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May to December

By: DawnJ



(At the request of a fan, a tender and passionate story. And yes, he requested that the woman be called Dawn.) 

*

She could feel his eyes on her, and he hadn't even been in the room five minutes. Who the hell was he, and why was he watching her? Dawn eased her bottom off the high stool she was sitting on, and walked slowly away from his position by the door. Some sixth sense told her this was the guy who had left the provocative comment on her story, and as she stole another glance at him, she wondered why an obviously younger man, handsome, well built, and clearly looking to have a good time, would ignore the younger women who were even now ogling him as he followed her around the room. She put down the glass of wine she was holding on the table by the door, and slid as inconspicuously as she could behind the drapes and out onto the wide patio. Running, and grateful for the flats she wore, she sped away from the door, intent on escaping the man whom she knew was stalking her.

Down the steps and around a corner, she found a bench tucked away in a secluded little nook, hidden almost completely from the rest of the garden by a tall flowering shrub. She sat down, slowing her breathing, making herself as small as she could when she heard footsteps approaching. The part of her that wasn't terrified was amused that she, a woman just-turned fifty, was running away from a handsome young man, instead of running toward him with open arms. If it weren't so serious, she would have laughed aloud at the sheer absurdity of it. The footsteps came closer, and she almost stopped breathing, certain she could be heard by the din of her heart beating.

"I know you're out here," a deep male voice said. Dawn tried to place the accent. He wasn't American, nor was he English, so what was he? "I just wanted to compliment you on a job well done on that story. It went exactly as I envisioned it would. I wished I was the lucky man when it was done!' She panicked as she recalled that he had signed his name on his comment, which she now could not remember to save her life. "Please come out of hiding, Dawn!" He obviously knew HER name! How humiliating! 

She remained where she was, hoping against hope that he would think she was really not there. But she knew her luck had turned when she saw the highly polished tips of an elegant pair of men's dress shoes stop by the bush, and looked up to see him smiling in triumph at her from what seemed like a great height. She stood up, determined not to be at a disadvantage with him. He stuck a hand out, still smiling.

"Hi! I'm Scott McCallum. It's so nice to meet you, Dawn!"

She didn't want to touch him, didn't want to have anything to do with him, but her hand seemed to have a mind of its own. It found itself grasped by a large, strong man's hand, engulfed and warmed. She looked up again -- he was a good six inches taller than she was, and her heart did a funny little flip at the observation -- and tried to rearrange her face into a smile.

"It's nice to meet you too, Scott!" she managed at last, feeling incredibly foolish and tongue-tied. 

Up close, he was good-looking, but with defects that only added to his good looks, oddly enough. A thin white scar ran from the corner of his mouth up into the hairline on the right side of his face. His nose was crooked, as though it had been broken and not set back properly, and another small scar marred one of two arching brows that would make any young woman proud. His lips were thin, but they smiled beautifully at her, and the one dimple in his left cheek was adorable. She tore her eyes away from his face, swallowed, and asked,

"How did you know my name? We've never met before, and I don't use it on the website."

His smile widened, and when she tugged on her hand to remove it from his grasp, he tugged back. 

"I asked," he answered simply, and raised her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across the back. Then he let her go.

He led her to the corner of the garden, away from the crowd, took her hand again and smiled. 

"I don't have any intentions of making you uncomfortable, Dawn, but I couldn't resist telling you how great your writings are." 

He brushed her hand softly, running his thumb over the back of it gently.

"You are a very beautiful woman, inside and out," he told her. "I'm single and live alone. I have a decent job, and I have never done this before. I mean approaching a lady whom I don't know, but in this case, some internal force drove me towards you. I'm here only because of you. I had no intentions of coming here otherwise." He took a breath, as if to give him the needed strength to continue, and then asked, "Will you go out to dinner with me? Wherever you like."

After he stopped speaking, to Dawn's eternal astonishment, he planted a soft kiss on her hand. It seemed like an eternity before he moved away from her, enough so she could take a breath and try to find her center beneath the onslaught of his unexpected attentions. 

Scott could smell her warm breath, could see her flushed cheeks. He knew her head was in a spin, and he wanted to make her feel comfortable, because for him she was the most desirable woman around. He felt like a teenager with his first crush, instead of a grown man pursuing a woman. He was thirty-five years old, for goodness sake, yet here he was making what were definitely all the wrong moves, overstepping his bound, probably scaring the hell out of the woman he felt so drawn to, or else amusing her no end! He didn't feel like being the bad guy, but he didn't want to seem like a clown, either. He didn't want her thinking he was a joke, or someone who was playing her for a fool, and using her to entertain his brain while he scoped out the women he was really after. He watched her gather her control around her like a cloak, and he couldn't help the way his heart leapt both in fear and admiration.

"Look, I don't know who you are, Mr. McCallum, and after this...your...behavior out here, I'm not sure I want to know who you are. Excuse me, but I must return to the party!"

Dawn stepped around him, fighting to avoid inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne. He was all man, even though she could tell by his face and his actions that he was younger than she by many years. She wasn't in the market for men just now. And until she could protect herself against the charm of a player, she intended to keep it that way. No matter what her friends said, or how her body ached with need, she was in control. Nothing would make her open herself to anyone again, especially not someone she didn't know, who was acting like a loon.

She hadn't managed to take more than a few steps when his voice stopped her again.

"I know my behavior has been odd, Dawn, and I can't blame you for being unnerved. But if you'll give me a chance, I think you'll find I'm pretty harmless. Just your average guy, wanting to get to know a woman he probably won't ever have the chance to, just because her words stir him up." He moved closer to her, and stood waiting for her to speak. When she said nothing, he continued. "Please at least have a drink with me."

Dawn inhaled deeply, and decided a drink wouldn't kill her. She didn't have to leave with him, and when he left on his own, things would go back to normal. She nodded, strangely unable to speak, and went ahead of him back into the crowded reception hall. Her town's first annual Blogging Arts Awards Ceremony had been a resounding success, with bloggers being the featured "artists". People had been pleased to give awards to online gardeners, cooks, photographers, poets, novelists, and then they had all happily come to the town hall for food and drinks and dancing.

She felt Scott's hand lightly touch her back, urging her to move through the crush of people to the bar that had been set up in the far corner, by the big entrance doors. She tried not to react to them, or to the fact that they were big, and radiated heat up and down her spine. She put her reactions down to all the years that she had gone without a man to ease the growing lusts that rocked her. Her stories had become increasingly wilder and more erotic as her need had grown, and it was one of the last ones that Scott had read and left his provocative comment on.

"What would you like?" His voice broke into her musings, a deep, sensual stroke over her sensitized nerve endings, reaching deep inside her where she hid from the world, and making her want to scream in agitation. She couldn't have been more attuned to him if he had been touching her. 

"A glass of wine, please," she answered, infuriated that her voice was a husky whisper. 

"Red or white?" The press of his sex appeal was a relentless lash of pleasure in her ear, on her skin, in her deepest core. She was humiliated that her unmet needs had led her to a place where simply hearing a stranger speak could reduce her to a mass of shivering awareness. She needed to escape, but she had committed to one drink, so she steeled herself to being in his company for another few minutes, while she racked her brain for a way to leave without either embarrassing herself or offending him.

"Red, please!"

Scott watched Dawn's face while he ordered. He had felt the way she held herself stiffly when he touched her, and knew she was tightly wound up, ready to spring away from him in a heartbeat. He found her a fascinating mix of heated sensuality and frosty rationality. He liked that opposition in her; it drew him to her inexorably. He admitted, as he handed her the drink, that the first story of hers that he had read had turned him on so much he had had to help himself relieve the unspeakable ache, exploding in hard, pulsing jets of semen. But even when his cock had loosened its death grip on him, he had felt as if she were speaking to him, looking over his shoulder, seeing who and what he was, and stroking him into mindless release.

He had never had such a visceral response to anything before, and he realized that there was something about THIS woman that called to him. He had been on that erotic writing site many times before, and had read many stories that had pushed him over the edge, but none had left him feeling a need to know the writer, all of whom had been female, till now. He wasn't a spiritual man, but he took it as a sign that he was supposed to find her, when he couldn't get her out of his head, when jerking off to her graphic depictions of lovemaking did nothing to assuage the ache of desire inside, where his hands could not reach.

And just these few minutes with her and he was cured. Now his ache was centered on her, and the knowledge that she was the reason her stories wouldn't leave him, and that only with her would he feel real satisfaction. He knew, though he didn't know how he did, that she was HIS story. He watched her sip delicately, watched her tongue slip out to catch the drop that clung to that sweetly curved upper lip. His groin tightened, and he shifted his stance to ease the constriction in his slacks. It was way too soon for that kind of reaction to her nearness, especially given how skittish she was in his company.

"Why did you need to ask who I was?" Dawn asked, surprising him. She was watching him closely, as thought to ferret out the lies she seemed sure he was going to tell her.

"You look different from the picture you have posted on your profile, and you don't call yourself Dawn there. I wanted to be sure." He told her the truth, and hoped he wouldn't seem like some kind of stalker.

"Why did you have to speak to me? Wasn't reading my stories enough?" Her voice remained cautious, unconvinced that he was just what he appeared to be.

"Am I the only fan of yours who has approached you this evening?" he asked, wanting to turn the tables on her, wanting to unsettle her just a bit.

"You're the only fan who has asked me out to dinner!" she shot back sharply, putting the glass with the wine she had barely touched back on the counter.

Scott could see her getting ready to dump him, and he really couldn't blame her. But he wasn't ready to be parked just yet. He wanted more time with her. She was like a fever in his blood, raising his temperature, and he was determined to find out what his reactions to her were a symptom of before he let her escape.

