Sam had to work another long shift, so I wouldn’t see him again until Sunday. I had to settle for a few text exchanges and a couple dirty fantasies. The painters were finished and the house looked amazing. I told Alex I’d definitely be recommending him and his crew to anyone who asked. The guys all waved goodbye, except for the one named Tyler who still couldn’t look me in the eye after his little peeping Tom incident—not that it was really his fault.

I spent the better part of Saturday planting brightly-colored flowers in pots on the porch before adding more around the sides of the house. It was astonishing what a couple coats of paint and some bright colors could do. It was a whole new house. This was the vibe I wanted for our new life—cheerful, positive, homey. My fears about Kate and Eileen’s reactions all but dissipated as I gazed at my porch.

While the house looked great, my clothes were another story. Dirt streaked my t-shirt and shorts, and I even found some potting soil in my shoes when I removed them in the garage. Careful not to track anything inside, I stripped off most of my clothes in the inside doorway and headed straight to my bathroom for a shower. Once I was clean and dressed, I clicked on the TV and went to have a look in the refrigerator. I hadn’t made any plans for my dinner and it was slim pickings, so I threw together a turkey sandwich and plopped my butt on the couch.

I glanced at the TV and did a double take. One guess as to the face gracing my TV screen.

“This is Emberly Peters, reporting for Channel 6 News. A couple in North Sunview received the surprise of their lives upon waking this morning.”

I tuned out her words—something about a python in an elderly couple’s yard. I’d have to process that nightmare later. Instead, my attention was drawn to the reporter’s appearance. Emberly’s rich auburn hair lay in a shiny cascade around her shoulders. I noticed the blending of color Jill had mentioned, but couldn’t find anything wrong with it. The effect perfectly highlighted her flawless face. This woman was gorgeous. And probably about the same age as me. But she looked like the after picture to my before shot.

I looked down at my tank top and the small, stubborn pooch of my belly. My hand pressed into it, trying in vain to force it back in.

Another peek at the screen showed Emberly nodding understandingly to the older man as he told his harrowing tale. She towered over him at what I guessed was probably at least five-foot-ten. The camera zoomed in as she wrapped up her report. Damn! There was not a single wrinkle on that woman’s face! So unfair!

I was beginning to side with Jill in her utter dislike of Emberly Peters. She was absolutely stunning. And she was Sam’s ex.

Oh, God.

If this was what Sam was used to, what was he doing with me? I was a single mom with a ton of baggage and more than a few stretch marks. Not to mention my general argumentative nature that unfailingly reared its head whenever Sam turned up.

I quickly snapped the TV off, tossing the remote aside as if it were covered in fire ants. My sandwich lay forgotten on the coffee table.

I drew in a deep breath and ordered my heart to stop racing. Better—not by much, but I was getting there. Okay, Jenna, cut this shit out! My eyes closed, and then I released a humorless laugh. Jesus Christ. I was behaving as if I were Sam’s new girlfriend, not his temporary fuck-buddy. What did he care if I didn’t measure up to his ex? I’d invited him into my bed, insisting on no strings, and basically guaranteeing a two-week fuckathon. What guy wouldn’t say yes to that? It wasn’t like I was hideous. I knew I was cute, at the very least.

I wanted to smack myself for creating drama where it didn’t belong. Yes, I understood that my experience with Mike had fostered feelings of deep inadequacy, but I’d been dealing with those and doing a pretty good job of it, I thought.

Nevertheless, as I picked up my sandwich again, I vowed to only watch Channel 12 News in the future. Some lessons didn’t need to be taught twice.

* * *

“I’ll be out in just a minute!” I called through the bathroom door.

“I’m not sure I have the patience. My body has become addicted to you—if I weren’t in my cruiser I probably would have been stopped for speeding on the way here.”

I grinned to myself. The day and a half we’d spent apart had been rough on me as well. Who knew it was so easy to get addicted to sex after just a couple days? I didn’t even want to think about the detoxing I’d need to undergo when the girls got home. An investment in batteries was in order, that was a certainty.

