A Family Affair

“I’m pretty harmless,” he assured her.

Nonetheless, she did a little math. They’d been talking on the phone for a week and change; she knew he was close to his mother and knew her name. He’d lost his father to a brain aneurism when he was young, which could account for his specialty. So he said, not her assumption.

“I bet you’re not, but I’d like to have a nightcap, and you can feel free to join me. I’ll be happy to Uber home.”

They took a cab to a Victorian atop a steep hill, a large home divided into three apartments. His was classically male, decorated in dark wood, off-white and tan paint, brown and beige furniture, a long curved sectional, a marble fireplace and a very impressive window seat from which there was a view of the city. She was drawn to that window seat and with a long, Ooh, she sat there and was captivated by the view.

“How about a brandy?” he asked.

“That sounds perfect. This is beautiful. How long have you lived here?”

“Just a few years,” he said. He kept talking from the kitchen. “One of the doctors I knew was renting it out right about the time I was looking for something and we came to an agreement in an hour. The closeness to the hospital and city—it was an easy decision. When he decided to sell, I was ready to buy.”

“I love it,” she said.

He returned with a brandy and sat down beside her. “What’s your schedule this week?”

“Monday through Thursday I have clinic and on Saturday I’m on call for the practice. You?”

“I’ll be working all week between clinic and surgery. But I’m not working tomorrow. Do you have any interest in going out on my boat? The weather is supposed to be perfect.”

“I’d love it. Aside from a ferry or party boat, I’ve never been sailing. I have no real experience.”

“But you’re willing to learn?”

“Absolutely, but I don’t want to be a lame sailor! Are you sure I wouldn’t be any trouble to take along?”

He grinned at that, shaking his head. His hand wandered to her shoulder and he gently massaged her. “It could be wonderful. We can just sail around the bay with all the other weekend sailors.”

She had already started to fantasize about sailing, pulling ropes and setting rudders and learning all the rigging moves. Then his hand was on her elbow, then stroking her arm. He moved close and his lips slowly touched her cheek. Then her neck. Then her lips. He took the brandy from her hand, put it aside and kissed her again. He investigated her mouth with his tongue and then took possession. His arms went around her, hers went around him, and their lips were locked together for a long, delicious kiss. Minutes, by her estimate. Several times his lips slid to her neck and he moved her long, dark hair away and inhaled her scent.

While he was busy kissing her, she was deciding what to do. Let him touch? She wanted to be touched. Desperately. It had been a long time. His caresses roved around a bit, sliding to her butt, her thighs, her knees. Then he whispered against her lips. “We could get more comfortable...”

This was what she had longed for since that day in the hospital parking lot, to have someone as smart and handsome and accomplished as Patrick want her. But she didn’t want to seem too eager. “On our first date?”

“Not really, though, is it? How many hours have we logged on the phone? We know almost everything about each other.”

“True. But...”

“It’s entirely up to you.”

He treated her to a little more kissing and caressing and when his hand slid deftly over her butt and under it she sighed and said, “Yes.”

He took her hand and led her down the hall to his bedroom. They passed a couple of rooms that she took no real notice of but what she did notice was how the hardwood floors shone and how immaculate the walls and floorboards were, as though freshly painted. And then the main suite—large king-size bed, dark wood chests, large-screen TV on the wall. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had tidied up in anticipation of bringing her to bed or if he was naturally so neat. Nothing was out of place, no clothes tossed over the furniture. She glanced into the large closet and everything was hanging in perfect rows.

He put his arms around her from behind, circled her waist, pulled her hair away from her neck and kissed her there. He pulled her against him and she could feel it behind her, his erection. She moaned in equal parts desire and excitement.

He slowly undid the buttons on the back of her sundress and with deftness he slid it over her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, pooling around her ankles, leaving her in a bra and panties, so she turned in his embrace and put her arms around his neck. “Perfect,” he said in a coarse whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

But she thought he was the beautiful one. His eyes had darkened to little circles of coal and she began to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time, until she got to his waist and then she undid the belt and button and zipper.

He took her lips again in a passionate kiss, and while his tongue played, he slipped his long, soft fingers into her panties and stroked her there in the dark and secret part of her body and she nearly screamed with pleasure. Then she dropped back onto his bed and he kicked off his pants and threw off his shirt as he lay down beside her. They were instantly in each other’s arms, straining together, grinding hungrily.

“I don’t think I can wait,” she whispered.

Her panties disappeared that fast and he pressed into her. “I don’t want you to wait,” he said. Then he turned her onto her side, pulled down his boxers, made her bra disappear and entered her from behind. She wasn’t so sure about that move until he fondled her breast with one hand, gently pinching a nipple, and sliding the other hand down to that special place that filled her with crazy erotic energy and nearly drove her out of her mind. He filled her, pumped his hips, sucked on her neck, rubbed her between her legs and she was gone.

This had never happened to her before. Orgasms were generally difficult to achieve and she was suddenly exploding. He was pumping and rubbing and groaning and she was ready to faint from satisfaction. He gave her a few more hard, deep thrusts and let it go.

And Jessie just about collapsed. A long sigh came out of her and she pressed her butt harder against him.

“Whoa,” he said.

“Oh my God,” she said.

“Yeah, that was perfect,” he agreed. “Quick, but perfect. We can slow it down next time.”

“Next time,” she repeated. “Good.” She snuggled into his arms, his breath soft and warm against her neck. She was far too weak to walk downstairs to catch an Uber. She couldn’t move. His hands were so soft and he caressed her from her knees to her shoulders and it was heaven. Every once in a while he would stroke that soft, supple, dark place and it would send a jolt through her. And she would say, “Oh. Patrick...”

“Right here...”

“I can’t move...”

“Don’t move,” he said. “Stay right here.” He tightened his arms around her.

Eventually she rolled over, facing him, meeting his lips.

“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” she said.

He chuckled. “Worth the investment of all that phone time?”

“Oh God, yes,” she said. She looked into his eyes. With the heat of the moment past, his eyes lightened to that beautiful greenish blue she remembered. “You’re an amazing lover.”

He brushed the hair back over her ear. “That’s very sweet. You’re quite amazing, as well.”

She laughed softly. “No one has ever said that to me. If you’re not very careful, I could fall in love with you.”

He laughed a little and pulled her close. “Then I’ll be very careful...”

She smiled. “Not interested in love?” she asked.

“It’s a little soon,” he said. “We have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

She mentally chewed on that. She tried to say nothing, but in her typical way she couldn’t let it go. “Let’s see,” she mused aloud without looking into his eyes. “We know each other well enough for amazing sex, but love is out of the question?”

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Love is just premature, that’s all.”

She gave that a moment to sink in. She wished she hadn’t said it first. She wished she’d put off sex, even if it really was the best sex ever. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Jessie. You just have to be patient.”

“If I’d been patient, we’d be wearing clothes now. But we’re not.”