Chapter 37
“And how was it?”Jade asks from the screen of my laptop. It’s Sunday night, and Santo and I are back in our separate apartments. After unpacking my stuff, starting a load of laundry, and ordering take out, I messaged my friends to let them know I was home, and immediately they wanted to debrief. “Did you do the thing?”
I remember the feel of Santo’s body clenching around mine and the look of sheer, excruciating pleasure when he came, and I can’t help the huge smile that grows.
“Damn,” Jade says, laughing. “That good, huh?”
I put my face in my hands, laughing too. “It was so good. Like, the perfect time away. I don’t think I’d ever had that many orgasms in a weekend.” It wasn’t just the orgasms, of course, but it’s hard to explain the way Santo looked at me when he was ready for another round, or how he brought food in bed when I was too sexed-out to get up, or how when we showered together mid-afternoon yesterday, in the bright lights of the bathroom, I hadn’t felt self-conscious at all. Santo had put his hands all over me by that point, and he knew every stretch mark and freckle. Every place of my body that I didn’t like, he’d seen. And he’d still wanted me right up until we kissed goodbye.
“Good job, Santo,” Tessa cheers from her apartment in Portugal.
“Is there going to be a repeat performance?” Sara asks. She’s back home in Austin with Chris, but they’ll be flying back to Europe soon. Next weekend we’re going to Malta together to escape the winter weather.
“No,” I say, and I’m surprised how sad I sound.
“Do you want more?” Jade asks, and my friends all peer at me through their screens.
Santo and I have chemistry in bed—amazing chemistry. Unexpected chemistry. Thinking back on the weekend, I realize that there was something more important at play here, too; a part of me had always worried that the best of my life had passed. I am a forty-two-year-old divorcee and mother of three. I am bigger than all my friends, less worldly, less comfortable in my body.
And yet, instead of comparing myself to slim, elegant European women, I am having the best sex of my life.
If I can have the best sex of my life now, why can’t I have the love of my life?
Okay, back up. I have a lot of feelings about Santo, but love isn’t one of them. I respect him a lot. He is a great professor who clearly cares about his students and their education. As an ex-stepfather to Bell, he goes above and beyond what many men do when they get divorced. I know some dads who aren’t as close to their own kids as Santo is to Bell.
Most importantly, I’ve learned so much about myself over the time that I’ve known him. I am grateful for that. I like him, on top of being wildly attracted to him.
I rub my forehead, and my friends wait while I gather my thoughts. What do I want?
Next door, Oliver barks. I straighten and listen, my heartbeat racing already. What is Oliver barking at?
“Emma?” Sara’s voice calls my attention back to the screen. But I have to know what Oliver’s barking at.
“I have to go. Love you!” I shut the lid of my laptop, cutting my friends’ protests off, and rush to the door. I skid into the hallway just as Santo’s door opens and he lurches out.
We stand in the hallway, breathing hard and staring at each other.
“Were you…?” Santo runs a hand through his hair. He’s dressed in a T-shirt and long pants, his glasses slightly crooked and the short, black hairs on his shirt tell me he was cuddling with Zola.
“No. Were you?”
He shakes his head. Oliver lets out one final bark and then the hallway goes quiet. Santo’s gaze remains on mine for a few beats. “Come here,” he rasps out.
I shut my door and walk to him. When I get in range, he reaches for me, and with his fingers tangled in my hair and his body walking mine into his apartment, Santo kisses me.
Half an hour later,Santo and I are a sweaty mess on his bed, catching our breath. Weirdly, Oliver didn’t bark at us at all. “I had a theory, but I think we just disproved it,” I say, tucking the sheet under my arms and propping myself up on my elbow to face Santo. He glances at me before rolling to his side, too, mirroring me.
“What was your theory?”
“Oliver is an agent of the Catholic Church, and he’s working to curb masturbation and premarital sex.”
Santo falls onto his back, laughing. His grin is wide as he gestures to the wall. “But he didn’t bark.”
“Exactly. Theory disproved. Do you have a theory about why he barks at us?”
Santo gets back into position, eyes twinkling with laughter. “I think he is trying to protect us. We’re alone, and there are sounds of distress. Eva needs to be alerted.”
“Like a support animal, but instead of helping her open doors or guiding her, he’s being a concerned neighbor.”
Santo looks at the wall above us and rubs his chin. “What do you think would happen if we masturbated right now?”
We share a look and then roll onto our backs. Santo kicks off the sheet and takes his soft cock in his hand. I spread my legs and touch myself, stroking my clit. I’m still a little slick from the lube we used, so I close my eyes and replay the sex we just had–me on my back, legs wrapped around Santo’s hips as he stands beside the bed, thrusting into me. He had his thumb on my clit too, and I came twice before we finished. Which is why I’m feeling a little sore now, my clit irritated from a weekend full of stimulation.
I hear a rustle and feel a small dip. When I open my eyes, Santo is sitting up and watching me. When his eyes travel back up to look at my face, we both grin.
“No barking,” he says, and I stop touching myself. Santo raises an eyebrow. “No more?”
“No more,” I agree. “Not tonight, anyway.”
Santo falls back next to me. “What do you want to do beyond that?” he asks, resting his head on the pillow.
“I had a really great weekend with you,” I confess, looking into his eyes. “Not just the sex. I had fun.”
“So did I. I was just sitting with Zola, thinking about how I didn’t want it to be over. But I haven’t had a relationship in a long time. Not since Bell’s mother.”
“And I’ve only just started…well. I guess we’re not really dating.”
Santo sighs. “Do you want to get married again someday?”
I scoff. “I don’t even know where I’m going to be in two months, let alone what I’ll be doing after the program is over.”
“True. But still, I think we should keep this quiet. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I get it. And maybe I can change to another professor for the term.” I am supposed to be in Santo’s Technology and Innovation Management class starting tomorrow.
“I can drop the course, tell the director I’ve had something come up, and he can find someone else to teach it.”
I press a kiss to Santo’s shoulder. Santo is the best professor the school has. He cares about his students, and I know that this is important to him. “It should be me.”
Absent-mindedly, Santo strokes my arm and doesn’t argue. A few minutes later, Zola jumps up onto the bed and curls up behind my legs. She didn’t sleep with us over the weekend, so this is new. I’m warm and sleepy and sexually exhausted. For the third night in a row, I fall asleep in Santo’s arms.