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“Doesn’t matter,” I said.

“Tell me anyway.”

I stifled a noise of frustration. The throb between my thighs was quickly becoming torturous. Neil tugged on my hair just enough to make my scalp sting with the sweetest pain. Arousal zinged through every nerve in my body, nipples hard, skin aching to be touched.

“Three,” I said quietly.

We weren’t married anymore so there was nothing shameful about it. When I started dating again, I went in with a clear head and remained laser-focused on my goal of finding a man who would be the father of my children some day. No rebounds. No one-night-stands to get my mind off Neil. It was all perfectly normal.

I still felt a little guilty though, knowing Neil hadn’t been with anyone else.

He searched my face now, pinning me with those stormy eyes that saw right through me and never looked away.

“Did they make you come so hard that your legs trembled, like I did?” he said.

I shook my head, tongue glued to the roof of my mouth.

“Did they eat you out until you couldn’t remember your own name?” he added.

I shook my head again, biting the inside of my cheek as the throb between my thighs bordered on painful. Holding Neil’s gaze, I slid his cut off his shoulders, draping it over a nearby chair. I knew it could never touch the floor, even in the heat of the moment. That would be disrespectful, a sin that the President’s woman would never dare to commit.

When Neil stripped off his shirt, I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Touching the tattoos on his chest, some faded with familiarity, others crisp and new.

There was my name, still inked over his heart. I had warned him not to do it.

What if you change your mind? What if you get sick of me ten years down the road and you don’t love me anymore?

Within an hour of saying our vows, Neil got the tattoo anyway. No hesitation. No doubts. He didn’t even wait for his red, inflamed skin to heal before he had my skirt up around my hips, panties pulled to the side, coaxing me down on his cock.

He took me by the wrist now and pressed my hand to the bulge of his jeans, half hard already from just one kiss.

“This is yours, sweetheart,” he said. “Always has been, always will be. And you’re long overdue for a ride.”

I exhaled, butterflies filling my stomach with anticipation. Hooking my fingers into his belt, I unclipped the buckle, dragging the zipper of his fly down.

“Fuuuck,baby,” he hissed, soft and low, as I wrapped my fingers around his cock.

He had more girth than any man I’d ever been with—before or since. My body must have remembered that wicked stretch, judging by the surge of need that jolted through my core, begging to be filled.

Neil wasted no time sliding his hands under my shirt to cup my breasts. I whined, pressing into his palms. There were too many layers of clothing between us. If he didn’t touch my bare skin everywhere in the next thirty seconds, I would lose my mind.

Reluctantly, I broke away. Shedding my shirt and shoes as fast as possible, I tried not to worry about what his reaction would be when he witnessed the changes to my body now that I was in my mid-forties. The last time he saw me naked, perimenopause and the stress of teaching hadn’t affected my figure yet. I didn’t have that flat, washboard stomach anymore that I’d taken for granted in my twenties. My breasts had lost their perkiness, too, and my thighs were dimpled with cellulite.

To make matters worse, I was wearing the most unflattering beige bra I owned.

But Neil’s pupils dilated full black anyway. Just like they always did when he saw me half-naked in my bra and jeans.

Some things never change,I thought.

Neil dipped his head, sucking a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the top of one breast, then the other. I fumbled at the clasp of my bra, desperate to get it off. He set to work on my jeans, peeling them down my legs along with my panties.

I gasped as he slid two thick, callused fingers between my thighs, curling upward.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Why are you so tight? Have you been fucking dudes with grass blades for dicks?”

“Fishing for compliments?” I shot back.

He arched an eyebrow and twisted his fingers deeper. My body bowed, muscles tense, pleasure rushing all the way down to my toes. I clutched his bicep for support, digging my nails into his skin.