"Look, I know I came on a bit strong," he began, but when he saw the way she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes at him, he admitted, "okay, I came on really strong, but you don't understand the pull your words have exerted on me. I've been to that site many times, and read a lot of other lady writers' work, but when I read that first story of yours, it was like I recognized you. As though we had known each other in another time or place, but had lost touch. And I wanted to get it back."

He stopped talking and just watched her, his mind racing to think of other things to say to keep her from bolting. He knew that was what she was planning to do; he could see it in her stance, the set of her shoulders, the way she clutched her purse, the way she avoided his eyes. He had the impossible urge to kiss that hunted look right off her face, and it bothered him that he could not shake it, despite his best intentions to buck up and walk away. She was obviously not interested in him, and he had rather leave than be left. He gathered the tattered remnants of his dignity about him and prepared to leave, determined to handle the ache he felt growing like a ball of iron in his chest.

"I'm sorry I was offensive, Dawn. I'll go now. Enjoy the rest of your evening!" His voice was crisp and impersonal, and he grasped at his control, summoning up a smile before downing the rest of his drink, placing his glass on the bar, and turning sharply away.

"Mr. McCallum, please forgive my...lack of hospitality." He heard her voice from behind him and turned back to look at her. He said nothing, waiting, half turned, to hear what else she had to say. "Perhaps we can sit outside where it's quieter, and I can answer any questions you have."

He squelched the sudden urge to grin like a fool, recognizing the huge concession she was making, and feeling immensely grateful that he had been given another chance to try to persuade her to take him seriously, even if he was acting like an impetuous ass. 

"Another glass of wine?" he asked, and ordered a second drink for himself when she refused one. This time he let her lead the way to a quiet nook on the wide porch that wrapped around the mansion that housed the town hall. Waiting for her to choose a seat, then sitting across from her, he sipped his drink and watched her try to compose her features and settle her spine against the high-backed wicker chair she had chosen.

"So, aside from wanting to have dinner with me, what would you like to know?"

Dawn had no idea how provocative a question she had asked the man who sat watching her the way she imagined a cat might watch a mouse. He looked hungry, and apparently he thought only she could sate his desires. She had closeted herself off from men a long time ago, but it did not stop her from recognizing the signs of desire in Scott McCallum's gaze. She wondered idly -- and surprised herself that she wasn't more frightened by the thought -- if he really was a stalker. 

She watched him as she tried to decide on an answer, and when he said, "I'm not quite sure where to start. I wouldn't want to give the wrong impression!", she decided he wasn't dangerous, just crazy. The thought made her smile. Here she was just turned fifty, trying to find a way to avoid the amorous advances of a man who was at least ten years her junior.

"Are your stories based on personal experiences?" He asked the question he knew she probably heard most often from the many men he was sure had contacted her about her work over the years. He found himself desperate to know whether or not she was as experienced as the women in her stories.

Dawn smiled. If she had a dollar for every time someone, usually a man, asked her that question, she could probably keep herself in expensive perfumes for life.

"I'm sure the thought of such an experienced woman would make any man salivate," she answered, trying to keep the sarcasm and cynicism out of her voice, "but I have to confess that most of the stories bear very little resemblance to my life. There may be one event that triggers the inspiration for some stories, and my female characters may exhibit some of my traits, but as a whole these stories are entirely fantasy." 

As soon as she uttered the last word, she knew she had given him an opening she hadn't meant to do, and she cringed inwardly, and hoped he would be less intuitively intelligent so he would miss it. Her hopes were dashed when he asked almost immediately,

"Fantasy? Are you saying the stories represent your sexual fantasies?" 

His eyes watched her closely, his face expressionless as he sipped his drink, and Dawn groaned inwardly. He may be obsessed, but he was too damned smart for his own, or her, good. She wrestled with a way to respond that would not give away any more of herself than she was willing to give to a stranger.

"I think all writers' stories represent their fantasies," she finally said, and lowered her eyes to the table between them. She found she could not look him in the eyes and equivocate as she had just done. She was too bloody honest, and it irritated her to have to speak in half-truths, and angered her that he had put her in that position. Until she recalled that she had been the one to use the word which triggered his troubling question. She didn't want to be the pathetic woman who had no sex life, and who had no other way to relieve her sexual frustrations than to write them out in her stories.

His silence was becoming unnerving, and she finally raised her eyes to look at him, only to find him watching her with a small, knowing smile playing about his lips. Lips she didn't want to look at, or be aware of as more than a part of his face, a face she was not supposed to notice had high cheekbones, a tempting mouth -- my God, it was sin personified! -- and dark eyes to match the thick hair on his head. The cleft in his chin made her ache with a need to touch it, and the hint of a dimple was driving her crazy with desire. She felt herself coloring up, and stood abruptly, suddenly desperate to put as much distance as she could between herself and this man who was definitely a threat to her peace of mind.

"I'm afraid I must go back to the party, Mr. McCallum. It was nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening!"

She hurried away, and Scott watched her run away from his question, from him, the smile on his face broadening. He had touched a nerve, and he was determined to explore it, like a surgeon looking for buckshot in a wound. He'd do his best to ensure that she didn't feel the pain that his probing might cause, but more than ever now, he intended to know the woman who had captured his imagination. He finished his drink, watching the night sky and making plans.

Two days later, after his second double shift at the hospital was over, Scott parked his white roadster in the spot in front of his townhouse. He sat in the car for a few minutes, just letting the weariness he had been suppressing rise to the surface. He was exhausted. Between working sixteen-hour shifts, and not getting enough sleep when he was home, he could barely hold a coherent thought. He was even too tired to be hungry. Another double shift was in his immediate future, so he dragged his body out of the low-slung car, and went inside. A quick shower later, he was sprawled in bed, naked and incredibly aroused. It never failed. He'd be home, and barely able to move, and yet, before his shower was done, he was hard and aching. Thoughts of Dawn assailed him in the shower, and he seemed powerless to spare himself the torture of an unrelenting hard-on. He sighed and rolled over, pulling the sheets up over his hips, in deference to his mother and younger sister, who sometimes came over with food while he was asleep.


May to December Ch. 02



Dawn did not hear from Scott again until Friday night, before he went to work. He called to ask what time she was leaving the next day, and told her he was working a double and wouldn't be in touch until Sunday. 

"Thanks for calling, Scott," she said as he rang off. She had known him a week and a half, but it somehow felt longer. She knew that his interest in her had not abated, and she admitted that she was much more interested in him than she wanted to be. It didn't stop her from wondering what he was doing, though, as she loaded her car with her neighbor Dana's help next morning. She remembered how he had helped her pack up her office, how he had sniped at her for keeping the moldy books, how he had kissed her lips.

"Are you feeling all right, Dawn?" Dana asked.

Dawn blinked at her. "What? Yes, I'm feeling fine! Why?"

"You're looking very flushed! I know you hate the AC, but maybe you should turn it on a bit!"

Dawn let her friend turn the air conditioner on low, and turned on the radio to distract herself from thoughts of Scott. By the time they arrived at her new home, she was already unpacking in her head, and the rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity. By the time she fell in to bed in her new home, she was exhausted. Her arm throbbed a bit, and she suddenly recalled the day he had come to check on her and found she had not taken her meds. She got out of bed to swallow two painkillers and then sank back under the thin sheet, praying she could relax enough to sleep. 

When she woke up on Sunday morning, the room was bright with morning light, and she ached in every muscle. Her arm felt much better, but she knew it would stiffen up if she didn't get out of bed soon. She was loath to leave the soft comfort, though, and sighed, wishing she had someone to lie in bed with on a Sunday morning, just because. Unbidden, Scott's kiss came to mind, and the way he made her feel. She was flattered by his attention at the same time that it frightened her. Men like him, successful, handsome, sexy men, didn't pursue middle-aged women with love handles and double chins. It must be some kind of cosmic joke, and she needed to remember that before she got carried away.

The mood was broken by her sober thoughts, and she climbed out of bed and went to take a shower to work the kinks out before continuing the task of unpacking. As she washed her hair, being careful not to overstress her injured arm, she thought of the many times she had moved, and how lonely the moving had been once Hunter had died. Even after their divorce, he had been her best friend, once the anger and hurt had subsided. His death was a blow she was still reeling from. They should never have married, she realized, with the perspicacity of hindsight, but she didn't know where she would have been now if it hadn't been for him.

Dressing in a loose summer dress, she went to make herself a PB and J sandwich for breakfast, and as she brewed coffee, she wolfed it down while standing at the counter trying to decide what to do first. The kitchen was airy and large, the two ovens still making her smile. The large cooktop with the grill to the side of the four large burners sat in the center island, to one side of the counter, with the sink on the other. She loved her new kitchen. In another life, she might have been a chef! 

The sandwich done, she stood still for a moment more, sipping her coffee, and suddenly recalled that Scott said he would call. She had a new home number which he did not know, and he didn't have her cell phone number. So unless she called him, they wouldn't speak today, either. In fact, they wouldn't speak again, ever. She wrestled with the need to hear his voice, and the need to remain aloof, and took her coffee with her into the office. She'd unpack in there first, so she could write. Her writing soothed her, and she needed it.

By the time she had set up her laptop and printer, and was starting on the first shelf of books, she knew she would call him. It was silly to keep pretending a lack of interest when she couldn't budge him from her thoughts, so she might as well learn what it was like to have him as a friend. Her decision made, she emptied one box and then sat in the office chair and reached for the phone. She had put his cell phone number in her Rolodex, and she flipped through it till she got to his name. The phone rang without an answer, and she swallowed the taste of disappointment. Why she had thought he would be there when she needed him to be she didn't understand. She hung up after leaving her name and number, and worked disconsolately for another couple of hours, before finding the one-handed method of unpacking and stacking bookshelves more than she could bear any longer.

