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Authors: Theresa Ellson

BOOK: Hard Choices
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***

 

Matthew watched Lyssa walk up the front porch, admiring the view. She had to be at least forty, he knew, though she looked much younger. But she had all the maturity and confidence that was so appealing in women closer to his age; he’d never understood why his contemporaries chased after much-younger girls. What the hell did they talk about? He could have talked with Lyssa all night. He wondered if he’d been too obvious that he was trying to keep the conversation going.

There was something so…
vital
about her. He’d heard her singing as he was finishing up his solo dinner in the restaurant. She had a decent voice, but what had caught his attention was that she sounded like she was having so much fun. She’d kept laughing into the microphone, probably without even realizing it. He’d been drawn into the bar, feeling like he had to see the face that went with that infectious giggle.

When he’d first seen her on the stage, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was lithe and fit, with beautiful wavy hair cascading down her back… but it was her smile that caught his attention. She was so full of joy. He couldn’t believe his luck that not only was there an old friend to introduce him to her, but then he’d gotten to drive her home. Such a perfect intro. And then he’d almost blown it.

As he watched her walk away, though, he felt pretty sure he’d gotten back on track with her. Once she was inside and her porch light was out, he felt comfortable driving home. It had been contrary to all his instincts not to walk a woman to her door, but he needed to respect her boundaries after trampling all over them in the first place.

He glanced down at his dashboard and debated whether or not it was too late to call Alan; he knew Alan would give him the scoop. So he took a chance and hit
Call
on Alan’s contact as he drove away.

“Hellllllooo,” Alan trilled in to the phone. Matthew rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Why, Matthew! How nice to hear from you. What could you
possibly
be calling about at this late hour?”

Matthew laughed but said, “All right, all right. You got me. Lyssa’s amazing. We had a great talk, so what do I… you know, what do you think I should do next?”

Alan was quiet for a moment. When he answered, he spoke in his normal voice, sans any sarcasm or teasing. “Honestly, Matthew, at the moment, I’d say, take it slow with Lyssa. There are… there are some things going on in her life at the moment that… that might make jumping into something with her a little… weird for her.”

Matthew frowned. “Yeah, she told me all about her divorce,” Matthew said slowly. “That was pretty recent – “

“Really? When did she tell you that? Did you guys have coffee or something, after we all left?”

“No, I drove her straight home. She made it
very
clear, though, that I would not be walking her to her door, or be invited in.”

Alan started laughing. “God, I love that woman.” He sighed.

Matthew smiled. “Yeah, she’s pretty great,” he said quietly. “Anyway, I drove her home and we sat in my car talking. Must have been, I don’t know, an hour?”

“That’s great!” Alan said enthusiastically. “As first dates go, not bad, huh?”

“I refuse to count that as a ‘date,’ Alan. When I take a woman out on a date, it at least involves dinner,” Matthew said dryly.

“Whatever. But just… go slowly, Matthew.”

Matthew sighed. “Well, I found out today that I finally got an offer on the Port Orchard house, so I am heading back over in a day or two. I need to pack it up and everything.” Matthew groaned. “That’ll take at least a week.” He paused. “Should I call her before I go?”

“Yeah, sure. Did she give you her number?”

Matthew suddenly stopped. “Oh my god, no. I forgot to ask. She didn’t offer, though. I forgot to even ask if I can call her.” Matthew exhaled sharply. “I am so out of practice! I am so bad at this!”

Alan chuckled on the other end of the line. “Calm down, Tiger. This is not the end of the world.”

“She’s really great, Alan. I don’t want to screw it up.”

“She is really great, Matthew. Lyssa is also sane, and is not interested in any stupid dating games. What’s more, she is not going to sit around waiting for you to call. So stop panicking, and follow your instincts. I will text you her number.”

Matthew bit his lip. “I don’t know, Alan. I already was too pushy by driving her home. Why don’t I let her ask you for my number? I don’t want to be some aggressive asshole, you know?”

“Hmm. Good point, actually. Like I said, moving slow is probably better right now anyway.”

