Fourth Down Baby: A May-December Romance (10 page)

Troy nods, already heading off. “Don't forget the rehearsal dinner in an hour!”

* * *

T
he next day
, the weather is picture perfect as Troy and Whitney finally cap what has to be the strangest, most up and down romance that I can think of. When Troy finally kisses his bride, Dani's openly bawling, but laughing and cheering at the same time.

Throughout the ceremony, I exchange glances with Patricia, who looks more beautiful than I've ever seen her in the blue Vera Wang dress that Troy bought for her and Dani. She doesn't even need to change for the reception. In fact, Whitney doesn't either, just letting her hair down as everyone waits for the reception area to be set up. I don't think the caterer was really expecting the size of the people they were serving, and League players are pretty much tornadoes on any plate of food.

After the cake, it's time to dance, and Troy gives me a knowing nod. I'm suddenly nervous. I mean, all the talk about the setup, all the talk about the fun of stretching out an unplanned prank to the final conclusion, and now it's here. Put up or shut up time, and I'm not having to fake the tremble in my knees as I make my way over to Troy and Whitney's table.

“Congratulations again, guys,” I say, then wipe at my forehead before trying to smooth out my hair. “Uh . . . Whitney, would you be too upset if I asked your mom to dance with me?"

Whitney stops and sees what's in my body language and face before laughing happily and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Just be careful."

After a few more words with Troy and Whit, I make my way across the floor, and like at Dani's wedding, a lot of motion stops. The football players don't understand it, so they keep doing their thing, but Dani and Pete do, along with Coach Jackson, and I think it's finally dawning on him what's been driving me for so long.

“Patricia,” I say, swallowing the nervousness that isn't an act at all. “I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of this dance?”

She pauses and studies me for a moment, then leans over to Coach Jackson's wife. “What do you think?”

“I'd say make a decision quickly. He looks ready to pee himself he's so nervous,” she says.

Patricia smiles and holds up her hand. I take it, and with seemingly agonizing slowness, she rises gracefully from her chair, and I take her by the hand to the center of the dance floor. I take her in my arms, and I'm shocked at the feeling. It feels . . . perfect.

She moves closer, and we dance slowly. I don't care who’s watching or if Whitney even understands. I'll tell her later, anyway. What matters is the beautiful woman in my arms and the feeling inside me.

“I'm gonna have to come up with a new nickname for you,” Dani says, tapping my shoulder. I look up and realize that Patricia and I have been dancing for multiple songs now. I've lost track of time. Troy and Whit have disappeared somewhere, and I see that the reception is breaking up. “Actually, would you be too jealous if I had a dance with my friend here?”

“Not at all,” Patricia says, stepping back, her brown eyes gleaming intensely with a deep-seated feeling that's been burning inside me too.

Dani tugs my hand, and I turn to her, smiling. “You two looked so cute out there. I felt bad asking for my own dance.”

“Well, if anyone gets rights to interrupt, it's you,” I tell her. It's a tune from high school, a little more upbeat. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Dani says, chuckling. “I joked about it with Troy and Whit, and I think with you too, but between the three of you guys, you're the ones who inspired me to go into psychology. Someone had to remain somewhat sane in this group of friends.”

“Well, it's not over yet,” I admit, glancing over at Patricia, who's smiling and watching me with warm eyes. “Harley, I know there are going to be challenges. I mean, we live hundreds of miles apart. But she's worth it.”

“So are you. You know you're one of my three favorite guys in the world, and I'm glad to have been here tonight.”

The music slows, and I give Dani a hug. “Thanks, Dani. Hey, do you think Whit noticed?”

Dani shrugs and gives me a classic Harley grin. “Who knows, puddin'? She was so caught up in Troy, you could’ve dropped a safe on her head and she might not have noticed. I think she had the right idea, myself.”

I laugh and look over at Patricia, who's still watching me. “I like that idea. Actually, I think it's time to take a walk, Harley. You and Pete take care tonight.”

“We will. We're watching Laurie, giving the newlyweds a bit of privacy. You take care too.” Dani gives me a smile, and I walk back to the edge of the dance floor, holding my hand out to Patricia.

“Up for a walk on the beach?”

She nods and stands up. “Nothing would be better.”

W
e leave
our shoes at the edge of the beach, since the sun is down and the sand isn't burning. In fact, it's warm and comfortable, and the waves are gentle on the beach, not crashing or obliterating the quiet, surreal feeling that I'm having as Cory takes my hand and we start walking. “So how do you feel?”

“About which part?” I ask, smiling softly. “The fact that my daughter's now married, or that you and I danced in front of everyone?”

Cory chuckles and looks over, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight. The sky is clear, and the nearly full moon gives us enough light that we can walk easily without any other light. It's romantic, and I can feel the tingle that's been building inside me ever since he took my hand for our first dance grow. “I guess all of it, but let's talk about Whit and Troy first. Not that I don't want to talk about the dance, but I'm still wrapping my head around it all. Besides, it seems so intertwined, you know?”