Feeling inexplicably sorry for herself, she went to see what she had brought to stock the fridge till she could shop for groceries. She had bottled water, bread, eggs, and a six-pack of yogurt in there. Dana had made her a casserole, and Jeff had fed her sweet tooth and her chocolate addiction with some chocolate ice cream. She reached for the ice cream, and grabbing a spoon, went to sit in the sunny spot on the back porch. The steps were warm, and she enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face. She thought she heard the phone ring, but couldn't be sure, and she rather preferred to stay where she was, soaking in the sun and the chocolate.

Back inside, feeling somewhat comforted, she went back to unpacking her office when the phone rang again. She put it in speaker mode and answered absently, thinking it might be Dana calling to check up on her.

"Hello." She stifled a yawn, and apologized. "Sorry...I'm a bit fagged." 

"Did you get enough sleep last night?" Scott's voice was like a sharp nudge in her ribs, and she almost dropped the book she had been holding.

"Yes, I did," she said, and refused to say more.

"Doesn't sound like it," he commented on a chuckle. "Thanks for the number. I didn't realize, till I was at work, that I didn't have your new one."

"You're welcome." 

"So, how is everything? All moved in?"

"Yes, thanks, and I've started unpacking."

"Need some help?" The question was innocent enough, and it was certainly one he had asked before, but still Dawn hesitated. 

"If you meant what you said last time, why is it so hard to answer me now?" he wondered in a most reasonable tone. 

"It's not hard," she said defensively, "but I assume you're tired after pulling a double."

She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, as though he knew what she was doing. "That was yesterday. I'm all rested now. So, do you need some help?"

"Yes, I do." She gave up trying to stay away from the flame of his charm, and gave him her new address.

"I'll see you in half an hour," he said. "And thank you!"

He rang off before she could ask what he was thinking her for, but she figured it must be that he realized she was trusting him a bit more. She shook her head as she recalled running away from him and hiding in the garden of the town hall, as though she had known instinctively that he would be the end of her peace of mind. She went into the kitchen and decided she'd make lunch till he got there. The casserole looked delicious, and so she shared two portions, and set them in the oven to warm, and as she had nothing but water, and a bottle of wine, she put the wine to chill in the freezer. By the time he got there, it would be cold enough that she could leave it in the fridge till he wanted it.

She was just taking the casserole out of the oven when her doorbell chimed. Placing the plates on the wicker mats on the table, she went to let Scott in. His smile was warm when he met her eyes, and the kiss on her cheek was not unexpected. 

"I didn't know what you had in your fridge," he said, "so I took the liberty of buying you some ready-made food. Things I buy myself for days when I don't feel like making too much of an effort."

She tried to take one of the shopping bags from him, but he avoided her and asked the way to the kitchen. She led him there, and watched him set down the four bags of groceries he had bought for her.

"Scott, this is too much!" she exclaimed, as he began to unpack the items. She marveled at the things he had bought. How he knew she liked chicken salad, and Swedish meatballs, for example, she would never know. 

"Where do you want these?" he asked, as he unpacked. 

"I'll pack them away in a bit," she said. "Come sit and eat. Lunch is ready." She gestured for him to sit, and placed the bottle of wine and two bottles of water on the table between them. She fetched knives and forks, and two glasses, while Scott raided the bags and produced napkins. 

"Dig in! It's just the right temperature now!"

"How did you know I'd be starving?" he asked, before stuffing his mouth. His brows rose, and he paused in his eating to say, "This is delicious! You're a good cook!"

Dawn smiled, and shook her head. "Yes, I am, but I didn't cook this. Dana did! She gave me a big casserole, and I'm glad you're here to help me eat it!"

Something came and went in his eyes before she could read it, and she wondered what he was hiding from her. Probably some randy thought, she decided, and was glad he had hidden it. They ate quietly, Scott opting for wine with his meal, declaring himself more than ready to knock back a glass or two after his weekend.

"Hard shifts?" she asked, looking at him as he wiped his lips on a napkin and sipped his wine.

"You could say that," he replied. She sensed his reluctance to talk about whatever had happened, so she waited for him to speak.

"I'm not being secretive, Dawn, and nothing bad happened -- well not worse than usual. I just would rather not talk shop when I'm with you. I don't often get the chance to spend time with you, and I don't want to waste it. I hope you don't mind." 

"No, not at all!" she exclaimed, understanding perfectly. Before their divorce, one of the things that had irked her about Hunter was his incessant need to chatter about his day as they were driving home. She could have done without the blow by blow, because she chose not to share the highlights of her day, even when she could have done with the release.

"So, how can I help you today?" he asked, the relief clear on his face.

"I'll pack away the groceries while you go on with the office. It's just down the hall...the door is open. I'll be there as soon as I can be. Don't worry about where you put the books. I can always sort them afterwards."

Snagging a bottle of water from the table, he sauntered off, and she found herself watching the way his jeans hugged his hips, the way his t-shirt kissed his wide shoulders, the way his arms swung loosely as he turned into the office. He was lean and muscular, and she wondered how he managed to keep himself looking that mouthwatering with the way he could put away food.

Once she was done, she went to help him with the office. He didn't seem to have gotten too far, and she wondered if he was more tired than he had admitted to her. Then, as she went to help him with the box he was working on, she noticed that the books he had managed to get on the shelves were all more or less of the same sort. He was sorting as he unpacked! 

"Scott, you really don't need to be so meticulous, you know!" she protested.

"I can't be here often to help you, so I decided to help properly when I am around," was his adamant response. "So, am I doing all right?"

"You're doing fine!" she said smiling, and let him help her sort as they unpacked. By the time the office was set up, it was late afternoon, and she had lost her enthusiasm for unpacking.

"Thanks, this is great!" she enthused, looking around her. "Want some ice cream? I have a sweet tooth, and it's craving a reward!"

Scott laughed and followed her back to the kitchen, where he washed his hands and sat down to wait for his helping.

"Mmmm! Chocolate! My favorite kind!" He waited till she sat down before digging in, obviously savoring the sweet treat. Dawn let her guard down, enjoying the cold sweet, relishing the deep flavor, barely managing to suppress a sigh of pleasure. So she was unprepared to feel his lips on hers and, more shockingly, his tongue licking her bottom lip. Her eyes flew open, and he said "Mmmmm! Delicious!", making her blush to the roots of her hair.

She was spellbound. She couldn't move, even if she wanted to, and for the first time in a very long time, she didn't want to move away from the kiss she saw coming. Scott reached across the table and pulled her to his mouth, kissing her slowly, gently, tenderly, cherishing her lips, not venturing inside until Dawn, unable to withhold the invitation a second longer, parted them for him.

He inhaled sharply, releasing her so abruptly that she almost fell. Before she could right herself or feel angry at his rejection, he was at her side, turning her so that her back was to the table, pulling her to stand and setting her bottom on the edge so he could accept the invitation she had just given him. This time, there was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was hot, wild, deep, hungry, demanding from her things she hadn't ever given to any man, including Hunter. Scott held her securely in his arms, his embrace unbreakable, even were she thinking of trying to escape. He adjusted her to make she fit better, then pulled her away from the table till he was leaning against the counter. He widened his stance, and pulled her between his legs, so he could cradle her hips as he caressed and teased and devoured her mouth.

Dawn was lost in the wildness of his kisses, amazed by the hunger of them, and suddenly ravenous for more. Although she felt the hard evidence of his arousal, she could not muster the strength to push away from him or seek freedom. She wasn't even outraged. She was just so turned on she could barely breathe. Everything she had been missing was here, wrapped in the arms she had finally slid around his neck. She couldn't let him go, and moaned when he pressed her hips firmly against his, as if to make sure she knew what she was doing to him. 

"You like that, baby?" The endearment sounded so right, so perfect for the feelings he was sharing with her without saying a word. She nodded, and he pressed her close again, this time rolling his hips and dragging a groan from her. She answered him with an inward press, circling her hips as he pulled her closer, and they both groaned. She felt herself beginning to tremble, and she knew what that meant. Her body may be older, but it hadn't changed so much that she didn't recognize what was happening to her. He was taking her up past every barrier she had set in place, and if she let him, he would throw her into a shuddering orgasm.

He must have sensed her conflicting feelings of hunger and fear, because he released her mouth, and peeled her arms from around his neck, pulling her away from the temptation of his hips.

"Unless you want me to go where I don't think you're ready for me as yet, we have to stop!" His voice was raw, as though he had a bad cold, and his hands shook as he put her away from him.

"I think it's time for me to retreat, don't you?" he asked, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't trust myself to stay here with you and not take this further, and I know you're not ready to go where I want us to go, but make no mistake, Dawn. I want you. All of you. And I'm willing to wait for my prize."

Dawn couldn't speak. She was too busy focusing on keeping her feet under her. She heard what he said, and knew he was right, but her flesh tingled from his touch, her lips throbbed where he had drunk from her, her core ached for him. She managed to take the five steps to the table, and grab her glass, draining the wine in it to steady herself. She could feel his eyes on her, knew he was struggling as much as she was to remain calm, and felt a surge of power at the thought.

"My shifts are changing this week, so I won't know when I'm available till tomorrow. I'll give you a call. But in the meantime, if you need me, call me, okay?" He spoke quietly, and then he turned and went toward the front. Dawn trailed behind him, loath to break the connection between them, wishing she could do more than hum internally from the still zinging electrical charge of his caresses. When he opened the door, she was in sufficient control that she could smile when he said,

"Next time it will be better, now that you've relaxed." Another heated press of lips, a whispered goodbye, and he was gone again.

