Second Chances: Love Nibbles (3 page)

Ryan put his other arm around her back and pulled her against him. The wine bottle bumped her rear and his erection pressed into her groin. The solid length woke an answering thickness and tightening in the lips of her pussy. Moisture gathered between her legs. In less than a minute and with only a few slow, tender kisses, he’d aroused her beyond reasoning. She ached, yearning and opening in response.

He released her mouth and moved his lips along her jaw, down her neck. Her skin twitched at the small tickling kisses. She could barely keep from jerking away and giggling, and when his stomach growled, she laughed. “You must be starving. You certainly burned off enough calories today.”

“I wouldn’t mind burning off some more before we eat.” He nuzzled the soft spot above her collarbone before straightening and looking into her eyes with a question in his.

Camilla imagined him lifting her off her feet, pressing her up against the door and fucking her right there, no hesitation and no holds barred. She could have that if she wanted it and the knowledge thrilled her. But she wasn’t quite ready for that wild abandon. Not yet, anyway.

“The food’s getting cold,” she pointed out.

He released her, his hands leaving heat on her back and the wine bottle bumping her hip as he pulled away.

She accepted the bottle from him. “I don’t think I can find my goblets, only water glasses.”

“I’m used to plastic cups so it doesn’t matter to me.” He followed her into the kitchen and opened the wine while she unwrapped dishes from newspaper and rinsed them.

Camilla smiled and sipped from the glass Ryan offered her. Her husband, the wine snob, would’ve turned up his nose at the idea of drinking this cheap vintage out of a plain glass, but she had to admit to kind of liking the sweet, fruity flavor. It reminded her of the Ripple she and her girlfriends had drunk back in her undergrad days. It was all they could afford and gave them a buzz which was all that mattered back then. Simpler times. Simpler pleasures.

The dining table was loaded with boxes so, after they’d filled plates from the various cartons, she led Ryan into the living room. Her couch looked different here, too formal perhaps or too much a part of her old life. Sitting on it beside her gentleman caller, she thought she’d be too nervous to eat, but one forkful of the shrimp fried rice hit her empty stomach and she began shoveling it in. Ryan devoured his with equal gusto, which relieved her self consciousness about wolfing her food.

“This is great. Thanks.”

“The least I could do. You guys worked so hard today. I don’t know how you do it every day.”

“I don’t plan to keep this job forever. I’m taking classes again and this fits around my schedule and pays okay, too.” He slurped in a bite of Thai noodles, which left his lips glistening. Camilla stared his lower lip, plump and shiny and so biteable.

“Uh, what are you studying?”

“Stagecraft. Lights, scenery, audio, all the backstage stuff.”

“That sounds really interesting. What a great field.”

“Glad someone thinks so. My dad wanted me to be a plumber so he could add
and Son
to the side of the truck. And my girlfriend left when she realized I’d never be a financial whiz. I’d almost finished a bachelor’s in business, but after she moved out, I took time off school. I worked at different jobs while I figured out what I
really
wanted to do.”

Camilla finished her wine, a fine, warm glow spreading through her. “Do you want to work in touring shows or local venues? Or do you plan to head for Broadway?”

“Anything in the field really. I’ve done some lighting work in a local theater and worked soundboard for a band, but I’m sure it’ll be a long time before I can quit my day job and make a career out of it.”

“It’s admirable you didn’t settle for someone else’s expectations. Some of us spend a large portion of our life unaware we didn’t choose a career path, merely stumbled onto it.” Camilla paused, wondering how she could segue into finding out his age without being completely blunt about it. Eventually she simply asked, “How old are you, Ryan?”

He paused with an egg roll halfway to his mouth. “Are we going there now? Are you really going to worry about age?”

“Not worried, just curious.”

“I’m twenty-five. And you’re what? In your mid-thirties? Not that big a difference.”

“Forty-one and trust me, it
is
a big difference. I’ve lived with it. My husband was almost twenty years older than me.”

