Thrill Me

It was late. If he checked on his smartphone he could figure out how much time had passed since the astronomical twilight. Not that it mattered, but the thought of it made him smile.

He started the truck and headed toward the lake. At the light, he made a left turn, telling himself he wasn’t going to stop. He was just going to drive by.

When he got to Maya’s street, he slowed. Most of the houses were dark. It was still and quiet, with only a bit of moonlight filtering between the leaves of the trees. As he approached her house he saw the lights were on.

He pulled into her driveway and waited. Seconds later, her front door opened and she stood in the doorway. They stared at each other for a couple of heartbeats before he gave in to the inevitable.

There were a thousand reasons to walk away, but the need to be with her, to touch her and be touched was more powerful than any of them. He’d loved her once. Maybe that kind of intensity left a mark on a man. One that couldn’t be erased by time and distance.

Maybe it was just who she was, or who he was when he was around her. Maybe the draw couldn’t be explained. It simply was one of those strange laws of the universe.

He turned off the ignition and got out, then walked toward her. She stepped back into the house. He followed her inside and carefully closed the door behind himself.

She stood barefoot in a T-shirt and yoga pants. She’d washed off her makeup and her hair was long and loose. She looked as she had when he’d first met her. Young and sweet and sexy. He’d wanted her then—more than he’d ever wanted anyone else. That hadn’t changed. He still wanted her. The difference was, now he knew exactly what to do to please them both. And he could last longer than fifteen seconds.

“Hey,” he murmured, reaching for her.

“Hey, yourself.”

She stepped into his embrace. Their arms came around each other. She was soft and smelled good. Even better, she fit. The right height, the right curves. When he was around her, he wanted her. He supposed in some ways he had always wanted her.

He lowered his head and kissed her. She met him more than halfway, her lips already parted. There was no way he could resist that, resist her. He eased his tongue inside her mouth and felt the familiar heat slam into him.

She wrapped her arms around him, squirming to get closer. He tilted his head so he could deepen the kiss. At the same time he ran his hands up and down her back.

She was the perfect combination of curves and softness. He dug his fingers into her butt, bringing her lower body up against his. He was already hard and ready. She pressed her pelvis against his erection, arousing him until thinking became difficult and there was only wanting.

He drew back so he could kiss his way along her jawline, then nibbled on her earlobe. He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on the side of her neck. At the same time he reached for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. By the time he was tossing it away, she was already undoing her bra.

The fabric fell away. He cupped her breasts in his hands, feeling the weight of them, the softness of her skin. He didn’t get it. Men had skin and women had skin, but hers was a thousand times softer than his.

He shifted his fingers to her tight nipples. As he brushed his thumbs across the tips, her breath caught and her head fell back.

He wanted more of that, he thought as he lowered his head and captured her left nipple in his mouth. He wanted her gasping and panting, calling out. He wanted her naked and shuddering her release.

He remembered when they’d been together so many summers ago. They’d been so young. Inexperienced teenagers with more love than sense.

Hunger had burned hot and bright, and as they’d made out in the front seat of his car, he’d come in his jeans. He hadn’t said anything and she hadn’t realized. The darkness had concealed the telltale damp spot.

Later, when he’d finally seen her bare breasts, he’d had the same reaction. Touching them had been worse. He’d finally confessed, and she’d been nothing but fascinated by his body and how she affected him.

They’d progressed quickly from there, moving from the front seat to the backseat. Together they’d discovered what made her quiver. They’d found her clitoris together and learned what she liked. She’d learned how to stroke him to climax. Days later she’d gone down on him. A first for both of them.

The first time he’d come in her mouth, he’d thought he would die from the pleasure of it. He’d returned the favor and she’d screamed out her release. It had been weeks before they’d moved on. Weeks until they’d taken each other’s virginity.

He remembered everything about that night. How she’d carefully lowered herself onto his erection, sliding down until he’d filled her. She’d already pleased him once, so he’d been able to hang on for all of thirty seconds before exploding inside of her.

They’d practiced together, finding the right rhythm. They’d mastered the art of bringing her right to the edge, then having him thrust so they came together. They’d made love in her bed out at the ranch, whispering their love, kissing deeply through their releases so there wasn’t any sound.

Those old memories crowded up against current need. Del released her breasts and dropped to his knees. He pulled down her yoga pants and bikini panties in one quick tug. She’d barely stepped out of them when he gently parted her and pressed his mouth against the very heart of her.

Memories returned. Of how she liked an openmouthed kiss first. Soft, all lips. Then a light flick of his tongue—more teasing than passionate. He played until he felt tension start to tighten her muscles, until her breathing quickened. Only then did he settle down to a steady rhythm of moving his tongue against her clit. She grabbed the small entryway table behind her and hung on.