Inappropriate Thoughts (Victoria Wilde #1) (16 page)

Read Inappropriate Thoughts (Victoria Wilde #1) Online

Authors: Ian Dalton

Tags: #sex, #sexy, #divorce, #younger man, #older woman, #contemporary fiction, #tennis, #friends with benefits

"You are exactly right. So who’s your favorite
player, all-time?"

"You’re going to think I’m a nerd, or
something." He began fooling with the napkin holder in front of
him. "I’m a McEnroe fan all the way."

She gasped. "I love him! He’s the reason I
started playing."

"Me, too!"

She looked at him, confused. "But wait, you
weren’t even born yet when McEnroe was playing."

"I was a toddler for some of his comebacks, but
my father was a huge fan, and he had video tapes of all the big
matches." He looked away, thinking, then said, "My favorite is the
Borg-McEnroe U.S. Open final of—"

"1980," they said in unison and shared another
smile. Jillian moved a half-step closer to him.

"I think I still have a few old matches on
grainy videotape. Do you remember that match at Wimbledon that same
year?" she asked.

"Yeah. Mac saved five match points before he
finally lost. Great match." Staring down at the floor, he looked to
be replaying the memory in his mind.

"I remember that."

He shook his head, smiling. "Freaking Johnny
Mac. He changed tennis forever."

 

 

After they came down from their Johnny Mac high,
Jillian put the cake in the oven, and when it was done and had
cooled, Brian walked her through the preparations of the simple
chocolate mousse. He instructed her to cut each round cake layer in
half to create four thin layers, then watched as she placed the
first layer on the cake plate, followed by a third of the mousse,
another layer, more mousse, still one more cake layer, mousse, and
then the final cake layer on top. The cake stood about nine inches
high when they were done. Next, he showed her how to make a double
boiler out of a metal bowl and a small saucepan, and he watched as
she heated the cream while stirring it constantly. When it started
to get warm, he instructed her to add the semi-sweet chocolate.

As Jillian continued stirring the mixture in the
bowl, she began to frown. "I think I must have done something
wrong."

"Just keep stirring," he said, "When you make
ganache, before the chocolate and cream really mix, it’s supposed
to look like a disaster."

She kept on mixing and just as fast as it
started to look really horrible, with the different shades of
white, brown, and chunks of chocolate all fighting against each
other, it came together into the dark chocolate silk, like he
promised.

She smiled at him, pleased.

Grinning proudly, he glanced at her face. "You
see? Now take it off the heat."

Jillian removed the pot from the burner, and he
told her to taste it. She reached in with a finger, tasted it, and
smiled. She presented her finger to him, he swiped a bit off with
his finger, tasted it, and then nodded. They shared another brief,
passionate, middle-school moment as they stared at each other for a
little too long.

Then Brian cleared his throat. "We’d better get
that on the cake before it cools too much."

He walked her through pouring it and spreading
it evenly over the cake. As she poured it, they both drifted away
momentarily, somewhere wearing less clothing and pouring the
chocolate over something more fun—like each other. She snapped out
of it first, and when he finally did, he helped her smooth the
ganache over the cake by steadying her hand as he looked over her
shoulder, their bodies pressed together. When they were done, the
cake looked magnificent, and they put it into the refrigerator to
set.

Brian looked into her eyes. "Do you want to,
uh—"

"What?" Jillian asked, looking at him anxiously
with her lips slightly parted.

"Hit some balls?"

She beamed. "See you out there in two
minutes."

They both rushed upstairs as
if the conversation had gone more like,
We’ve only got about an hour. Do you want to get naked and do
it?
They each were down to underwear
seconds after entering their separate rooms. Jillian decided to
change her panties to something a little sexier, since they would
be on display—at least partially—when she bent over to retrieve
balls from the court. And maybe she planned on doing a little more
of that than was actually necessary.

 

 

Once they were on the court, tennis became this
intense sensual experience for both of them. It was adorable in a
somewhat disturbingly lame way. It really was their sex
replacement. They both began to grunt during some key shots, almost
to the point where someone only listening might think the on-court
couple was really having some mind-blowing sex.