Sam had shown up at my door earlier than expected and practically mauled me in the doorway. I could only imagine what the neighbors were thinking—but at least nobody would be feeling sorry for me, that’s for sure. I managed to eventually close the door, but our mouths didn’t separate for a good five minutes. The taste and smell of this man melted me into a puddle of goo.

When we finally broke apart, I remembered my plan for the evening—which had gone off course the moment of Sam’s arrival. I’d planned to greet him at the door in my new bra and panty set, and hopefully knock his socks off. Instead, I was in a tank top and cut-offs. So I ushered Sam in and told him to wait on the couch while I went to sexify myself. Ignoring my instructions, as usual, he followed me to the bedroom where I had to lock the bathroom door to keep him from entering. Big baby.

“So that’s why you were early? You didn’t switch your car out?” He usually drove his Jeep Cherokee when he wasn’t on duty.

“Not tonight. I wanted to see you.”

That was sweet. And hot. My pulse picked up and I did an inward happy dance.

I adjusted the bra cups and pushed my boobs up so they sat like apples on a plate, waiting to be plucked. Ha—that was appropriate. I’d already run a brush through my hair and swished some mouthwash around. I reached for the panties where they rested on my vanity.

But when I put one foot through, I noticed something odd. Damn. Were these ripped? I’d paid good money for these and they had a rip down the—oh shit! That was no rip. These were crotchless panties!!

Oh my God. Had Jill known that? What was I saying—of course she had. Her apartment was probably echoing with her peals of laughter at this very moment. Sexy underwear is one thing, but crotchless panties? Yikes!

Sam was waiting on me and I had to think fast. Nobody had to know my underwear had an easy-entry feature. I’d show Sam my outfit and then just remove it before he noticed. That would totally work. Feeling better, I placed my other foot in and pulled the lace up. There. Problem solved.

Stepping hesitantly from the bathroom, I could feel Sam’s eyes on me before I saw them. If eyes could talk, his would have to be washed out with soap for all the filthy messages they were sending me. Hot damn!

“Fuck, you’re hot,” was the phrase that finally dropped from his lips.

My cheeks warmed, as did the rest of me, and I forgot all about anything except Sam as he approached me. I reached out for him, but he brushed my hands aside.

“Give me a minute. I want to look at you.”

Without thought, my hands retreated and moved directly to my stomach, hiding my imperfections from his intense examination.

He shook his head and pushed my hands aside again. “Don’t do that.” Then he dropped to his knees and placed his lips to the left of my belly button where my first stretch mark began. His soft lips whispered over my skin, landing at the lace band of my panties.

My breath was coming out in ragged pants as his lips continued their journey across my lower belly and then made a detour to my thigh. I could feel Sam’s warm breath settle over my skin and then he was placing kisses in a trail toward my inner thigh. I could feel myself practically shaking at the sensation. It was a perfect mix of anticipation, awareness, and pure primal need.

Sam’s hands came up to grip the backs of my thighs and then his nose was buried in the red lace of my new panties. He groaned something unintelligible and pressed in farther, bringing his mouth in contact with the lace. I think it was safe to say he liked my purchase.

The next few seconds unfolded in slow motion. Sam’s mouth descended and my eyes went wide as realization hit me like a two by four to the face. I jerked back as Sam drew his head back, eyes firmly planted on my crotch, and grated out the words, “Fuck. Me.”

Before I knew what happened, I found myself on the other side of a locked bathroom door, my hand holding it closed as if robbers lurked on the other side, intent on stealing my naughty underwear.

“What the hell, Jenna?” Sam grunted through the door.

I covered my eyes with my free hand, my mind racing. What was he thinking right now? As far as I knew, only people in pornos wore crotchless panties, not thirty-four-year-old suburban mothers. I either looked like a tacky weirdo who was trying way too hard, or a panting porn star, neither being the image I was striving for.

It had been going so well before I completely lost my head. How hard was it to pull off a pair of panties? Jesus. That man turned my mind to mush.

“Jenna.” He knocked on the door this time. “What’s wrong? You seemed like you were into it.”

