to just test the chemistry between us to be sure. Go out with me.”
“Maybe we’ll have a beer together after the closing,” Jane said in concession.
“Make that a glass of red wine and you have a deal. I like beer, but not what it does to my body,” Walter explained. “I’m about the age where guys start gaining weight.”
Jane shook her head. “A ‘cub’ that drinks wine instead of beer and worries about his weight. Are you saying that just to impress an older woman?”
“I’m not a typical guy for my age, well not in the ways that count. My parents expected extraordinary. I couldn’t quite do it the way they wanted, but I’ve tried hard to live up to their ideals just so they’d leave me alone in my business life,” Walter said. “You’ve met them. They’re unfailingly polite but don’t engage in real living very often. Harrison said they’re so smart that they live in a different world than the rest of us.”
“Walter, don’t make me lecture you on this again. You’re a firefighter willing to risk your life to save people, and you love your crazy grandfather despite his scheming. You accomplish being ‘extraordinary’ just by standing in doorways and breathing,” Jane said sharply, her gaze daring him to refute her statements. “Surely your parents recognize that, but even if they aren’t proud of who you are, that’s their problem, not yours. Let it go. If they love you, they’ll come around. My parents didn’t want me following in Dad’s footsteps either, but I would never have been happy doing anything else.”