He gestured with his egg roll. “We’re just eating a meal together, spending some time. Relax. Don’t think too hard.”

He was right, of course. She was over-thinking, but she hadn’t had much practice with light affairs and casual sex. Not since her early twenties and rarely even then.

Camilla took refilled her wine glass and changed the subject.

As the food slowly disappeared, the cartons emptying one by one, their conversation ranged over politics, life in the city and plans for the future. When the dialogue wandered toward the meaning of life, she remembered long nights of conversation with friends back in her youth. It seemed she hadn’t really talked about philosophical subjects for years—not with the people she knew now, and not even when Sam was dying. Ryan’s idealism and energy and questioning about life were refreshing, invigorating.

“I can’t tell you how many of my freshmen students say they don’t understand how what a bunch of dead people wrote speaks to their lives.” Camilla set her empty plate on the floor. “But most literary classics are as timely now as when they were written. It’s not as if humans have come up with new questions to ponder. Everything boils down to ‘why am I here?’ and ‘what should I do with my time on this earth?’”

“
Carpe diem
. Isn’t there some poem about that?” He finished his wine and put his glass on the end table.

“
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, to-morrow will be dying.
Robert Herrick.” She leaned against the back of the couch, her eyes half closed, a pleasant buzz from the wine making her drowsy.

“Wise man.” Ryan reached over and traced her ear with his fingertip, a light touch around the curve to the lobe, only that, but it sent wildfire roaring through her.

Camilla opened her eyes and turned toward him. He was so damn beautiful. She loved his thick, sandy hair and the way it fell over his forehead. Back when she’d been dating, stiffly gelled spikes had been in style. Running a hand through hair as crisp as cornflakes wasn’t a turn-on. She imagined Ryan’s hair would feel soft and silken between her fingers.

He slid his hand down the bare length of her arm from shoulder to wrist, making her glad she’d put on a tank top rather than a long sleeved shirt. Her skin prickled with gooseflesh as if touched by a cool breeze. When his large, warm hand curved around hers, she spread her fingers apart so his fingers could lace with hers.

They stayed that way while time stretched as taut as a rubber band close to snapping, the air between them vibrating with possibilities. Camilla pictured them as if from a distance, two people sitting side by side in a quiet living room holding hands.

She felt the heat of Ryan’s body close to hers, heard the soft intake of his breath, and at the same time, watched from above as the woman leaned toward the man and kissed him.

Chapter Three

He tasted of sweet wine and tangy spices. His lips were soft, lips yielding under the pressure of her mouth. He cupped the back of her neck, holding her steady as he kissed her harder. She welcomed his tongue teasing delicately between her lips. How strange the way they coiled around one another in a sinuous dance. Like a key in a lock, it opened her and made her want more. So long…it had been so long since she was kissed this way, hungrily, desperately, as if she were life giving oxygen. She’d forgotten kisses could be more than a light peck on the lips.

Ryan pulled her closer. She swooned against him and slid her arms around his back. His muscles were so hard and his flesh so hot the insides of her arms were singed by the contact. His strength flowed into her, wrapping around her, supporting her, making her want to cry with the pleasure of molding herself to him. It seemed like forever since she’d been held this way, overwhelmed by an embrace. Heavenly.

He cradled her face in his palm while his other hand roamed down her back. He paused at her tailbone just above the swell of her ass and she wanted him to go further, to grab her butt and knead. But he halted there politely, giving her time to get used to his touch.

They kissed for what felt like hours, tender nibbles followed by a hungry mashing together of lips and tongue, deep, desperate, powerful. When Ryan finally abandoned her mouth to kiss her cheek, her jaw, her neck, Camilla’s lips felt swollen and tender. She’d forgotten the simple pleasure of making out for long stretches of time. Her body was both utterly relaxed and tense with need.