“Not really my strong suit, but I will trust you.”

“Trust me? What the hell do I know? I’m an old married man! I don’t know how you kids date these days!”

Matthew laughed again. “Thanks, Alan. Listen, I am about to lose you behind a mountain, so I will talk to you later.”

For the rest of his drive home, Matthew couldn’t get his mind off of Lyssa’s smile – and, when he was honest, how good she looked walking away from him. He definitely needed to figure out a way to get to know her better.

Chapter 15

 

“Oh my god, my head,” Molly moaned into the phone.

“You’re not seriously expecting sympathy from me, are you?” I chuckled.

“No,” Molly yawned. “I’m only rousing myself at the crack of ten to see how your night went.”

“Went? My night went to bed, Molly,” I paused a beat. “Alone.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

Part of me wanted to ask her about Matthew, wanted to know anything she knew about him. But he scared the living hell out of me. And I had three more nights with Aaron. Just three more.

“Are you going to see Aaron tonight?”

“That’s the plan,” I said smoothly.

“Oh. OK.” Her tone was odd. Hesitant. Sort of wary.

“Why, Molly?”

“Lyssa, don’t take this the wrong way – I know you’re a big girl, and you can take care of yourself. I’m just… worried about you.”

I sighed into my office phone. “Honey, that is totally valid. If our situations were reversed, I’d be worried about you.” I hesitated.

“But mind my own business?” Molly asked.

“No! Not at all! I just don’t have any platitudes for you. Look, we both know I will be all right. You really helped me work some things through last night. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. I think my biggest fear – that all the newfound things that I like about me would go away with Aaron – I think you helped me see that doesn’t have to be true. It’s still scary. I’m still sad to say goodbye to him, but it’s a season in my life that’s ending.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Sometimes you’re so mature and rational, it kind of pisses me off, you know that?”

I laughed. “Not so much. All I can really think about is fucking that kid’s brains out for the next three nights.” Her bark of laughter probably hurt her head. “There, feel better?” I laughed.

“Yes! OK, you, my dear friend, have a fan-fucking-tastic few days. I will talk to you Thursday!”

“Let me call you, OK? I plan on taking Thursday off,” I said it with a leer in my voice, but really, I knew I’d need a day to recollect myself.

“OK, sweetie. I love you, Lyssa, you know?”

“I know. I love you, too.”

I hung up and looked up to see Aaron standing in the door way to my office.

“Wow, I’ve already been replaced? You have
another
secret lover?” he put his hand over his heart and pretended to be almost crying.

Laughing, I said, “I was talking to Molly, you idiot,” I shook my head. “Come on in.”

“I have no reason to be in your office,” he came in and closed the door, “I am bored, and I wanted to kiss you. But,” he turned around, “I see your blinds are still up. You still don’t trust me in your office, do you?”

I smiled at him. “Nope,” I said quietly. “I don’t. But mostly, I don’t trust
me
with you in my office. Do you have
any
idea how well you wear a suit?” I leaned forward in my chair. “I’ve spent the last three months exercising a great amount of control in not ripping it off you. Every. Damn. Day.” Aaron could tell I wasn’t joking. I wasn’t trying to be funny. I knew he could tell by the flush of his cheeks and the heat in his eyes. He wasn’t smiling. He was breathing harder than normal.

“Let me close the blinds, Lyssa.”

“No.” He knew my rule. I was in charge of this office. I needed to maintain a level of professionalism in the office. At least during the day. He knew our dance: we flirted, in secret, all day at work… then spent the evening working off all the lust we built up during the day. I loved the anticipation almost as much as I loved finally tearing his clothes off.

“How long are you going to make me wait?”

Make him wait? Hell, I couldn’t hold on until after work. With a sudden inspiration, I said: “Why don’t you ‘go out for coffee’?” I said, using air quotes. “You leave first. You know where I hide the house key. Meanwhile, I have to ‘run to the bank.’”

“All right,” he said, his voice husky as he stood up. I sat in my chair, and watched him walk out to Jean’s desk as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. I saw Jean smile, and though I couldn’t hear them, I knew he was taking her order. He’d have to actually stop for coffee on his way back.

