Chapter Sixteen
Daniel
“ T oday was a good day,” I breathed out, running my palm down Wren’s side. The fabric of her long-sleeved shirt was too much of a layer between my hand and her skin. I wanted to feel all of her…take anything she would allow or give me. My heart beat inside my chest, reminiscent of when I was a young man.
“It was, even though I need a lot of work on my golf game.”
My lips grazed her cheek, coming to nibble on her earlobe. “You’re a natural. It will come,” I whispered.
She ran the length of my back with her delicate fingers. “I liked seeing where you work. And Adam Sandler! Wait until I tell Genie. And dinner was delicious. You may not be able to cook, but your chef sure can.”
I added cooking lessons to my to-do list and quickly brought my attention back to the woman in my arms.
We’d moved on to the living area after dinner for a mini glass of wine—at Wren’s request because she’d had almost her limit—and now we stood in front of the fireplace, the gas flames flickering behind us, indecision creeping in.
I ran my thumb around Wren’s ear and rounded her neck, gathering her close. Kissing her lips, I reminded myself to keep the moment going. Of course, the evening before, I’d respected her decision to stay in the guest room. It had been a few decades. But tonight I didn’t want to part ways with this beautiful woman.
“Today was an eagle kind of day. A hole in one,” I took a beat to say.
“Not a birdie?”
“Not even close. I am officially renaming you Eag-y.”
She play-squeezed my arm. “Ew. No. That is not one bit attractive as a nickname.”
“So, you’re finally admitting you loved me calling you Birdie?” I leaned back a smidge to see her face.
“I never said that.”
I reached around and slid her hair out of the low ponytail, allowing me to run my fingers through it. This had quickly become my favorite pastime. “I want more days like today,” I mumbled along Wren’s mouth. “Eagle days with my Birdie.”
“I…”
“Shh,” I said, bringing a lone finger to her mouth, signaling she should be quiet. “I can say it, and you don’t have to be ready for it. Let me live in this moment.”
Her gaze locked with mine, her eyes wide with emotion, and she spoke my nickname for the first time since I’d landed in her doctor’s office. “Danny—”
“Say it again,” I interrupted.
“Daniel.”
“Danny,” I corrected.
“I’m feeling so much right now. It’s making my pulse race.”
I tried to lighten the moment. “That might be me.”
“Daniel,” she growled.
“Okay, okay, I’m behaving.” I gathered her tight and waited for her to speak.
“Excitement, arousal, uncertainty, to name a few. I’ve become used to keeping my emotions and feelings controlled. Now they’re going off in and around me, spouting off like fireworks. I’m a surgeon. I believe in order and systems.”
Gathering my thoughts, I kissed her, letting her taste overcome me. She kissed me back with ardor, but if she’d said no, we would have stopped.
Reluctantly pulling back, I tried to comfort Wren. “It’s all right to feel overwhelmed and chaotic. Sometimes it can be thrilling or fun. Yes, not in your job. But outside, you can let loose. If you feel like you’re going to fall, I’m going to be there to catch you.”
She stood as tall as she could on her tiptoes and mashed her lips to mine. I wasn’t sure what part of what I said had gotten to her, but hey, I wasn’t arguing. This beautiful creature—a woman I’d spent decades thinking about—was grinding her hips into me, seeking friction, and it felt like at any minute she might climb me like a tree.
We stayed like that, kissing until our lips were raw, and I was so hard against the jeans I’d changed into after our day that I was certain there might be permanent damage.
“I want you,” Wren breathed, looking at me before whispering, “Danny.”
In a split second, I lifted her up and tossed her over my shoulder.
“Your knee,” she protested. “I don’t want to redo it… And I can’t if I’m about to sleep with you.”
I kept walking toward my bedroom, past the guest room where she stayed the night before, ignoring her rant. Setting her down on the edge of the bed, I finally spoke. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
This made her giggle, and I couldn’t help but feeling like a young man again. And I damn well liked it.
“So now you’re going to use trite pickup lines?” Wren joked with me as she ran her delicate yet skilled fingers down the buttons of her blouse, opening them one by one.
“I’m pretty sure we are slightly beyond pickup, yeah?”
She bit her lip, likely searching for a response in her sex-hazed brain.