She supposed she ought to be grateful that one of them had called time back there in the kitchen, before she completely lost her mind and her inhibitions. She was not the sort of woman who threw caution to the winds, and particularly not in situations such as this. But there was something about Scott that kept drawing her in, despite their ages, despite her misgivings. And for the first time since Hunter's death, she was overwhelmed by the long suppressed desire to be loved, to be cherished, to be wanted and needed and cared for by someone she could respond to with passion and love. She couldn't explain why it was Scott who drew those desires back to the surface, but she knew instinctively that he was the one who would fulfill them...if only she would let go and trust him.

She had an editing deadline to meet, and for the rest of the week, she worked tirelessly between editing the four manuscripts she had accepted, and unpacking her boxes. Her house was coming together nicely, and she looked forward to Christmas, when she could show off the living room, with its enormous fireplace and handsome mantelpiece to best advantage. Dana and Jeff had already been entertained in it, sharing their good news with her, and she looked forward to being a godmother/auntie again.

Scott called once to say he had to pull two doubles, and his work hours were night shifts otherwise, so he wouldn't be able to see or speak to her till the next weekend. He promised to try and call, but Dawn knew he would be hard pressed to do so again, if he had to work doubles and still find time to sleep. Knowing that didn't stop her from wishing against hope that every phone call was from him, or decrease her disappointment when it wasn't. By Friday morning she was despondent, and upset with herself for letting him matter so much. 

Throwing herself into something she loved would take her mind off him, she decided, and as this was the first weekend when the house was almost fully unpacked, she decided to cook a full three-course gourmet meal and treat her friends to dinner on Sunday afternoon. She'd invite them tonight, once she had decided on the menu. She switched on the little television in the kitchen, and settled back to watch the Food Network, hoping for inspiration. She was in the middle of Chopped when the phone rang, and she reached for it idly, her attention focused on the way the contestants were preparing ingredients that included Portobello mushrooms, shrimp, and hard candy in the entree round.

"'Lo," she said absently.

"Hi!" Scott's voice dragged her immediately away from the riveting competition, rolling over her like a wave of heat. "I'm sorry I haven't called back, but it's been crazy here, and then when I get home, I fall asleep I'm so wiped out. How have you been?"

"I...I'm fine!" she stammered, fumbling for words. Trust him to surprise her when she was least expecting it!

"I'm off for the weekend, and I wondered if you'd care to have dinner with me now," he continued. 

His voice was carefully neutral, but Dawn remembered the conversation they had had at their first meeting where she had thrown it in his face that he was the only fan who had asked her out for dinner. She blushed furiously, suddenly embarrassed, and was grateful that he could not see her. 

"I know this lovely little Thai restaurant halfway between your new home and my house with food I think you will enjoy. And the ambiance is great -- very soothing and exotic. So, are you free for dinner tonight?"




May to December Ch. 02



"Well, I was going to do some cooking myself," she began, but he interrupted her.

"Next time, I promise I'll come and we can enjoy your feast. But I wanted this to be my treat. Please?"

He sounded like a little boy just then, begging his mother for a treat. Dawn smiled. Somehow, she didn't think he would appreciate the comparison, especially as he obviously didn't see her as a Madonna figure. 

"Okay. How did you know I like Thai food, anyway?" she asked.

"I think we have a lot more in common than you may realize, and my gut said you would," he replied. "I'm happy I was right! What time shall I come pick you up?"

"I've nothing planned, so it's up to you, really," she said, hoping he'd give her at least an hour.

"Six?"

"Six is fine, thank you!" She breathed a sigh of relief. She had a few of hours to figure out what to wear and take a long, hot bath.

After he rang off, she went to see about clothes, and finally, on the fourteenth outfit, decided this would set the right tone. It was a deep purple calf-length dress with a wide skirt and long sleeves that hugged her arms, and a cowl neckline that hinted at the treasures it hid. After luxuriating in a long bath, she dressed carefully, putting her hair up and setting silver earrings in her ears. The bangles Hunter had given her when they had first met, her talisman when she felt unsure, adorned her left arm, and the watch she always wore with silver her right. A pretty crystal pendant hung from the silver chain suspended from her neck, and it nestled comfortably in her cleavage.

A last spritz of Rumba, one of her favorite fragrances, a touch of lip gloss and eye shadow, and she was ready. Glancing at the clock, she saw she had fifteen minutes left, so she made sure the house was locked up, and was about to head into her office when the doorbell rang. Inhaling deeply, she opened it, and offered him a bright smile. He presented her with a bouquet of yellow roses, and followed her into the kitchen. Fetching the vase for her, he filled it with water, found the plant food and added a few drops, and watched her arrange the blooms in it.

"Where to?" he asked, and went with her into the living room, where he put it on the center table at her direction. 

"Déjà vu!" he commented with a smile. "Ready?"

"Yes." Purse in hand, she followed him out the door, locked it, and walked with him to his car. 

Scott handed her into the passenger seat and went around to the driver side, willing his hard-on to subside. She would notice it otherwise, and he didn't want their first date to be marred by her fears or suspicions about his motives. He knew he would take her to bed in a heartbeat, but he also knew he wouldn't do anything she didn't want. He wanted this evening to be perfect, and his lust had no place here...not yet. He struggled to remain cool as he drove off, avoiding looking at her, letting the music that filled the car calm him, letting her set the tone. If she preferred silence, he could be quiet.

"Nice car," she commented at last, her voice low and husky.

"Thanks," he replied. He waited a moment, and then added, "You look wonderful!"

Her whispered thanks was the last word between them until they were being seated in the dim restaurant. He asked her what she would like to drink, and placed the order while she scanned the menu for an appetizer that wouldn't fill her up. Scott watched her pore over the choices and wished he wasn't so busy all the time. This getting to know her part was taking altogether too long, and he was having to restrain himself more than he might otherwise have done. But she was the first woman he wanted to please completely, without thinking of his own pleasure, and he would not spoil his chances by being in too great a hurry.

When the waiter arrived they placed their appetizer order, deciding to share a kind of Thai Pu Pu Platter consisting of mini shrimp lettuce wraps, chicken satay sticks, fried wontons, and coconut shrimp, before he turned his attention to her fully. 

"How was your week?" he wanted to know, sipping his drink, and chewing on a fried wonton.

"It was busy, and exhausting," she answered, "but most of the unpacking is done." She swallowed a mouthful of food, and added on a chuckle, "Except for the basement."

He laughed softly, and caught her eye. Warmth washed over him. She was relaxed, and she was radiant. The silver jewelry she wore shimmered in the dim light, and her eyes sparkled, capturing his own. He reached for a coconut shrimp at the same time as she did, and ended up feeding it to her. The intimate act brought a flush of color to her cheeks, but she did not withdraw from him.

"Any time you're ready," he offered, chuckling, holding her gaze. He watched her cheeks heat further as she got his double meaning.

"I'll bear that in mind," she answered, and smiled into his eyes.

The intimacy of the moment held them in its grip, and for a minute neither moved nor spoke, but looked deeply into the other's eyes. Dawn saw Scott's desire for her clearly, and he saw hers. It startled him, and he reached for her hand, raising it to his lips.

"I'm glad you weren't too tired to come to dinner with me," he said, squeezing her fingers before releasing her.

"I decided I owed it to myself to have a handsome man with a decent job spend some of his money on me," she said with a teasing snicker. "Christmas in July, you know?"

Scott smiled at her, but remained silent for a moment, offering her a lettuce wrap, and watching her lips close around the cocktail fork. The enormity of what she had just said was not lost on him, and eating gave him the space to process it, and to suppress his desire to leap across the table and devour her. He had to clear his throat before answering her.

"Glad you think of me as a gift! I'll take that over "stalker" any day, thank you!" He smirked at her, and then asked, "What should I do for an encore?"

"You should make sure I enjoy this evening thoroughly." Dawn's smile was flirtatious, but Scott could see she was serious.

"I'll do my best," he said, and signaled the waiter. "What's your pleasure?" he asked her as the young man approached.

"What's yours?" she returned, holding his gaze. Scott knew what she was doing, his little bundle of contradictions. His. He liked the sound of that. 

"What other seafood do you like?" he asked. He fed her the last chicken satay stick, and watched her lick her lips to get the spicy sauce he had dipped it in off it.

"Not lobster or that slimy stuff in shells."

"Okay, no lobster or oysters in shells." He chuckled. "Check! So, you trust me to order for you?" 

She hadn't said it in so many words, and he found he wanted to hear it. He wouldn't think about what other pleasure she had meant, not now, when he had finally managed to get the hard-on under some measure of control.

"Yes," she replied immediately. "You seemed to know what I would like when you shopped for groceries for me."

Scott placed the order hurriedly, wanting to get back to sparring with her, wanting the electricity that was beginning to arc between them to remain. 

"Does that bother you, Dawn? That I seem to know you so well?"

She laughed quietly. "I don't know about the so well part, Scott, but it does, and it doesn't. It could just mean you had been stalking me and saw what kinds of things I like to buy. Or it could be you were just lucky. My gut tells me you're not a stalker -- when would you have the time, anyway? So you must just have beginner's luck!"

He chuckled. "There's something to be said for luck. And I do feel like a lucky guy this evening."

"Why is that?" she wondered, watching his cheeks dimple.

"I've got the best looking woman in the place sitting at my table, for starters!"

"There's more?" She blinked once, a slow lowering and lifting of her lashes which he might have been forgiven for thinking was a wink, except that it was both eyes.

"Oh, lots," he answered nonchalantly, chewing on the last piece of shrimp.

She blinked again. "Oh come on! Don't be shy! Tell me!"

"I'm not shy," he said, serious as a judge suddenly. "I'm careful. And I'll tell you when the time is right. For now, it's time to eat!"