I thunked my head on the door. Was it possible he hadn’t noticed the gaping hole in my panties?

“I gotta say, the panties were a surprise. I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.” I could hear the freaking smirk in his voice.

“I didn’t know,” I muttered.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

I spoke a little louder, but not much. “I didn’t know,” I repeated.

“You didn’t know what?”

I bit my lip for a minute and then blurted out, “I didn’t know the panties had a goddamn doggie door!”

He coughed out a laugh and I wanted to disappear into the floor. This was so embarrassing.

“I think, technically, it’s more of a kitty door.” He couldn’t hide his chuckle.

Without thinking, I swung the door open. “Don’t you dare laugh at me!” But it was no use. He bit his lips to try and keep it in but it only made it worse. His dark eyes were swimming with mirth. A deep laugh rolled over him.

Without my permission, my lips began to curve. I couldn’t help it. It was contagious. A snicker escaped, and then I was laughing right along with Sam.

“It’s not funny,” I attempted, but my own laughter mitigated any strength the reprimand might have held.

How we could go from intense sensuality, to arguing, to tears of laughter was beyond me, but there we were. Sam reached out for me and I let him pull me into his arms, both of us laughing into each other’s necks. He gave me a squeeze and finally sighed. “You are really something, Jenna Watson.”

“Right back atcha,” I said into his neck, still unable to repress my smile.

We stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, even after the laughter completely subsided. We just held one another in silence, our bodies only moving with our breathing. It felt amazing to be embraced so affectionately, so fully. I didn’t know if I’d ever had this in my life.

But I must have, right? When Mike and I were first together, surely we’d spent endless moments wrapped up in each other. But my mind was unable to conjure a single memory of any such embrace. Maybe I’d come up with something later, but for now, Sam was the only man on my mind.

Eventually, Sam pulled back and carefully placed his hands on either side of my neck. His eyes traveled from mine to my mouth and over my entire face. It felt as if I were being consumed by his smoky gaze. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned in ever so slowly and placed a reverent kiss on my lips. I found that mine were trembling.

I didn’t understand what was happening to me, but my body seemed to, because my lips didn’t hesitate to return the gentle kiss as I allowed him to walk me backward toward my bed.

“Jenna.” It wasn’t a question or a summons. It was an entreaty.

I heard myself answer, “Yes.”

And then I was on the bed and Sam was peeling my new undergarments from my body, following the path with little licks and kisses. I helped him shed his clothes as he worked my body into a shivering ball of want and need, his hands and mouth combining to bring me pleasure.

“I need you, Sam.” My words were practically a whimper. I doubted there was a force on earth that could stop us at this point.

I reached between us and led him to my center, and he didn’t hesitate before driving into me in one hard thrust. My breath was a gasp, joined by his groan of pleasure. We began to move together in unison. It was as if we’d been practicing this dance for years, not days, each of us meeting the other’s movements and establishing a perfect rhythm.

With the long build-up, my orgasm took me in no time. I bit into Sam’s shoulder as the heady sensations took over. He continued to thrust into me, finally shouting my name with his release minutes later. I groaned and stroked his back and hair, reveling in the feeling of this man in my arms, in my bed. Mine.

No. I jolted back into reality. No. No, no, no.

Sam must have felt my sudden movement because he raised his head and gave me a slightly distracted questioning look.

No. Sam wasn’t mine. This was not real life—this was my sexcation, my reclaiming of my sexuality, my identity. This was about me, not about us. The only us I had room for in my life was my girls and me. We were an us; not Sam and me.

But something inside me was trying to claim him, and I couldn’t have that.

Understanding that something was wrong, Sam pulled back farther. “Jenna, what is it?”

I just shook my head, unable to verbalize my feelings. My mind was racing as fast as my heart, both of them seemingly in a competition to see who could kill me first.

Sam’s brows were drawn together tightly. “What—” he began and then his face went ashen. It was my turn to be confused. “Fuck!” he practically shouted and sprang off of me and onto his knees, his eyes darting down to his cock. His still semi-erect and entirely unsheathed cock.

Holy. Shit.