Page 51 of Afternoon Delight

Meg

We walked to the nearest hotel so we didn’t have to move our cars. It was a five-star place with a four-poster king-size bed and a balcony overlooking the harbor. I wanted to stay the weekend, or at least the night, but he only had an hour. He even set his phone alarm in case we fell asleep.

“You can stay,” he said, peeling off his shirt. “One of us should use it for the night.”

“I’m not staying without you.” I closed the blackout drapes and came to slide my hands over his bare chest.

He sucked in a breath, hollowing his stomach, then dipped his head to give me a rough, hungry kiss.

“Want to get super kinky and do it missionary?” he asked.

“If you say you want to look into my eyes, you’ll hit my hard limit.”

“Ha,” he barked, then patted his jeans. “I have condoms, but I don’t have lube. The condoms weren’t on purpose. I’ve taken to carrying them like an EpiPen. In case of emergency.”

“This feels like an emergency. Way to be a Boy Scout. I’ll run down to the gift shop.”

“No, I’ll go down. On you, I mean.”

“I thought we just negotiated that I would lie still and act like I’m doing you a favor.”

“I’m really turned on by that, actually. Why are you still dressed?”

I took off my boots and pulled off my pullover, not giving myself time to catch a case of the nerves as I asked, “What if I want to go down?”

“On me? Have at it. My cock is your cock. That’s how the saying goes, doesn’t it?”

“Not quite, but I meant together. At the same time.” Joel and I had tried a sixty-nine in the early years, but mostly stuck to straight screwing. I was invariably on top because he had literally expected me to do everything for him.

Zak dropped his hands to his naked hips, cock thickening, black socks still on his feet. “Exactly how much do you want to corrupt this missionary, Megan?”

“Excuse me, sir, but Meg is short for Margaret.” I straightened from kicking off my jeans, now down to my bra and underwear. When I saw the shock on his face, I started sputtering with laughter. “Is this really news to you? You didn’t know my name ?”

“Are you messing with me? I genuinely thought Meg was short for Megan.”

“How dare you. Megan is a pretty cheerleader with perky tits and an ass you can bounce quarters off of. I’m named for my mom’s maiden aunt who never had children.

By choice. She worked for a company that printed women’s magazines and wrote articles about feminism.

She was built like a rectangle.” I waved at my figure, which was as square as my personality.

“We’ve established that I like magazines with women in them, so I think we would have gotten along great.

” He dragged me close and kissed me, fingers working to drop my bra straps off my shoulders.

His erection pressed into my belly, the tip leaking against my skin.

His hand slipped into the back of my underwear, palming my ass.

I released my bra and pulled back enough to drag it out from between us, then went back to sucking the tongue that was invading my mouth.

I rubbed my breasts against his chest, loving the feel of him.

In the last few years, sex had become a touch-and-go thing for me.

I hadn’t been all that interested for a long time.

I’d blamed stress and a stale marriage and perimenopause, but now I was feeling the want again.

That horny need to fool around and enjoy the process, not just get ’er done.

I shifted so I could fondle and stroke his cock, loving the feel of it—sleek and hot and hard.

“Babe.” He lifted his head, eyelids heavy, cheeks flushed, lips shiny. “You know I’m going to come down your throat if you sit on my face and suck my cock? I’m ready to come right now.”

I circled my thumb over his frenulum, making him twitch and pulse in my grip. “I can live with that.”

He groaned and pulled me onto the bed.

It was awkward at first as we bumped around trying to get into position, but he groaned again when I closed my mouth over his tip. I moaned as his tongue began sliding between my lips, searching out my clit.

His hands never stopped moving and neither did his tongue. It was kind of distracting in the best possible way, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to be creative. I just sucked, and he seemed fine with that, pulsing his hips as I rocked mine against his face.

I wasn’t planning to swallow, but when I was getting close, he stuck two fingers in my pussy and sucked hard on my clit.

A sharp twist of pleasure went through my uterus, radiating waves of sensation that reached all the way to my nipples.

I came hard all over his face, moaning and writhing, completely lost to the moment.

When his come hit the back of my throat, I reacted out of self-preservation, but I didn’t mind.

I felt smug and close to him as we lay top to toe, sweaty and salty and still trying to catch our breath.

“I have to get in the shower or I’ll fall asleep,” Zak said into the silence. “But that was incredible, Meg. I would’ve been happy if you had just let me cry on your tits, but that...” He rolled to set a kiss against my thigh, beard still damp. “Shower with me?”

“Sure.”

He was the king of afterplay—necking and soaping me, fingering me until I had another little orgasm in the shower.

“So conceited,” I accused, catching his self-congratulatory grin as we dried off.

“That was a thank-you for riding my face like a bar bull.”

“Anytime, sailor.” I slid my arms around his neck, and we kissed once more. But as we drew back, we got tangled in a stare full of all sorts of things—sensual memory, yes, but also the heavier things. The knowledge of how transitory this was. How brief a future we had.

He sighed, sounding so weary my heart broke for him.