He was glad the food came just then. He wanted her to stay interested in him and what he was thinking. And he needed to keep his body under control. They ate in companionable silence. He had ordered gang pa, a spicy meat and vegetable dish, and pad thai for them to share, and he noticed she relished the extra heat in the meat dish. That confirmed another suspicion he had, and as he watched her sip the coconut juice that he had ordered with the meal, he wondered how many other things they had in common. 

"This was great!" she enthused as she swallowed the last of her noodles and emptied her glass. "May I have another?" She indicated her glass, and he nodded and raised a hand for the waiter.

"Do you trust me for dessert, too?" he asked as the young man arrived. At her nod and smile, he ordered two more coconut juices, one sticky rice with mango and one bananas in coconut cream.

"I haven't enjoyed dinner this much in a very long time," Dawn remarked, avoiding Scott's eyes for the first time all evening. He reached across the table and tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

"Why are you hiding now?" he demanded quietly. "What is it you don't want to admit, or want me to see?"

"What makes you think I'm hiding anything?" she hedged.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you're NOT hiding anything," he said, ignoring her question.

Dawn looked at him but could not speak the lie. He smiled. "That's how I know," he said in triumph, and leaned over to kiss her, suddenly unable to deny himself the prize he most wanted just then. She opened her mouth to him, and he stole a deeper kiss for a moment, before letting her go and sitting back. His hands trembled, and the erection he had been fighting returned full force. 

The waiter's arrival gave him a much-needed reprieve.?

He stole a quick glance at her and saw she was holding herself stiffly, and once more avoiding his gaze, but somehow he also knew she was not withdrawing from him. He knew she was as aroused as he was, and struggling as he was to control it. He drank half his drink in two gulps, and then asked her which dessert she would like to try first.

"Whichever you prefer," she answered huskily, finally raising her eyes to his. 

Scott made a decision. The teasing, the flirting, the desire were more than he could bear any longer. He wanted her under him, over him, around him. He wanted her...and he couldn't wait any more.

"Please tell me you've had enough," he asked, calling the waiter back and asking for their desserts to be packed to go. "Please say you're ready to leave." His eyes were blazing at her, his hunger plain for her to see.

"I'm ready to leave," she whispered obediently.

Scott had no idea how long it took for their dessert to be packed, for the bill to be paid, for them to get out to the car. He breathed a deep sigh of relief when he had settled her in her seat and got in himself. Inhaling deeply again, he put the car in gear and drove off, not sure where he was headed. He should take her back to her home, but he wanted their first time together to be on his turf...and he knew tonight would be their first time. He had seen the longing in her eyes when she had echoed his words at the restaurant, and he had made it his mission to give her everything she wanted. 

"I've seen your pad. Would you mind seeing mine before I take you home?"

Dawn turned to look at him, and smiled. "As long as the intention is to take me home eventually."

Scott let out the breath he had been holding, and relaxed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Whenever you say, Dawn!"

When he parked in the spot in front of his home, a deeply indrawn breath told him Dawn had dozed off. He smiled. The evening just kept getting better. She had relaxed enough to fall asleep in his car on the way to a place she had never been before. He reached over and took her hands in his.

"We're here, Dawn!"

Her eyes snapped open, and he tried to spare her blushes, knowing she wouldn't like it that he had seen her sleeping, by getting out of the car and going round to help her out. The night was cool, and as he escorted her indoors, he thought of where he could take her for a moonlight picnic. As a second date, that would be grand, he decided.

"Go through," he invited her, indicating the door to his left. "Would you like coffee or wine with dessert?"

"Wine, please, or I'll be up all night!" She spoke carelessly, but Scott's cock jerked in his slacks as he walked away.

A sound made him turn his head as he was setting the desserts, the wine bottle and glasses on a tray. Dawn came to him and put her hands on his.

"Why don't we just eat here?" she suggested, removing her hands and sitting in the chair next to him. "Saves you having to carry a tray."

"Good idea," he agreed, and sat next to her, pouring her a glass of white wine. "Now, where were we?" A pause. "Ah, yes. Which would you like to try first?"

"Whichever you prefer," she said again, and smiled.

He chose the banana dessert and fed her spoonfuls between the mouthfuls he took. It was delicious, and decadent, and hit the spot.

"Is your sweet tooth happy now?" he asked chuckling, when the treat was done.

Dawn answered his amusement with her own. "She's halfway there," she said. "One more treat, and she'll be in heaven." 

She took a spoon and dipped it into the rice mixture. Scooping a helping onto it, she pressed it to his lips. Scott opened for her, and she dragged the spoon on his bottom lip on the way out of his mouth. Then, as he watched her, she used the same spoon to feed herself a mouthful. Scott's mouth instantly watered for a taste...of her. He swallowed just as she offered him a second spoonful. 

"Good?" she wondered, taking her own spoonful.

"Very," he answered hoarsely. 

When she came to him a third time, he held her hand with the spoon in it, and fed himself, and then said, "Wine, please!" When she offered him the wine, he took a sip, and then took the glass so he could return the favor. Then, setting down the glass, he reached over to kiss her. It was a light kiss, or it was meant to be, until she touched his cheek. He turned fully in his chair and pulled her into his arms. 

"Dawn, I'm going to kiss you properly now. I can't wait any longer. Fair warning...it won't be a friendly kiss."

He bent his head, but she put a hand to his mouth. "Sounds like I'll have to prepare myself. What kind will it be?"

"This kind," he growled, and pushed her fingers away, slanting his mouth over hers, pushing his tongue between the lips she had instinctively opened for him. He suckled her, making her moan and ratcheting up his lust. He ate at her, so hungry for her that he pulled her onto his lap so he could hold her as close to his heart as possible. And as their heartbeats quickened, he turned her again so that she straddled him on the chair, and pulled her body all the way into his, so that her heat cradled his iron-hard erection, scorching it and driving him wild. And still he kissed her, as though he could not get enough of her lips and tongue.

When he let her up for air, Scott slid his hands along her neck, stretching his thumbs up to her bottom lip and pulling it down so her teeth showed. Leaning in, he kissed her again, slowly and tenderly. 

"Come and see round, now," he invited, and stood with her still straddling him. He let her body slide down his, and savored the feel of her against his legs, against his cock, against him. He groaned when she bit her lip, and stepped away from her.

"This is the kitchen, where I do most of my eating, unless I'm listening to music, in which case I'm in the living room, through here," he said, and drew her into the comfortably-sized room off the foyer. "The dining room rarely gets any use. I'm not a dinner party kind of guy!" 

He smiled as he took her around the first floor, which also housed said dining room, an office and a powder room. Upstairs were two bedrooms, a den, and a surprisingly large bathroom, complete with separate tub and shower. The bedrooms were side by side, with the bathroom and den across from them.

He pulled her into the master bedroom, and watched her face as she took in the room where he slept each night, and where he spent so much of his time these days thinking of new ways to make her scream when she came for him.

"It's a nice room," she commented. "Very masculine. Your home doesn't look this big from the outside," she added.

"I also have a basement," he said, "but I'll save that experience for another time." 

There was an awkward pause, which Dawn broke. "Well, I'd better be going now, hadn't I?"

Scott walked over to stand in front of her, his eyes intent. He cupped her face in his hands, and demanded, "Is that what you want, Dawn?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Tell me honestly, please!"

Dawn shook her head, and kissed the cleft in his chin. "No, it's not what I want."

Scott's hands trembled on her face now, and he dropped them, not wanting to give away more than he should. "So tell me, then. I want to hear you say it. What do you want?"

She did not hesitate this time. "I believe I want you, Scott." A blush stained her cheeks, much to Scott's delight. 

He swooped and kissed her mouth again, pulling her over to the bed, where he pushed her gently down, not letting her up for air as he stretched her arms above her head. He lavished her breasts with the same careful attention that he had given to her mouth, but found he couldn't stay away from the plump sweetness of her lips. Again and again he returned to ravish her mouth, sliding his free hand over her hard nipples, which he could feel poking his palm through the double protection of her dress and bra. He shook with the desire to squeeze them, but wanted to do that when they were bare for his touch.

Her moans raised his blood pressure, and he rolled over her, grinding his erection between her legs, which she opened for him. He let go of her hands, and she promptly threw them around his neck, sliding her fingers through his hair, kissing him back with equal hunger, almost desperate, it felt to him, for his touch, for his possession. Her hips rolled and heaved under his, meeting his thrusts eagerly; she was apparently ravenous for him there as well.

"I want you to concentrate on me, baby. Okay? Just me. Not how old I am, not how old you are, not where we are, nothing. Just me. Think about how I make you feel. Enjoy what I'm going to do to you. Let go, for me. I won't hurt you. I'll just love you to a little death as often as you want me to. I promise!"

As he spoke, Scott had been divesting her of her clothes until by the time he whispered his promise to bring her to multiple orgasms, she was naked. He drank her in with his eyes, from her hair, now loosed from its careful upsweep, down the long column of her neck to her heavy breasts, listing to the sides, over the swell of her belly to her round, long legs. She lay like a decadent feast before his eyes. He knew she was still very shy; he could see her body flushing with his perusal. But he also knew she was fiercely aroused, which was why she lay still and let him look his fill, and why her mound was crowned with a landing strip of wet hairs, a few gray, that turned him on even more.

His cock jerked hard in his slacks when she moved her legs apart at his urging, and let her knee relax when he pushed it up, so he could see the swollen lips of her pussy. Want and need assailed him, and he went to his knees before her, and dropped his face onto her mound, inhaling deeply, and groaning.

"You're so fucking beautiful, baby!" he whispered. "And you smell so good!" He slid a finger through her curls, between the lips of her sex, and smiled when she groaned and lifted her hips to him. 