“It has been,” I agree. “As to Whit and Troy, I'm happy for them. I guess every mother wants their daughter to be both a beautiful bride and to have a good husband, and Whitney was both. I couldn't be happier about that.”

Cory nods and laughs softly. “Dani was right. She told me as she and I had that little dance how those two and I inspired her to go into studying psychology. We're a bunch of basket cases, but I don't think I'd have it any other way.”

“I wouldn't call you a basket case, unless there's room for four in that basket,” I reply, and Cory adjusts his hold, putting his arm around my shoulder. “So many years. How'd we get here after all this time?”

“By being crazy, stupid, and add any other adjectives you might want to use to describe me,” Cory chuckles, giving me a squeeze.

He pulls me in and wraps his arms around my waist, and I'm aware of only the moonlight reflecting in his eyes, the pull between us, and the warmth that's been building in my belly. He bends his head, and our lips meet. He hasn't been the only one dreaming about this kiss, and it's as perfect as I imagined it to be. He's strong but gentle, and as it deepens, I can feel him holding back, respecting me. It gives me the courage to do what I want to do next.

Hesitantly, I let my lips part, and I reach out with my tongue, pulling Cory closer as he reciprocates, and electricity shoots through my body as his tongue touches mine for the first time. I moan softly, and his hands start moving, stroking the soft silk back of my dress, and I feel wildly, wonderfully alive.

Cory breaks our kiss and steps back, stars in his eyes. “That was . . . that was everything I thought it could be.”

I step closer and wrap my arms around his neck again. “Me too. But I want more.”

He looks into my eyes, and I nod slowly. We speak to each other without moving our mouths, and he nods in reply. His hands come to my waist again, and we kiss once more, but this time, there's no space between us. He pulls me against him, his arms strong and molding our bodies together. His right hand comes down to slide over the curve of my hip, and I moan again into his mouth, wanting him so much I can barely breathe.

Gasping, I break our kiss, clinging to him as he trails his lips down my neck, lifting me in his arms and carrying me the short distance to a patch of grass at the edge of the beach. We tumble to the soft ground, and my body is singing in pleasure.

I reach down, grabbing his butt and pulling him against me, a deep hunger flaring in me when I feel the bulge in his pants pressing against me. “Cory . . .”

He lays me back on the grass and pulls at the straps on my dress, stopping when he realizes that there's nothing underneath me. He sits up and shrugs off his coat, laying it down as protection against the prickly grass, and I sit up, scooching over. Before I can lie down, he takes me in his arms, and he slowly pulls the shoulder straps on my dress to the side, baring my body to him. I'm shy at first until I see the desire in his eyes, and I lower my hands, instead putting them on each side of his face and looking into his eyes. “You make me feel beautiful.”

“Shh,” Cory whispers. “No more talking.” He kisses down my throat, my heart stopping when he nibbles on the soft skin, and I cry out softly when his right hand comes up, cupping my breast for the first time. My skin is electric, pins and needles of pleasure and passion shooting through me as he massages my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple. He leans me back onto his jacket.

I want him so badly, but his clothes are in the way, and with an animal desire I've never felt before, I tug at his shirt, desperate to get it out of his pants and to feel his skin pressed against mine. I'm nearly sobbing in pleasure and frustration when Cory kisses my right breast, sucking my nipple between his lips and causing the world to explode in fireworks of sensation. The fire between my thighs is nearly unbearable, and I can't believe how good this feels. “Cory . . . I need you . . .”

“Shh,” he repeats. “Let’s just enjoy this.” He lifts my right foot and moves between my legs. He sees the hunger in my eyes and pauses, unbuttoning the top three buttons on his shirt before pulling it over his head, tossing it onto the grass beside us. He's beautiful in the moonlight, his body lean and long-muscled, athletic without the bulk of all the football players that I've been surrounded by for the past twenty-four hours. It's everything I imagined in my fantasies, but even better, because he's here, and he's real. Cory's handsome and athletic in a way that fans the passion inside me, but most of all, it's his eyes that burn into me and the desire in them that tell me everything I need to know.

He runs his hands up my thighs, pushing my dress higher so that it's now nothing more than a band of fabric between my breasts and my waist, looking down at my soaked panties. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and looks into my eyes, waiting for my silent approval before he eases them down and off, leaving me exposed and open to him. He gathers my panties in his hand and brings them up, inhaling the aroma before smiling and setting them aside.

He reaches forward and cups my mound, his hand gentle and strong. I'm shocked, gasping at how good it feels. This is better than any fantasy with a toy or even touching myself. This is real. This is Cory.

His finger slips between my lips, and I moan softly, feeling him caress my inner flesh and deep places. I want him so badly, but he's being patient, opening my body slowly. He knows it's been a long time, probably for both of us, and in his caresses, I can feel that he wants to take care of me, to hold me and give me everything my heart desires.

