“You don’t need to talk to Kate?”
He frowns. “I said everything I needed to say. She knows I’m with you and that it’s serious. The divorce will need to be refiled, but that can wait a few days. Let’s just go. We can buy whatever we need on the way.”
He’s so certain about this, about me, that he doesn’t understand why I’m asking the question.
“Yeah, okay,” I say with a grin. “Let’s go away. If we can even find a place…It’s a holiday weekend, so—”
“I might have already booked something,” he says with a grin.
He wasn’t on his phone dealing with work. He was booking us a place. After more than twenty years of waiting for him, we’re finally on the same page.
IT TAKES two hours to reach our mystery destination. After running into one store for bathing suits, t-shirts and shorts, and another for toothbrushes, he pulls up in front of a massive wrought-iron fence and consults his phone for the gate code.
“I thought you said it was a cottage?” I ask as he punches the numbers in.
“It’s only three bedrooms, therefore a cottage.” He grins at me. “But I wanted to make sure we had some privacy.”
My nipples tighten under his darkening gaze, and there’s a flutter between my legs. It’s only been two weeks, but it feels like months since I was last beneath him.
We head down a long driveway and park in front of the ‘cottage,’ which is larger than his house and mine put together. I follow him through the front door and stare wide-eyed at the place he chose. It’s perfect—a daydream of black-lacquered hardwood and crisp white furniture.
He hits a button and the entire glass back wall of the house slides open to the long rectangular pool. Beyond it, a sweeping backyard leads to the sea.
“Holy shit, Caleb,” I whisper, walking toward the back. “For a guy who once complained about a nearly free walking program, you’ve really done a one-eighty.”
“Claiming the walking program was ‘nearly free’ doesn’t make it so,” he says with a playful growl, climbing into a lounge chair facing the ocean and pulling me into his lap. “You do realize that, right?”
I press a hand to his chest. "I bet it cost less than renting this place for an entire weekend.”
“Key difference: the walking program didn’t involve you naked part of the time.”
I look at the high hedges surrounding us on both sides. “I suspect I could be naked for all of it if you’d like.”
He nuzzles my neck, his large hands palming my ass. Beneath me, he is already hard. “Let’s start now.”
"Should we go upstairs?” I suggest, turning to straddle him. His cock is pressed between my legs, so engorged it must be painful.
"Or," he says, slipping his fingers between my legs, pulling my panties to the side, "I could just fuck you right here. Jesus, you're so wet already."
I glance over my shoulder. The hedges block most of the view but not from the beach. "Someone could see."
His hand slides up the front of my blouse and he groans as his palm covers one breast. “I’ll risk it if you will.”
He unbuttons my shirt and tugs the bra low, and when his mouth tightens around one nipple, then the other, I no longer care who sees. They can film it and play it on a Jumbotron at local games for all I care.
He lifts his hips as I drag his pants and boxers down.
I grasp his cock and slip it between my legs, letting it press to my entrance, drawing out the delicious tension.
“You’re killing me,” he grunts, and I lower myself onto him, burrowing into his neck to muffle my groan.
His hands go to my hips, a silent plea for more, and I begin to move, clenching each time I rise up. Clench, release, clench, release. The breeze blows cool against my bare back, while inside me he is hot and slick and perfect.
His head falls back against the chair. "I can't get enough of this," he says, almost to himself, looking up at me through hazy eyes. The sun dances lazily over my forehead, my cheekbones. The world grows Technicolor, like a child's drawing—the hedges the most verdant green, the pool the deepest blue.
His lips pull fiercely on my nipple, too rough, his abandon the surest sign that he is losing control. He dwarfs me in size, he commands the respect of hundreds, but right here he is all mine—this man who takes orders from no one, a slave to my slow, drawn-out movements.
I sink down again, squeezing as I reach his base. My nerves fire a warning.