“No need to respond.” I beat her to saying anything, slipping her blouse off and tossing it on the floor. “If you’re feeling as amped as me, it’s a wonder either of us can string together a sentence.”
I helped her slide up my bed to the pillows, thinking the housekeeper would have her work cut out for her tomorrow putting this bed back together. I lay over her, bracing my weight on my elbow, and kissed her, our tongues sliding inside one another’s mouths and tangling.
“Birdie,” I said on an exhale. Closing my eyes, I took another deep breath before standing.
She followed my movement, worry filling her brow, and I could tell she was moments away from asking where I was going.
“I’m desperate to get out of these jeans. They’re cutting off all the blood supply to parts of my body I may want to use shortly.”
A smile tipped up her lips.
Shrugging out of my pants, my feet already bare from when we got home, I tore my shirt over my head and slid back up Wren’s body in nothing but boxer briefs.
She took in every development with her eyes never leaving me. When she tilted her hips in the air, I took it as a sign to remove her pants, keeping our gazes locked, unzipping the ivory-colored denim and shimmying it off. It was only during the final yank, where I tossed her bottoms to meet mine, that I saw her panties.
“Coffee, tea, or me?” I recited what it said on the tiny scrap of turquoise cotton, small rhinestones circling the words.
“They don’t make day-of-the-week underwear for women my age…”
“I’d say these are much better, and I will take you instead of coffee or tea any day.” I slid the material to the side, revealing her soft, tender trap. I heard myself breathe in and out before planting a small kiss on her pubic bone.
My mind flicked to the few times we’d done this before, and I recalled Wren had enjoyed it with reckless abandon. I wanted to make that happen all over again, but better, so I set about exactly that, starting with small strokes of my tongue. Wren moved under me, seeking friction where she needed it, unabashedly wanting me deeper and harder, small moans escaping her until her hand grabbed my hair and her pelvis full-on tilted and a whoosh of breath escaped her. A small shiver overtook her body and I rode it out, taking each and every last ripple until she’d settled and calmed.
“Stunning,” I murmured, clawing my way back up her body, kissing her lips, noting she didn’t mind her own taste.
Wren wasn’t a young girl anymore; she was a fucking sensational woman.
And I was a man—in heaven or in trouble. She was leaving in two days, and then what?
I couldn’t think about it as her hand stroked down my side, running over my rib cage and inside my briefs, finding my length. I fell to her side, snuggling in next to her, and she stroked me, my own hand running over her satin bra, plucking her nipple. Together, we were a mess of moans and saying one another’s names.
“Birdie,” I finally spoke, “I need you to stop or else…” I stilled her hand.
“I want you,” she answered.
“I want to be inside you too.” I didn’t have to explain that was why I had to end her hand’s exploration. It had been thirty years since I prematurely went off, but somehow this moment made me feel capable of acting like an inexperienced boy.
“Have me, Danny.”
That was all Wren had to say, and I was lingering over her.
“Shit,” I said. “Condom?” It came out like a question, although I didn’t mean it to. Nor did I expect Wren’s response.
“IUD.”
“Are you sure?” She nodded and I felt the need to explain. “I haven’t been with anyone in a long while.”
“Me either. Now get to it.” Her hips rose, encouraging me to sink inside her, and I did.
Very slowly, savoring each moment, until I was so deep I wasn’t sure I’d ever leave.
We moved at a deliberate rhythm at first, taking our time, until need took over and we became a war of ins and outs and grasping one another’s limbs, looking for harder, deeper, more.
In the rarest of events, as soon as Wren started to go off, shivering under me, I felt myself start to go, pulsing inside her. She clamped her feet around my ass and squeezed, taking it all from me and riding out my entire orgasm, and it was not for the faint of heart.
Afterward, I kept myself braced above her on my elbow and kissed the tip of her nose, allowing us to linger this way, coming down, until I rolled to the other side and gathered the woman of all my fantasies into my arms.
“Whoa,” she stated, and I could see a smile tugging at her lips in my periphery.
“Whoa is right. Now, tell me you’re going to spend the night in here so we can whoa again…”
She didn’t answer, just burrowed in closer and dozed for a beat before slipping out of the bed, commenting, “I’m just going to clean up for more whoa, if that’s what the kids are calling it these days.”
Shite, I am in trouble…