May to December Ch. 02



"You like that, baby?" he asked, and when she nodded, he did it again, loving the way she responded to his touch. "How about this?" he wondered then, and stroked her clit gently. Her back bowed off the bed and she hissed with pleasure. "Mmmmm! Do it again!" he commanded her, and fondled her clit again. She obeyed him, and reached down to hold his hand there, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed.

"I want you to look at me when I give you pleasure, Dawn!" he said, his tone harsh with lust. "Look at me!"

She dragged her eyes open and looked into his as he lowered his head and swiped his tongue through her wet slit from clitoris to anus. Her back bowed again, and he put a restraining hand on her belly to keep her face in sight. 

"Keep them open, baby!" he ordered her. "Let me see those pretty brown eyes as I eat you up!"

He kept his eyes on hers as he licked and suckled her, spearing her with his tongue, and thrusting in as far as he could go once, twice, again, before returning to suckling her clit and the lips of her sex. He could feel the tension growing in her, and knew she was headed for her first orgasm. He watched her eyes glaze over as he ate her, and when he suckled her pussy lips, slapped her clit, and stroked two fingers into her core, she arched off the bed, dislodging his restraining hand, and came with a loud cry, her legs shaking with reaction. And through it all, she had managed to keep her eyes open, staring into his. He felt his heart swell with pride, and when he saw the tears gather in hers, he reached up to wipe them away.

"Was that good, baby? Did you like that?" he asked, his voice hoarse with passion.

Dawn swallowed and nodded, unable to find her voice. She desperately wanted to look away from the hunger and passion in Scott's gaze, to get back some measure of control, but she couldn't deny him the small thing he asked in exchange for the first orgasm she had had in more years than she cared to count, and the best she had ever had. He was turning her whole world upside down, and she could not stop her body's mad rush for more. She wanted more of his mouth, more of his hands, more of his words, more of him, and she would do anything she could to get it before the doors closed on her and she was alone again.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Dawn," he informed her, slowly undressing before her hungry gaze. 

His body was strong and well-built, his six-pack reminding her of her flabby belly for a second before the sight of his erection robbed her of thought. He was very long and thick, and she wondered how she would get all that seductive length inside her. Because she admitted, as he lay next to her again, inserting two fingers into her wet heat, that she intended to swallow all of that wanton flesh in her pussy before she went home. She intended to take every bit of pleasure from his cock that she could get, everything he would let her take, everything she could handle.



May to December Ch. 03



She reached for him, needing to touch the prize she wanted, and for a minute he let her stroke and squeeze him before pulling away from her.

"No, love. Tonight is just for you. I only want to give you pleasure, to make you come, to make you happy."

"But what about you?" she wondered in a cracked voice. "I want to touch you, too."

"And I promise you next time you will, okay? But just let me be selfish tonight and enjoy making you come over and over. Please!"

He nudged her legs wider and sent three fingers up, opening her up, preparing her for his invasion. And while he finger fucked her, he speared her mouth with his tongue. She rolled her hips and moaned into his mouth as her passion rose again, and his fingers stroked that sweet spot inside her, leading her closer to the edge of bliss. She felt a fire raging out of control around the walls of her pussy, and felt them swell. She was so aroused, she could hardly think, and she was still trying to keep her eyes open so he could know how it felt to have his fingers sliding in and out of her, touching her g-spot, winding her up, burning her up with passion and desire. His fingers went faster and with his other hand, he stroked her clit and growled,

"Come for me again, baby! Come now!"

Dawn's hips rotated wildly as she came again, and he kept fucking her till the last spasm squeezed his fingers. 

"I can't wait any longer, Dawn!" he grunted, covering her body and thrusting his cock into her soaking depths. He seated himself till his balls touched her bottom, and then he didn't move. He waited, driving Dawn crazy. She twisted and rolled and heaved under him, feeling him jerk inside her. She growled when he still didn't move, and bit his nipple. He groaned, and pulled his cock almost all the way out. She protested when only the head remained inside her, and when he plunged back in, she squealed with delight. He withdrew again, teasing her, teasing himself, and thrust back in.

"Please, oh please, Scott..." she begged him.

"Please what, baby? Tell me!"

"Fuck me! Now!" She bit him again, completely out of control, and he growled and began a hard, deep, wild fucking, his hips rising and falling as he slammed her into the mattress. Their flesh slapped together, their hips joining with each thrust, their breaths coming in faster gasps. 

"Open your eyes, love. See who it is who's making love to you, who's showing you passion. Look at me while I gut you the way you're gutting me!" 

His voice was harsh with the strength of his emotions, and he fucked her harder, faster, wilder, making her feel him everywhere inside her. Her walls gripped him, feeling him jerk, feeling his head stroke her sweet spot, feeling the steel of him drill her and stroke her and burn her. His rod was so delicious, she could taste him, and she squeezed him hard each time he pulled back, welcoming him when he thrust in.

"Oh God, Dawn, look at me!" When Dawn dragged her eyes to his face, he groaned and bent his head to her mouth, kissing her wildly, eyes on hers, hips pumping her, hugging her close as he rode her. It felt so good, tears washed her eyes, and he licked them away, riding her faster and deeper.

"Come with me now, baby! Come now!" he growled, plunging into her soaking depths. She felt herself spilling cream around his pistoning shaft, and she fucked him back, wildly thrusting her hips against his, hungry for him more than she could explain. She ate his mouth, sucking on his tongue and making him groan. 

The orgasm rolled over them, swallowing them in its fire. They both cried out, gasping at the sunburst of feeling that welded them together, driving their hips to milk each other of every drop of cum. When the last waves subsided, Scott collapsed on top of her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him close, squeezing his cock inside her, still hungry, still aching, still needy. More tears slipped beneath her now lowered lashes. She knew she would never be the same again. He tried to roll off her, but she held him still, not wanting to break the physical connection, not wanting to let him out of her body.

"Stay with me, Scott, please!" she begged.

"Baby, I'll kill you," he answered her, laughing softly.

"Then kill me, but don't go, please!" She reached up to kiss his mouth, and rolled her hips, wishing she could wake him up. He wasn't totally dead, and she wanted to bring him back to hard, pulsing life inside her, so he could pleasure her again and again, and fuck her into mindless oblivion.

"I want you so badly, love," he said, resting his weight on his arms but staying between her legs, feeling his cock stir inside her. He bent to kiss her, and stroked her nipples as he sucked her tongue, winding her up again, and feeling himself harden as she gasped beneath his touch. He knew he could go longer this second time, and since he was already still half inside her, he let his erection grow while he attended to bringing her more pleasure.

He rolled with her so she was on top, and pulled her head down for another kiss before releasing her so he could suck her nipples into his mouth. Each little bud was licked, and suckled, and teased with sharp nips, before he slid back up to capture her lips again. And as he kissed and loved her breasts, his thumbs stroked her clit and fondled the lips of her sex, making her grind her hips against him, which only made him grow harder. 

"Feel good, baby?" he asked, stroking her clit faster.

"Oh...oh yes!" She could barely find breath to answer him. "Oh God, yessss!" She began to ride him, circling her hips over his raging-again erection, pumping him, raising and lowering her pussy over his swollen cock. The ache was exquisite, the pleasure extreme. They groaned into each other's mouths as she rode him, and when she tired, he grasped her hips and pulled her down to meet his thrusts up into the core of her. He rammed into her, and she slammed down on him, over and over, fucking like wild creatures who had not yet been sated.

"Fuck, yeah!" he cried as she sped up and wailed in an agony of pleasure, imploring him to make her come. They rode each other hard, mindless now except for the driving need to fall over the edge together. When the wave hit, Dawn screamed his name and fell over him, still riding him hard. Scott shouted his completion, fucking into her uncontrollably, gasping when the last jets of his semen shot into her convulsing vagina.

They held onto each other, trying to catch their breaths, sated and shocked at what had just happened. Dawn had come four times, and she still felt wide awake, the tingling in her pussy telling her she could go another round if Scott made her. Scott was without a doubt the best lover she had ever had, and she was afraid she would become addicted to his loving and not be able to let him go when he was ready to leave her. She held him to her a moment more, and then felt him move to her side, and draw her to spoon against his chest, his arm under her breasts a possessive weight.

"You okay?" Scott's voice was husky and warm with emotion. He kissed her damp temple, brushing the hair away from it.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered, smiling at how very okay she felt. She pushed away the troubling thoughts of a moment ago, and basked in the afterglow. "You?"

She felt his chuckle along her spine and smiled when he said, "Never better, baby!"

"We should take a shower," he said into the damp curls by her ears. "Come on, I'll get you started."

He pulled her up with him as he spoke and walked her to the bathroom. "You can use this towel and washrag. I just changed them this morning," he said, pointing to a deep red towel set on the rack. "I'll get you something to put on."

"Are you going to join me?" she asked, watching him from under lowered lashes.

Scott turned back to her, his cock at half-mast again, and said, "Since you ask so nicely, of course!" 

He smiled and walked away, leaving her to set the temperature and step in to soak away the soreness of the past hours' sexual excesses. Just when she was about to call out to him to ask what was the holdup, he pushed the door and stepped in behind her. Closing the door, he reached around her to hug her close, loving the weight of her breasts in his hands, the feel of her belly under his palm, the silky smoothness of her pussy lips under his fingertips.

"You're insatiable, aren't you?" she asked laughingly.

"For you, yes!" was his instant reply. "But I know you must be tired, and you've given your arm quite a workout tonight. So as your physician I must insist that you finish your shower, and get some sleep."

Without waiting for a reply, he soaped the cloth and washed her tenderly, not letting her do anything but wash her pussy, which was throbbing for need of him again. When she hissed as she washed it, he groaned and leaned in to steal a kiss. It was quick and deep and hot, and over much too soon, but he seemed determined not to take her again before she slept. When she went to take the rag from him to return the favor, he raised it above his head.

