⚠️ SEXUAL CONTENT WARNING: This is where it all happens in the bedroom - and it's described in detail! If this sort of thing bothers you, you might consider skipping ahead to Chapter 8. ⚠️
Thanks to my efforts during Roxanne's shower, the bedroom is set up well for a romantic interlude, as if I'd intended it that way all along. The lighting is low and atmospheric, and the pervading smell is one of lavender and fresh linen. Those candles have done their job admirably.
Roxanne and I stand beside my queen-size bed, my arms resting on her hips. She looks around the room, taking in the ambiance.
"Wow, this is just perfect," she whispers, barely more than a breath, before pulling me in for another kiss. As our tongues fuse together, she again slides a hand between my legs, grasping a little more firmly this time. It's nearly overwhelming – I don't want this to be over too quickly, but I feel like I'll spontaneously combust if I don't find a release.
We end up on the bed, more falling than sitting, with Roxanne on her back. There's a crinkling noise, and with a delicate laugh Roxanne finds the chocolate I set out on the pillow. She unwraps the square and places it in her mouth, allowing it to melt on her tongue as she savors it with another of those irresistible high-pitched moans. We kiss yet again, Roxanne's mouth all dark and sweet and creamy and completely delectable. I've never had chocolate quite like this before. My lips, still warm and gooey, journey down from Roxanne's face, taking in her neck, her arms, her shapely hands – and once she's deftly pulled off that T-shirt, her breasts and stomach. Her body is unlike anything I've ever experienced, flawless in its own indescribable way, every inch something new to be discovered and admired.
By now I've stripped to nothing but my black boxer briefs, which barely conceal the bulge beneath – one that's verging on uncomfortable. My recent junk-food-and-video-game bender has left my midsection a touch doughy; an apology about my physique finds my lips, but before I can get it out, the words dissolve into a hazy moan as Roxanne traces my nipples with her fingers, then her tongue. She even seems to enjoy my ample body hair, a reminder of the fact that even though my last name is Scottish, I'm Portuguese and Italian on my mother's side. My hairiness has always made me self-conscious before – after all, smooth-skinned men with rippling muscles seem to be the ideal, or at least the American ideal – but Roxanne ruffles and tousles the hair like it's the sexiest thing she's ever seen.
It's not long before we've both removed our last vestiges of clothing. With my throbbing erection now freed from my underpants, Roxanne wastes no time in expertly caressing it with her lithe, graceful violinist's fingers. Every subtle movement, every minute stroke of a fingertip only makes me want her more.
After she's brought me to the precipice of a climax – one that's been brewing inside for the last four hours – I gently lower myself onto Roxanne's sumptuous naked body. Her soft, smooth surfaces rest exquisitely against mine, rough and masculine, and the sensation fills every nerve in my body. Wanting to give her a taste of what her skilled hands did to me, I seek out Roxanne's clit with a couple of my fingers and move them in little circles, gently at first, then more intensely once I can tell she's into it. And she's really, really into it. Those tiny high-pitched moans from earlier get longer and more frequent, and once I slide my fingers inside her, they're full-on wails of ecstasy. With those fingers thrusting in and out and my thumb stroking her swollen clit, Roxanne quickly reaches the brink of an overpowering orgasm. Right at the peak, she lets out a cathartic shriek as her juices surge out like a broken dam. Momentarily spent, she sinks back into the bed, her chest heaving up and down in short, shallow motions. After a pause to catch her breath, she turns her gaze back to me, her eyes shining in the candlelight. She takes my head in her hands and guides me down for a kiss, a soft and sweet peck on the lips.
"Make love to me," Roxanne whispers, the yearning in her voice almost palpable.
The phrase reverberates through my eager body. It feels inevitable, yet somehow still deliciously unexpected.
"Yes. Yes. Yes." I dot Roxanne's face with more soft kisses between my words. At this moment in time, there's nothing on earth that I want more. Yet through the haze of alcohol and supercharged hormones, I manage to think before I act. "Just let me get something on, okay?" I reach toward my nightstand to take a condom from the drawer when I feel Roxanne gently grab my wrist.
"Oh, Gavin," she says with a playful giggle. "I already went through menopause – almost three years ago now. So no more babies for me. I think we're safe."
Well, that was only part of my concern. The rest of it isn't so easy to put into words without potentially ruining the moment, and the whole evening along with it. "Oh, I know," I say reticently, still searching for the most delicate way to broach the fact that, before his dual life was uncovered, Roxanne's ex-husband was having sex with other women while still, I presume, sleeping with Roxanne. "It's just that —"
Roxanne's contented expression hardens just a bit, and she looks away.
Oh, shit, now you've done it. Smooth move, McKee.
"Listen, I know what you're thinking," she says solemnly. "After the divorce, I had myself tested just in case. And I'm clean, thank God."