I waited a few minutes, glad my arousal was a little easier to hide. I headed out the door. “Gotta run to the bank, Jean. I shouldn’t be long,” I tossed the comment over my shoulder. Jean called out an acknowledgement that she’d heard me as I let the door close behind me.

I got to my car and looked in the back seat. Aaron was sitting there, suit coat off, shirt unbuttoned, arms spread across the back of the seat. He looked magnificent. My eyes didn’t make it up past his tanned washboard stomach and perfect chest. “What – “

“Drive.”

“Where – “

“I said, drive.”

I was so aroused, I didn’t argue. I knew what was going on. I’d been in control in the office, and he didn’t like that. And it wasn’t that Aaron wanted to be in control of our situations; he just liked me
out
of control.

I drove out of our parking lot and down the street. A few blocks down the road sat an industrial facility that was currently vacant. Aaron said, “Turn here.” Again, I didn’t argue. “Pull around back,” he told me, “and park.” I pulled around back. We were surrounded by buildings, completely hidden from the main road. “Now come back here,” he demanded.

I parked the car, got out of the front seat, and slid in the back.

“So… what?” I asked, “We’re going to do it in a car like a couple of teenag – “ Aaron cut me off by grabbing me and kissing me. Not gently. He wrapped both hands around my head, entangling his hands in my hair and pulling me close to him, kissing me hard and not letting me go.

I reached down and found his belt, reaching with both hands to undo it as quickly as I could. I grabbed onto his pants, and he lifted off the seat, just enough to let me pull his pants down to his knees.

He released me from the kiss and said simply, “Ride me.”

It didn’t even occur to me to argue. I saw a condom sitting next to him on the seat, so I ripped it open and put it on him. Then I reached up under my skirt, pulled my panties off, and straddled him. I was tempted to tease him. I was tempted to try to take back some control. But Aaron must have sensed it, because suddenly he grabbed me and kissed me again. He pulled me to him and said into my ear, “I told you to ride me. Get on me, and fuck me. Now.” He was matter-of-fact, not insistent, as though it didn’t occur to him I wouldn’t obey. We’d played this game a bit, and he knew I liked it.

I slid down onto him, letting him fill me. It was exquisite. It had only been last night that he’d bent me over and filled me up, but it still felt like I’d been months without him inside me. Every time was that much pleasure, that much release.

I moved slowly up and down. He rolled his head back, moaning as I moved up and down, still with his hands wrapped into my hair, rather than gripping my hips. This was his way of giving me back some control – letting me set the rhythm.

Suddenly, much sooner than I expected, he cried out and jerked. His hands shot down to my hips, and he held me down on him, grinding himself into me. He moaned again, loudly, and his body shuddered under me as his head fell forward, his forehead against my shoulder.

“Oh my god, Lyssa, I’m sorry,” he laughed a little. “You got me going so much in your office, I knew I wouldn’t last long, but hell!” he laughed some more, “I didn’t think I’d give out on you
that
fast!”

I stayed where I was and started moving again, grinding against him. “Well, one thing I’m sure of: you
will
make it up to me later,” I said.

“You keep that up, and you won’t have to wait,” he said huskily.

“No, I think that will hold both of us over until ten minutes after we leave the office for the day,” I leered at him.

He looked up at me and smiled, lopsidedly. “I may – may – make it to lunch, but I make no promises,” he said, “and I am taking you all the way home at lunch time, and fucking you like you deserve to be fucked. Or, we could just
not
go back to the office for a while.” He ran his thumbs over my bra, across my nipples.

I leaned my head back and ground against him again. I felt him get hard again, inside of me, and
that
really got me going. It still amazed me that I had the ability to excite him – this incredibly beautiful, vital, sensual creature. He wanted
me.
That was incredible arousing.

He moved his other hand on the top of my thigh. He squeezed, knowing what having his hand that close to my clit would do to me. I moaned, and he moved his thumb in, teasing my clit with it. My breathing got faster, and I felt him get harder. I moved slowly, up and down him, as he worked my clit with one thumb, and pinched my nipple with his other hand, through my bra. My head was still thrown back, lost in the ecstasy that my body could give me. That Aaron could give me.