"No, baby! Not tonight. I'm serious that you need to sleep." She pouted and he smiled and sucked her lips into his mouth. "Go on, dry off. I've left you a T-shirt to put on. I'll be out in a jiffy, okay?"

He pushed her gently out of the shower stall and closed the door firmly between them, resisting the urge to palm his cock and relieve the ache building in it again. He had his woman now, and it would always be hers to relieve. He hurried through his shower and dried himself off, wrapping the towel around his middle and stalking back into his bedroom. Dawn was sitting up in bed, the clean sheet he had put on draped over her knees, reading the book he had on his side table. He snagged a pair of boxer briefs from his drawer and put them on before joining her on the bed.

"You have very interesting taste in reading," she said, smiling. "Are you done with this one?"

"No, but if you like what you've read, you need to start at the beginning, which is three books before this one. If you like, I can give you the first three to take home with you."

"I like," she said, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

"Time for bed, baby," he said, and pulled her down beside him before pulling the sheet up over them.

"You are something else, aren't you?" she mumbled sleepily. 

"Why do you say that?" he asked, looking down at her tired face.

"Stopping to change the bed linen. Which man does that?" She reached up to cup his cheek.

"Apparently this one does," he replied, turning his head to kiss her palm. "The sheets were wet with cum. I couldn't bring you back to soaked sheets, could I? You said you wanted to enjoy the evening thoroughly."

"And I have," she informed him on another yawn. 

"So do I get an encore?" he whispered against her lips.

"Mmmm..." She closed her eyes and drifted off. Scott curled around her and relaxed. For the first time that he could remember, he was completely at peace. He had wanted to make love with Dawn tonight, but he hadn't dared to hope that she would spend the night in his bed, sleeping in his T-shirt, with his arms wrapped around her. He would wake her again in the night, he knew it, but for now, he would let her sleep, get some of her strength back, because he meant to wear her out again by morning.

Dawn felt a rod of iron against her back and a hungry mouth on hers some time later. Hands roamed over her body -- where was the T-shirt she had gone to sleep in? -- squeezing her breasts and kneading her belly, fingers caressing her clit and probing her wet pussy. Hot breath warmed her neck, and soon her legs were pushed open so a hard, hot tongue could pierce her flesh and drink from her. Dawn moaned in pleasure, and writhed under Scott's wicked ministrations, feeling the passion rise inside her, wanting him as fiercely as she had before she fell asleep.

"I need you again, baby," he whispered against her mouth before taking it in a wild kiss, his thigh pushing between her legs, his rod sliding along its inner length. "Give me what I need!" 

Rising up without warning, he shoved her legs apart and thrust in, his hard cock finding home in the depths of her hot core. His lovemaking this time was without any restraints as he rammed her over and over, taking everything he could get, giving her his tongue and his cock and his whole being. He fucked her wildly, passionately, devouring her in his greed to have her completely. Dawn felt the intensity of his emotions as they rolled over her, and she let him have her body, holding nothing back from his hunger because she couldn't, and when he plunged them over into the abyss of pleasure, she screamed, and he swallowed it in his kiss.

He was shaking when he rolled off her, and she turned her body into his, hugging him to calm him, realizing that something was happening that she didn't understand, but that it was important.

"It's okay, Scott, it's okay. I'm here!" She whispered to him over and over till his breathing slowed and he held her in his arms.

"Thank you," he whispered back when he could speak. "I promise to be gentle next time, okay?" He hugged her tightly to his heart, kissing the top of her head. "Will you stay with me this weekend, Dawn? I can't let you go so soon. Please say you will."

Dawn wasn't sure why he sounded almost desperate, but she knew she wouldn't leave him feeling like that if she could help it. She had nowhere to go, and as long as she remembered to call Dana, no one to worry about.

"Okay, I'll stay with you."

She settled into his embrace, listening to his heartbeat, letting its steady rhythm lull her back to sleep. The next time she woke up, she was alone in bed, and music was filtering in through the open bedroom door. She was naked, and she looked around for the T-shirt Scott had given her to sleep in, but before she could drag it over her head, he was back, his boxer brief doing nothing to disguise his morning wood.

"Ready to shower?" he wanted to know, smiling down at her.

"Uh...sure," she stammered, unable to take her eyes off his cock. She felt like a teenager on her first morning after, and she ducked her head as she got out of bed, dragging the sheet with her to wrap around her nakedness. Her body in the light of day was not a sight she wished on her worst enemy.

Scott stopped her in mid stride, and turned her to face him. 

"Why?" he asked. "After all we shared last night, why are you still hiding from me?"

When she kept her eyes lowered, Scott put his finger under her chin and raised her face. 

"Look at me, Dawn." Then he waited till she complied. "Now, tell me why."

"Daylight and I don't do well together when I'm...not dressed," she said at last, trying to sound casual and failing utterly. She lowered her eyes and tried to step past him, but he held her there, his arms stealing around her to hold her close to his heart.

"Is it so bad, your body? Will it blind me if I see it in daylight?" He was smiling, trying to lighten the mood.

"It's not funny, Scott!" she snapped, squirming to escape his hold.

"I'm not laughing, Dawn!" he retorted. "But don't you think it's silly to hide your body from me now, after what you let me do with it and to it last night and this morning?" He moved away an inch so he could pull her chin up and look into her eyes again. "Your body is soft and sexy and so seductive, it ties me up in knots just thinking about it. Seeing it last night was a dream come true for me. Don't hide it from me, baby, okay? I love your body. I love looking at it and touching it. I love making it tremble and heat up and fall apart for me."

He let her go and stepped away, and looked at her with an emotion she knew he could not already be feeling -- it was impossible, it was too soon! -- and said,

"Drop the sheet, baby!"

Dawn's nipples peaked, and she could feel her whole body flush with color as she reluctantly released the sheet and let it fall. She fought to keep her hands at her sides, but hung her head, unable to meet his direct and heated gaze. She waited for the rejection...he might think he didn't mind, but when he saw her in all her middle-aged glory, he'd run a mile. She was convinced of it. No young man in his prime wanted a heavy woman on his arm, especially not one as sexy and handsome as Scott was.

The silence was unnerving, but she refused to move. Truth be told, though, she was rooted to the spot by her embarrassment, and couldn't move, even if she wanted to. Which only made her humiliation worse. When he still hadn't spoken after an agonizing minute, she stole a look and found...nothing. He had moved, behind her as she realized when his hands went around her, cupping her heavy breasts, as he nuzzled her neck and whispered,

"You're so fucking sexy, if I hug you from the front, I'll end up taking you right here, right now, no foreplay, no tenderness, no seduction. You're driving me insane, baby!"

He pressed his erection against her bottom, and hissed when she returned the favor. "Let's go shower, love!"

They struggled to keep their hands off each other, but could not quite manage to avoid the soul-stealing kisses that left Scott painfully erect. Dawn saw how he held himself and knew he needed relief, and she also knew instinctively that he would not take her again so soon. He was being considerate again, something she was discovering was part of who he was, and she decided she would give him back some small measure of the pleasure he had given her all night.

Reaching down, she grasped his cock and held him for a moment, not moving, just looking into his eyes and smiling. He held his breath, fighting for control, and she made up her mind to make him lose it, as he had done her. She began to stroke him, long, slow strokes from his balls to the top, circling him on every downward stroke. After a few of those, she began to pump him with one hand, while manipulating his balls with the other. His leg muscles tightened, and she increased the intensity of her strokes. Then, taking them both by surprise, she knelt before him and took the head into her mouth. Scott groaned and leaned against the shower wall, his hands splayed on the tiles at his sides, the knuckles white with tension.

Dawn suckled the head of his cock, tasting the drop of semen that pooled at its tip. She slid her tongue along the slit and was rewarded with another burst of precum. She savored it, humming her enjoyment, and feeling his legs begin to tremble under her hands as he struggled for control. She smiled and took him in as far as she could, holding him in place within the circle of her fingers and licking him with every upward stroke of her mouth over him. He let go of the wall suddenly, and cupped her head in his hands, pulling her into his body, fucking her mouth helplessly, speeding up when she licked the underside, and when she returned to caressing his balls, they tightened, warning her he was close to orgasm. She resisted his hands, and suckled the head of his cock, making him growl, and when she hummed around him, letting her tongue slide under the rim to that most sensitive spot below, Scott howled as he came, flooding her mouth with his cum.

Dawn let him fuck her mouth till he was spent, letting his cum spill down the sides of her mouth. He shook with the power of the orgasm, and leaned against the wall, exhausted. She licked him clean, and rose to her feet to smile at him.

"Better now?" she asked, reaching up to kiss his mouth. 

He took the gift of her tongue and devoured her, raising her hips to cradle his still semi-erect cock and rubbing her against him. He didn't let her go, even as his cock came roaring back to full life, and when he urged her to raise her legs, she was soaking and ready for him. He raised her and lowered her over his penis, and pumped into her wildly, fucking her fast and hard and deep, pushing her up and over the edge, showing her no mercy, until she crashed down around him, crying out his name as she came. He couldn't seem to stop, even when Dawn just clung to him, letting him carry her weight, his passion pushing him to an almost painful climax. His shout was probably heard around the neighborhood.




May to December Ch. 03



He let her legs side down to the wet floor of the shower, and pulled her into his body, his breathing hard, his heart racing. His kisses became tender, treasuring her, showing her how he felt about her, telling her without words how he loved what she had done for him.

"Dawn, I..." She put a hand over his mouth, halting his words.

"You're welcome," she said, forcing a smile. She didn't want him to say anything she wasn't prepared to hear.

He rinsed her tenderly, and as he was drying her, he pointed out the sweat pants and T-shirt he had ready for her. While she dressed, he dried himself, and pulled on his own sweats and tee. 