I'm silent for a good minute as I attempt to read Roxanne's expression, wondering if I've derailed a magical night by making her think about her no-good bastard ex, even for a minute. "I'm sorry," I begin. "I didn't mean to —"
"Shh!" Roxanne presses her index finger against my lips to silence me, and her face softens into a sweet smile. "Don't worry about it. You have a right to know." She pulls her finger away from my mouth and sweeps a soft hand along my cheek, stopping under my chin and turning my head so my eyes are locked onto hers. "I want this, Gavin. I need it. And I think you do, too. Please, make love to me."
Before I can get into missionary position, Roxanne stops me. I'm afraid for just a moment that she's having second thoughts.
"Actually, do you mind if I'm on top?"
How is it that Roxanne seems to know exactly what I'm thinking? Now, I enjoy pretty much any position, but when it comes to roof-raising, toe-curling sex, there's nothing like woman-on-top, at least in my humble opinion.
"I would love it if you were on top."
I gently roll onto my back, to the same spot Roxanne occupied just a moment ago. Her heady scent, sweet and intoxicating, has permeated the pillow and sheets. Roxanne gets on her knees, straddles my legs, and strokes the underside of my shaft a few times before giving the tip a playful squeeze. It's total sensual overload, almost too much to bear. She takes me in, a little at a time, enjoying every inch. Once she has all of me, Roxanne inhales deeply through her nose, letting the breath out with a long, sustained moan of satisfaction.
Not that I expect otherwise, but Roxanne is an incredible lover. She reads my cues perfectly, anticipating my every desire – it's as though she knows what I want before I even know. With each up and down stroke she builds up the pace, almost imperceptibly, allowing me to linger in the moment. Once she has me right on a knife's edge of a climax, she holds back; in that wonderfully excruciating moment the rest of the world falls away, and I'm weightless, floating. There's only Roxanne and me, no one else. When at last she lets go, I release myself deep, deep inside her, riding out every spasm until there's nothing left.
And then it's over. I melt back into the pillows and sheets, the room around me a delirious blur. In a matter of seconds a delightful exhaustion starts to overtake my body.
As the euphoric high winds down, as our breathing and our pulses return to something resembling normal, Roxanne lies down beside me. She rests her head on my chest right above my heart, her hand on my shoulder. I place my arms around her, joining my hands at the small of her back. For a good while, only our breathing, almost perfectly synchronized, punctuates the contented silence.
Holy shit, did that actually just happen? How is this even real?
There are no words to do this moment justice. But after a few minutes, I try anyway, even as fatigue tightens its hold on me. "Thank you. That was just—" I pause, searching for the right superlative. "Unbelievable." Okay, not the most inspired description, but sometimes with language, less is more.
Roxanne lifts her head from my chest, resting it on her hand as she turns to face me. Even with the room illuminated only by candlelight, she's simply radiant. "You know, there was part of me that thought this would never happen for me again. That I'd turn into some bitter old woman who hated the world. That I'd never be desirable or —"
"No, that's not —"
"Hold on, I'm not finished," Roxanne says, her face brightening. "That no one would find me desirable or attractive. That that piece of me died when Brian left." For the first time tonight, her face doesn't go pallid and expressionless at the mention of his name. "But you made me feel alive again. You —"
Roxanne stops short, losing track of her words, almost as though she's overwhelmed by the moment. I place a hand at the back of her head and give her forehead a tender kiss.
She smiles at my gesture and, after a minute to gather herself, she continues. "You made me feel beautiful. Needed. Wanted. Things I hadn't felt in years. Years. You gave me back something I thought I'd lost. I've never been with a man so attentive, so caring, so... not caught up in himself." She rests her hand against my cheek again. I could get used to that. "Thank you, Gavin."
"I know exactly what you mean. I feel like the real Gavin McKee again," I reply, forcing my lips into a smile as Roxanne lays her head on my chest again. I can't possibly match her sincerity and eloquence as I'm perilously close to falling asleep. "I'm so glad I made myself go out tonight."
"So am I," Roxanne answers in a whisper as she nestles herself into my body. "So am I." Before either of us can even say 'good night', I've drifted off into a deep and blissful sleep.
And I sleep more soundly than I have in quite a while. There's none of the all-consuming regret and self-doubt that had been gnawing away at me, no conjuring unpleasant memories from the recesses of my brain, just a serenity and peace of mind I haven't known in a long time.
At some point during the night, I'm stirred partly awake by Roxanne kissing the inside of my wrist down to the crook of my arm, and we make love again in a groggy haze, this time on our sides with me behind her. But aside from that tantalizing diversion, I'm out like a proverbial light until morning.
********
And it finally happened. Whether they work out together long-term or not, you have to admit they have some serious chemistry going on!
If you're digging the fireworks between Gavin and Roxanne, please gives some thought to *voting*. Thanks so much to all who read, vote, and comment – your support means a lot to me!