Ryan slid his hand beneath her shirt and cupped her breast. Her nipple pebbled hard, eager for his touch, but Camilla was nervous. Fondling her breasts was the next step. From kissing to touching—then sex, which she craved and feared equally. This near stranger would see her naked. He would be as intimate with her body as another human being could be, and, again, it had been so long since she’d played that sexual game.

Ryan stopped nuzzling her shoulder to look at her. “Okay?”

She bit her lip. “It’s been a while, that’s all.”

“Of course. Your husband was ill.”

“Even before that. We weren’t physically close any more. Not often anyway.” She hesitated, embarrassed to admit such a private detail about her married life. She couldn’t quite pinpoint when the passion had gone, but it was well before Sam got sick.

Ryan nodded but remained silent. She was glad of that. He returned to sliding his lips over the curve of her shoulder then placed a necklace of kisses along the neckline of her shirt. His thumb rubbed her nipple, teasing it to hardness through her bra cup. Camilla pushed into his hand, wanting her clothes to evaporate so she could truly experience his touch.

As if gauging her readiness, he grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. He bent to kiss her cleavage. The sight of his tawny hair and the slice of his profile against her breast was nearly as exciting as the sensation of his mouth sucking her nipple through the sheer material of her bra.

Camilla combed her hands through his hair, as silky as she’d imagined. The tugging at her nipple sent a lightning bolt of pleasure crackling from her breast down to her sex. When he blew across the dampened fabric, she moaned and her eyes half closed.

Ryan straightened. In one swift move, he peeled off his shirt exposing the chiseled muscles she’d only felt until now. His body was glorious, ridged and tight. Youthful. An embarrassing contrast to her aging body. Camilla kept in shape at the gym, but inevitably her tits weren’t as high as they used to be and her belly wasn’t as toned.

But if Ryan found her anything less than desirable, it didn’t show in his hungry eyes, darkened by lust. Releasing the clasp on her bra, he freed her breasts. He caressed them before bending to suck on her nipples.

Camilla quickly forgot any self image qualms. She arched into his hands and mouth, gripped his shoulders and rubbed her hands down his broad back. She needed to touch him everywhere, to feel his skin gliding over hers, his heavy body pinning her and his cock filling her. Her arousal mounted, and she knew she wouldn’t turn back now. She wanted this man and the physical release she’d denied needing for so long. Her body stretched as if waking from a deep slumber, alive and aware in every cell.

Ryan glided a hand down her stomach to unfasten her jeans. When he touched her, she inhaled a sharp breath. He cupped her mound in his warm palm for a moment before teasing his fingers beneath her underwear and between her folds.

Her thigh muscles clenched and she whimpered. This was actually happening –this beautiful young man’s hand delving into her, probing fingers that made her shiver with longing. She pushed into his touch. She
wanted
desperately but she was afraid too. This was like being on a train hurtling down the tracks. She’d bought the ticket and couldn’t get off.

Ryan seemed to intuit her anxiety and stopped fingering her. He released her reddened nipple from his mouth with a pop and met her gaze.

“It’s all right if you don’t want to do this.”

“No. I do. Don’t stop.” She hardly recognized her rasping tone.

He grinned and those charming dimples flashed, sending another stab of heat through her. Her body was a flame, burning, yearning, sizzling. She pushed her jeans and underpants down her hips, then lifted her ass off the couch so Ryan could peel them the rest of the way off.

When she was stripped bare, Ryan quickly removed the rest of his clothes. He stood by the sofa with his cock standing straight out from his body.

Every coarse fiber of the couch fabric tickling Camilla’s sensitized flesh, and she realized she’d never lain naked on this couch. She and Sam had kept sex in the bedroom, so this was new for the poor old couch too. She reclined against the cushions, feigning relaxation as she stared at Ryan’s engorged cock. Thick and flushed dark from the blood rushing through the raised veins, it trembled slightly like a divining rod searching for water.