Brian took the first set, and they were tied at
six-all in the second. He did spot her panties on several
occasions, and more blood had collected in his groin than was
really needed at the time. Jillian was wet almost the entire match,
a combination of the feeling of the sexy underwear against her
skin, along with her proximity to the guy she was at the very least
incredibly attracted to, if not smitten with completely.

The tiebreak to decide the second set was long
and grueling, and it was the climax of the match in more ways than
one. In a tennis tiebreak, the player who serves first in the
tiebreak serves once, and then the players alternate, with each
serving twice. The first player to get seven points wins, as long
as he/she wins by at least two points. Brian and Jillian traded
points all the way up until they were tied at sixteen points each,
which is equivalent to playing nearly six full games of tennis.
When Jillian called the score, they both stopped and looked at each
other.

She said what they were both thinking: "This is
exactly that Borg-McEnroe 1980 Wimbledon fourth set tiebreak."

He nodded. "And I’m McEnroe."

"Go ahead, be McEnroe. He may have won the
tiebreak, but he eventually lost the match."

While McEnroe did win his memorable tiebreak
18–16, Jillian and Brian’s didn’t end in the same way. They
continued trading points up to twenty-all, and by any measure, it
was a long one. Not as long as the 70-68 record-smashing tiebreak
at the 2010 Wimbledon championships between Isner and Mahut. Those
two lunatics played for eleven hours over a three-day span and
neither seemed to play aggressively enough to win. At times, both
Isner and Mahut looked to be playing to set the record or—at the
very least—playing to not lose, instead of to win. Isner won and
went on to be crushed in his next match due, of course, to
exhaustion.

Unlike Isner and Mahut, Brian and Jillian were
both playing aggressively and taking chances, even though they were
exhausted and sluggish between points. Brian had six opportunities
to win the match, but each time, Jillian was able to erase the set
point with a tough shot, a lucky bounce, or an error on his part.
She didn’t have a set point opportunity until she went up 21–20.
That's when Brian hit a shot into the net.

Serving her first set point, she held her head
high as she looked at him. "Don’t get discouraged because you blew
all those match points, but I’m going to put you away right here.
You had your chances, but this is getting ridiculous."

Brian glared at her, breathing through his
mouth. He was exhausted, but he mustered the energy to smirk and
say, "Bring it."

Jillian blasted a serve to his forehand, and he
hit a good, deep approach shot, then rushed to the net. She drove a
shot down the line to his forehand. Brian dove, barely got his
racquet on the ball, and hit a brilliant touch drop volley. He
ended up splayed out flat on the court.

Rushing the net, she stuck her racquet forward
and stretched with everything she had, without looking. She caught
the ball on the edge of her racquet, apparently just before the
second bounce, and it flew over the net for a winner. He watched as
she hit the shot, but he was partially-blocked by the net. It
seemed like the ball might have bounced twice before she hit it,
but he wasn’t certain.

She looked at him, breathless. "I’m not sure I
got it, did you see?"

"Nice shot. It was clean." Too exhausted to
continue, he rolled over, pulled his legs toward his chest, and
looked at the scrapes on his knees while struggling to catch his
breath.

She rushed to his side of the net. "Your get was
incredible—like a young Boris Becker. Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," he said as he slowly got to his
feet.

Jillian trailed behind while he limped slightly
to the bench, and they rested there for a few minutes in a sort of
pseudo postcoital, spent bliss. Then they looked at each other with
the same "I-can’t-do-it-anymore" look.

She sighed. "We’ll have to finish this another
time."

Glancing over at her, he simply nodded.

She took a sip of water as her eyes lingered on
his muscular legs. "Um, what are you doing later?"

"Nothing. I think."

"We’ve got that cake for dessert, so why don’t I
make us some dinner?"

Looking into her eyes, he smiled. "I think Rob
is with Laura tonight, so that sounds great."