I’d been on a similar journey, the kind where you stepped off the train once in a while to stretch your legs and breathe some fresh air, but you always had to get back on and there was no sign of your destination.

Not one that you really wanted to reach, anyway.

Dementia was a particularly long and grueling track. I had a friend in Toronto who’d gone through it with her mom. At least with my dad, he’d had bouts of better health, and until the final few days, he’d retained enough of his faculties to make decisions about his own care.

With Dale, Zak and Zara would have to make decisions for him, like when to take his car keys or when caring for him was more than they could manage at home.

We parted a few minutes later, but I texted Zak when I got home to say good night. In the morning, I texted again, asking if he wanted anything from Brim Stokers.

Nothing.

He didn’t come into the store at the usual time, either.

I did get a text from Georgia saying that Gail was coming to pick up a few things from Tap That. Apparently, one of the yacht owners had a special request.

Georgia:

Can you pull the stock for the online orders? I’ll send them while we’re out.

I sent Georgia a thumbs-up, then texted Zak again.

Everything okay?

Crickets.

I didn’t feel ghosted so much as worried. He finally popped his head in around lunchtime.

“I couldn’t find my phone,” he said. “Dad put it in the dishwasher. I didn’t notice until I was putting the clean dishes away. That was after I spent all morning looking for it. Then I had to run to the mall to get a new one.”

“Good times.”

“So fun. Now he’s mad because I was mad. I have to get back.” He nodded toward the antique shop.

“Text me later, once you’ve got the new phone set up. Is it a new number?”

“Nope. Text me something filthy. Cheer me up.”

I was positioning sex toys in comical poses and sending him snapshots when Georgia walked in.

I had forgotten she was coming and felt as though she’d caught me disrespecting her merchandise, seeing as I’d pulled the plush bunny from the front window and tangled him upside down in the swing ropes.

He wore a bright purple strap-on around his middle.

“Um...” I scratched my upper lip and told her why Zak needed a pick-me-up. “You look great,” I added.

“Thanks.”

She really did. She was moving around without holding onto anything. Her sandals, flowing skirt, and low-necked top were breezy and bright. Her hair was growing out into a thicker cap of tight curls. She wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup, but she’d put on some lashes and a mauve lipstick.

“This came up well.” She ran her hand over the lid of the credenza Zak had polished. From inside it, Peaches and Herb were murmuring about being Reunited .

A pang of loss hit me.

This was what I’d wanted—for Georgia to walk back into her store and absently straighten a book on the rack and take in Mom’s latest table display with a cocked eyebrow.

The theme was Tiptoe Through the Tulips.

There was a vase of silk tulips in yellow and pink, but the rest was an array of flavored, lip-shaped cock rings, lip-shaped ball gags, and an oral-simulating masturbation sleeve.

She’d left a couple of tubes of lipstick open amid flavored lube and condoms. There was even a double-headed dildo with a small sign tented over it that read:

When your lips meet mine...

“ Vickie did this?” Georgia gave me a side-eye of skepticism.

“What can I say? She has a gift.”

“Sure does,” she said with a chuckle. “Is this the stuff to go out today?” She nodded at the box of products I’d pulled and left on the cash desk.

“It is. Do you want me to carry it to the car for you?”

She gave the edge of the box a lift and shook her head. “I can manage.” She left her hand on the box while she looked around. “I can’t wait to be back.”

“And change everything to the way you like it?”

“A little,” she admitted ruefully. “Are you offended?”

“No. But when do you think you’ll start coming in?”

“I’ll try some half-days next week. See how it goes. I was talking to Gail’s neighbor. She’s looking for part-time work. She volunteered at a teen clinic for years so nothing really fazes her.”

“That’s good.”

Georgia had known me too long not to read the forced sincerity in my tone. Her brows pulled into a frown.

“I’m happy you’re coming back. I am. It’s just...” I squinched up my nose and tilted my head toward the common wall between this shop and Twice Is Nice. “I really like having an excuse to see him every day.”

“Girl, if you want to see him every day, see him every day. Don’t put that on me.”

I curled my lip at her tough love, then shot back with, “Meaning you’re going upstairs to see Bruno while you’re here?”

“We’re having breakfast tomorrow morning, after he gets off work.”

“Really? That’s nice.” I was genuinely pleased to hear it.

She lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know if we can make it work with his shifts and all the rest, but we’ll see.”

“I hope you can. He seems great. From all the one times I’ve met him.”

“I haven’t even met yours. After I put this in the car, I’m going next door to introduce myself.” She gathered up the box of toys. “Since he’s my landlord and all.”

I had a very adolescent urge to ask her what she was going to say, but I held the door for her and pretended I was completely unbothered.

A customer came in, taking up my attention for the next while so I didn’t see Georgia leave, only noticed Gail’s car was gone from outside.

The ping of a text took me to the desk to check my phone.

Zak:

Georgia caught me putting this together. Said we’re made for each other.

The photo showed a twelve-inch blue ceramic rooster with a pair of snow globes on either side.

A cock and balls.

Pervert.