I felt the pressure building from my slow grinding, and the slow, steady movement of Aaron’s thumb on my clit. Suddenly, the wave of orgasm broke over me so hard, I felt like I would drown in it – happily drown in it. Like every type of euphoria I had ever felt – the best orgasm, the best chocolate, the best runner’s high – all wrapped into one, perfect moment. It felt like it lasted for hours.

When I “came to,” and became aware of my surroundings again, I looked down at Aaron and realized I was gripping his shoulders so hard, his shirt was going to be permanently wrinkled. Then I noticed the expression on his face: he was… alight. His eyes shone. He wasn’t smiling, he was looking at me like he’d never seen me before. Like he had just discovered the greatest toy ever under the Christmas tree. “Damn,” he whispered, “how am I ever going to top
you
, Lyssa?”

I was still breathing so hard, I pretended not to have heard him. We’d already had this talk. I didn’t want to go there again.

I looked around the still-vacant parking lot. “OK, I admit it. I’m glad we didn’t have an audience,” I said as I slid my panties back on. I threw my shoes down on the ground outside the car and slid into them as I stood up, tucking in and adjusting as I did. By the time Aaron was done cleaning up and re-tucking, he looked as crisp as he had at 9 am. I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. “How do you
do
that?” I asked. “How do you recover from sex and look all…
normal
minutes later?”

But before I could even say the obvious answer, Aaron beat me to it: “Practice, practice, practice,” he leered at me.

I laughed. “Well, I, for one, am grateful for all the ‘practice’ you’ve had. Come on. We have coffee to pick up.”

We arrived back at work, and walked in together. It seemed totally natural, and no one even noticed. Thankfully, Jean wasn’t even at her desk. I had to admit to myself, I would not miss all the tension of feeling like I had to hide something from everyone I worked with. I mean, I had known I would eventually tell everyone about my divorce, so I wasn’t worried about word getting out. But my fling with Aaron was different. I didn’t want it sullied and made sordid by a bunch of twittering co-workers.

Tuesday and Wednesday dragged by at work, but every night Aaron and I had frenzied, crazy sex, knowing it was the last of it. Or so I thought.

“Lyssa?” he asked me Wednesday night, as we lay exhausted, on the floor of my bedroom.

“Mmm?” I was still basking in the afterglow of yet another amazing orgasm.

“Can I… can I call you over Thanksgiving?”

My eyes flew open. But I didn’t hesitate. “Aaron, no. Look,” I rolled over onto my side, propped myself up on my elbow, and looked at him. “We had this talk. Sunday night.” I reached over and took his hand, to soften the harshness of my words. “I need this to be a clean break. I need to know that this is… over,” I choked a little on that last word. “For my own sanity. For my own peace of mind. I can’t give myself an out. I can’t. My life has changed so much in the last nine months. I’m still sort of growing into my own skin. And you! Next year, when you finish law school, everything is going to change for you! Let’s end things now, on a high note, rather than dragging it on, getting too attached to each other, and having to end it painfully, because, inevitably, it
will
end.”

Aaron sighed and looked at the ceiling. “You’re right. I know you’re right. But I have to tell you,” he took a deep breath but didn’t look at me, “I’m not sure I consider this less painful.”

I was tempted to comfort him. I was tempted to snuggle into his arms and let him comfort me. But I was simply too afraid. Too afraid that if I held on for one more second, I’d never be able to let go. So I reverted to my standard coping mechanism: “Well, it’s less painful than dropping a box of porn on your foot, right?”

Aaron snorted and shook his head. “You are very good at that.” I knew what he meant: deflecting with humor. “And
that,
” he said, referring back to Scott’s box o’ porn, “is an image I will take with me forever.” We both laughed.

I shook my head again. “Poor Scott. I spent months incredulous that he didn’t really know me anymore. But I have to concede, I was just as guilty of neglect. I let that marriage die, too.”

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