 

 

After she showered, Jillian left for the store.
Rob came back and told Brian he needed him to come with him
somewhere but wouldn't tell him where. Brian told him he'd planned
to do some schoolwork that night, and he needed to be back by
seven. Rob agreed and waited for him in the car. Brian left Jillian
a note, telling her that he was with Rob and that he’d certainly be
back by 7:00.

Rob picked up two other guys and told Brian he
had a surprise for him, but he wouldn’t be any more specific. When
they were still driving about an hour later, Brian checked the time
and saw it was already after 5:00. He began to get concerned, but
he didn’t want to come off like a douchebag, so he didn’t say a
word. He tried to mimic the excited look on the faces of Rob and
the other two guys, who obviously knew where they were headed.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the
strip club, Rob announced, "This place is great. Some really hot
girls here, and they take it all off."

"Awesome." Brian widened his mostly-fake
smile.

 

 

Going all out, Jillian bought lobster and steak
and prepared some exotic side dishes. She had recipe books out, the
kitchen was a mess again, but things were coming together for her,
and she was energized.

 

 

Inside the club, it was instantly clear that Rob
was right: the girls were hot and naked, and there were gorgeous
tits and asses everywhere you looked. Rob handed Brian a stack of
singles and a few fives, for the really hot girls, and told him to
live it up. Rob was hoping this might help snap his friend from his
Natalie-related funk. They had a few drinks; Brian went through the
motions for Rob’s sake. He handed over all his money to the hot
women, who pretended to be interested in him, and he checked the
time often. At 6:30, he went to the bathroom and sent Jillian a
text message:

 

 

I’m so sorry. Rob had a surprise for me.
We’re at least an hour away, and it doesn’t look like we’re leaving
any time soon. Really sorry. I don’t know what to say.

 

 

After Jillian read the message, she texted back
that she understood. Frowning, she put the side dishes in the
refrigerator, cleaned the kitchen, cut a big piece of the ganache
cake, and went upstairs to her bedroom. She enjoyed the cake as she
typed away on her computer. In a zone again with her writing, she
worked until just after midnight.

Rob dropped Brian off and headed back to Laura’s
to work off some of the excitement he'd generated at the strip
club. Brian went into the house, opened the refrigerator, and saw
the uncooked lobster and steak. He also noticed a slice of cake was
missing from their masterpiece. Slipping up to Jillian’s room, he
found her sound asleep and stood watching her for a few seconds.
The empty plate was next to the bed, and she looked too peaceful to
disturb.

He took her plate down and cut himself a slice
of cake. He placed the plate on the kitchen island, went into the
great room, and selected one of Jillian’s novels from the shelf.
Returning to the kitchen, he pulled a stool over to the island and
sat there savoring the cake and enjoying Jillian’s steamy, erotic
novel even more.

26

The next morning, Jillian
entered Brian’s room, dressed formally for an appointment. She
discovered him sleeping with a copy of her novel,
Longings Lost,
lying on
his chest. Smiling, she grabbed the book, placed it on the table
next to him, and left the room. She wrote the guys a note, telling
them she’d be out most of the day. Jillian’s appointment was with
the division head of her publisher’s imprint. They met to discuss a
movie producer’s interest in adapting one of her novels for the
screen.

After her appointment, Jillian checked her cell
phone calendar and was reminded of a date she had set up a few
weeks before. She’d joined a popular Internet dating site a few
months back and had finally accepted a request. After checking out
the man’s photo and trading a few e-mails, she'd agreed to the
date. The dinner was scheduled for that night at seven at the
Cheesecake Factory, which was in the restaurant row adjacent to the
mall, just a few blocks from her house. She’d forgotten about it
until seeing the appointment on her Blackberry.

 

 

Brian spent most of the day alone at the house.
He woke up late, read Jillian’s note, sat by the pool, hit balls
against the ball machine for an hour in the hot sun, and then went
for a swim to cool off. He wanted to apologize to Jillian in person
for not making the dinner, and he was disappointed that she was out
all day. Rob called Brian and told him he would be with Laura most
of the day but asked if Brian wanted to go see a movie that night.
Brian agreed.

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