I'm lost in the warm ripples of pleasure that come from his finger stroking up and down my lips, never quite reaching the nub at the top but coming close, teasing me, until I hear a zipper, and Cory shifts again, pushing his pants down. I look down, and he's even better than my fantasy, long and just the right thickness that I know he'll reach all the secret places inside me.

Cory shifts again, grabbing for the foil packet and ripping it open with his teeth, leaving me in agonizing anticipation. He rolls it on effortlessly and lines himself up with me, and I feel a surge within me as he strokes the head of his cock between my lips, gathering the wetness there and smearing it around the tip. He shudders, and I realize . . . he has been saving himself. He's been saving himself for me, for this one moment, and in that instant, I love him. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him forward.

The feeling of his cock sinking into me is the greatest pleasure I've ever felt in my life. He goes so slowly, each of us savoring every precious bit, and as he settles deep within me, Cory takes my hands, his fingers entwining with mine and his eyes finding mine.

He pulls back, thrusting slowly in again, and I'm caught in a wave as with every slow, tender stroke, my idea of perfection keeps getting pushed higher and higher. His cock is perfect, thrusting in and out in a steadily increasing pace, our bodies moving together.

Cory leans down and we kiss again, our lips and our bodies joined and creating a loop of warm pleasure as he plunges in and out now, taking me and claiming me as his. I let go of his hands and wrap my arms around his back, urging him on, and he responds, faster and harder.

“Cory . . . yes, yes . . . that's it . . .” I moan as his hips begin to slap into mine, his cock hard and long, lighting every nerve inside me on fire. He's pressed on top of me, his strong body pushing me into the sandy grass, and I'm in heaven, my legs wrapped around him and in a place I've never, ever felt before.

His groans are music to my ears, and I urge him faster, begging him in wordless gasps to take me, to make me his forever. He thrusts harder and faster, pushing my body to places it's never been before, pleasure and ecstasy and amazing fireworks shooting through my entire body. Suddenly, he stops, and I look at him, confused. “What are you doing? I was so close.”

“It ripped,” he says, looking down.

“Who cares? Finish!” I beg him, not caring. I'm over forty now. My time is probably up anyway.

He looks at me for a second and then continues his onslaught with fast, full strokes.

I can tell that he’s on the verge too, and I feel him tremble, his cock swelling inside me. I clutch at his back, pulling him in tighter.

Cory grunts and gasps, and I explode, my body tightening around him before time stops and I'm caught in the throes of my orgasm. It's never been this good, this perfect, and I want to stay here forever as Cory thrusts one last time.

His cock erupts, and time starts again just as I’m able to hear him cry out. I hold on as he quivers and quakes before collapsing on top of me, still careful to not crush me underneath his powerful body. I keep my legs wrapped around him, savoring each precious second of him inside me and the feeling of his arms holding me closely.

It's well after midnight when Cory walks me back to my bungalow, my dress kind of smoothed out, his suit . . . not so much. “Thank you for a wonderful evening,” I say, pausing at the door and wrapping my arms around his neck. We kiss again, and it's just as wonderful as the first one. “So will I see you for breakfast?”

Cory nods and pulls me close. He starts to speak before words fail him. I know what he wants to say, though, and he doesn't need to explain. We kiss one last time, and he steps back. “I'll see you at breakfast.”

He waits while I open the door to my bungalow and go inside, and after the door closes, I hear his footsteps on the concrete path, and I go to bed, feeling that I may be falling in love.

* * *

I
wake
up to the sound of knocking on my door, and I stretch, my body sore but in a pleasant way that I've never felt before. Glancing over, I'm surprised to see that it's nearly ten in the morning, but before I can panic, I remember that I'm on vacation. I'm allowed to sleep in.

The knocking comes again, and I get up, pulling the light cotton robe I'm using in the tropical warmth over my shoulders. I see a note under my door, and I pick it up before I open the door to find Whitney standing there, looking excited, concerned, and happy in a bikini top and some linen shorts. “Mom?”

“Whitney, come in,” I reply, stepping back. “Have a seat.”

I go back to the bedroom and drop my robe, opening the note. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the name at the bottom isn't, and I smile as I re-read it.

Dear Patricia,

I woke up this morning, and the only thing that could have made things better was if you'd have been there in my arms.

I was going to come in and wake you up, but Whitney is giving me a few looks over breakfast as I write this, and I think you and her need to have a little talk. In the meantime, I'm going to go for a jog with Troy, and we can catch up this afternoon.

Last night did happen, didn't it?

Yours always,

Cory

* * *

I
fold
the note and put it on my pillow. Going over to my suitcase, I take out my own swimsuit, nowhere near as sexy as Whitney's bikini, but then again, I hadn't planned on wanting to look sexy. I pull it on and then add my own shorts, and I run a quick brush through my hair after brushing my teeth.