"Here's a toothbrush, and a comb and brush. I'll be in the kitchen when you're done." 

He dropped a kiss on her forehead and walked out of the steamy bathroom, leaving her to sort out her conflicted emotions. He was fast becoming more important to her than she had expected or even thought he would be, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. The sexual marathon she had spent the last twelve hours enjoying was more sensual exposure than she had ever had with a man she barely knew, and it had been more intense than anything she had ever had, even with Hunter in the early days. She wasn't sure how to process that, or how to respond to it, and she suspected that Scott knew what she had done in stopping him from speaking, and was giving her some much-needed breathing room.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, when she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later. He was busy at the stove, and she noted that he had laid the table for two, and that a few sprigs of yellow, peach and red roses graced a tall bud vase in the center. 

"Ravenous," she admitted, wondering when he had gone out to shop for flowers. The smell of bacon and sausages made her mouth water, but she didn't see a frying pan on the stove. 

"I do instant coffee," he said apologetically. "Never learned to use a coffee maker, and don't usually have time to fiddle with it. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine," she said, smiling. "I love coffee, however it's made!" 

"I have French vanilla, hazelnut, and plain. Which would you like?"

Dawn smiled again. "Hazelnut, please!"

She watched him pour four heaping teaspoons of instant coffee into a silver pot, add hot water and bring it to the table. 

"Please pour while I bring breakfast," he asked, and turned away to open the oven. The delicious scent of breakfast meats wafted out, along with the smell of fresh biscuits. He put the trays on the stovetop, and served her plate and his, adding scrambled eggs, which he had kept warming.

"Help yourself to biscuits," he invited her, and added cream to his coffee, taking a hearty sip before beginning to eat.

Dawn watched in amusement as he devoured his first sausage link and a biscuit, and realized that he had expended more energy from their sexual excesses than she had, and he must also be ravenous.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you?" she commented before tasting his eggs. They were creamy and delicious.

Scott chuckled softly. "I wish I could take the credit for this, but my mum comes over every weekend with breakfast and dinner fixings for the weekend, because she knows that's when I usually have time off, enough to linger over real food."

Dawn choked, and he tapped her back gently. "What?"

"Your mom was here? This morning?" She sipped her coffee to dislodge the rest of the food from her throat.

Scott laughed, noting her flushed cheeks. "Don't worry. She never comes into my bedroom, so she doesn't know who my companion is."

Dawn remained quiet, thinking about how awkward it would be for her to meet Scott's mother, who might only be a few years older than she was. She tried to ignore the unease that crept into her heart, making her shoulders stiffen, and asked,

"So what did YOU make?"

"I put the bacon and sausages into a hot oven, just as she instructed, and the biscuits in the last few minutes to reheat. I follow directions really well!" He grinned at her.

"And the flowers?"

"I called yesterday before I left and asked her to bring me some fresh cut blooms with breakfast."

"So she knew you had company!" Her voice held accusation and outrage.

"I suppose so. I wasn't hiding it. What does it matter?" He was unrepentant.

Dawn remained silent, knowing she was making a mountain out of a molehill, and knowing it was a defense strategy, as she felt herself losing her grip on her control. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look up, concentrating on eating the food he had put on her plate. The silence became strained, at least to her mind, and when she finally gave in and looked up, Scott was watching her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Are you ready to talk to me now?" he asked, his mouth set in a hard line.

"There's nothing to say, is there?" She was suddenly not up to the task of sparring with Scott, who appeared to be ready to do battle with her. She always seemed to be the one withdrawing, and she knew that after last night, after this morning, she had to find a new way to respond to him. Withdrawing was no longer a viable option.

"Why did you stop me this morning in the shower?" he asked, surprising her, and making her uncomfortable at the same time. Before she could open her mouth to stall, he added, "And please don't lie to me. You know what I'm talking about."

Dawn simmered, wishing she could be angry with him, and irritated that she couldn't be. "I wasn't ready to hear what I thought you were going to say," she confessed, miffed that he was making her face the truth.

"And now? Are you ready now?" He didn't pretend not to know what she meant.

She shook her head, suddenly unable to speak. 

"Why not?" He was unrelenting, his tone hard.

"It's too soon, Scott. We hardly know each other. And no matter what you say, the age difference between us is significant." She stood up suddenly, unable to sit still a moment more, and walked over to the doors that led out to a small porch. She unlatched it and slid it far enough aside so she could slip out into the morning air. She knew he would follow her, and when his hands descended on her shoulders, she struggled to keep from leaning against him.

"I'm thirty-five years old, Dawn. Don't you think I know by now what's good for me, what I need to make me happy? Don't you think I can take care of myself and any woman I choose?"

"It's not your problem, Scott, it's mine," she demurred, and he turned her to face him, shaking his head at her.

"That's where you're wrong, Dawn. It's OUR problem! I told you before. I'm not going anywhere, so you'd best get used to the idea." He shook her gently. "Stop trying to keep me out, baby. Every time we turn a new corner, you try to run away, but I'm giving you fair warning. I won't let you escape me. Stop throwing up roadblocks. Help me make this work, honey. Please!"

Dawn's eyes mirrored her need to let go, and her need to protect herself. She saw the determination to force her to face everything with him, and knew he would finish what he had started to say earlier now that he had broken down her defenses again.

"I've fallen for you, Dawn. Hard. I was already halfway there before we ever met, and now, after getting to know you a bit, I can't help the way I feel. I think about you every waking minute, and even at work, when I must focus on the patients, you're there, in the background of my thoughts. I go to bed hard for you, and wake up aching. I want to know you in every way, not just sexually. I want to be the one man you can count on to be there, to be with you, to care for you better than anyone else ever will. I want Jeff and Dana and everyone else to know you're mine, and they don't need to take care of you anymore, because I will."

Dawn smiled tentatively, not wanting to offend him. "I'm not a baby, you know!" she protested.

"You're MY baby!" he insisted. "But I need you to admit it freely, and let yourself feel something for me in return."

His face was unsmiling. He was deadly serious, and her smile faded. "I do feel something for you, Scott," she said, "and it scares me."

"Stay with me, and I promise your fear will go away, honey. I'll prove myself to you."

Dawn saw the look in his eyes, and knew there was nothing she could say or do to change his mind. And she realized, in the part of her heart that she kept running away from, that she didn't want to change his mind. She wanted to be cherished and loved, and she wanted to give her heart freely to someone she could trust. Maybe she had finally found that someone...

"Come back inside with me. Let's cuddle and listen to some music. Or watch a movie. Whatever you feel like doing." He pressed tender lips to hers before shepherding her back indoors.

"What do you normally do on a Saturday morning when you wake up?" she asked as they walked back into the house, wanting to know his ways, see him in his natural habitat.

"You mean after I do my chores?" he returned, a gleam in his eyes.

"Chores? You have chores?" she chuckled.

"What? D'you think my mother cleans and does my laundry and my shopping for me?" She tried not to smile at his outrage. "Don't get offended. I wasn't saying any such thing!" She went back to the table and began to clear it. "I'll tidy the kitchen, shall I? You choose the chore you'll do while I get this done."

Without waiting for a response, she scraped plates and washed and stacked dishes and wiped down the counter and table. She searched till she found the drawer where he kept his place mats, found a broom and swept the floor, and when she was done, she went in search of Scott. She found him putting the last few clothes in the washing machine in his basement, and she looked around her. The space was large, and he had divided it into four specific rooms -- the laundry and the boiler room, both small and compact, a room that looked like a bedroom with two walls lined with books, and a den, the largest room, with a wide-screened television, a wide leather couch, and a pool table.

"Do you spend a lot of time down here?" she asked, wandering into the bedroom/library.

"Aside from the laundry, and the bedroom library, I'm only down here when my friends come over, or my family comes for dinner and I need to escape." He smiled at her as she led her to a shelf against the far wall of the library. "The books you want are here," he added, and took three from a shelf. "These are the ones I promised you."

"I have a Kindle," she said, taking them from him. "If I like them, I'll see if I can get them on it."

"I like to feel the paper between my fingers," he told her, drawing his fingers across the spines of a few of the books on the shelf. I like the smell of a book. I like the decorations on them. I love the illustrations in children's books. I love books." 

Dawn reached over and touched his hand, feeling the warmth and strength seep into her pores. "Maybe when we're done with chores, we can sit down here and you can share some of your children's books with me?"

Scott raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, letting her see his feelings in the eyes he turned to her.

"Anything you want is yours," he replied, and then reached over to steal another kiss from her mouth. "You turn me inside out," he confessed, deepening the kiss, pulling her fully into his arms, suddenly hungry for her again, as though he hadn't had a feast of her all night.

"Scott..." Dawn wasn't sure what she wanted to say, but the moment seemed to call for words. She knew she was falling in love with this man whom she hadn't known a month ago, and it frightened her, but she was determined to try to get past her fear and mistrust. 

"Let's finish chores first, hmmm?"

Scott pulled an inch away from her and smirked. "You're not my mother," he said, "and if I choose to, I can end chore time now in favor of play time!"

"I don't want to be your mother," she purred, feeling the heat of his erection on her mound. "She can't enjoy you like I can." 

She smiled at him, a sexy, turned-on smile that had him seeking the heat of her mouth again, slanting his lips over hers greedily, suckling her tongue and her lips, ravenous for her. He wanted to take her to the carpeted floor and fuck her blind, but he knew she was still struggling with her feelings for him, and he didn't want to give her any reason to run again. He managed to rein in his lust, which had been out of control since he had read her first story, and back away from her. 

"We can check out some of my favorite books while we wait for the load to finish," he said, and turned to pull a few gaily-colored books from a lower shelf. Taking her hand, he went to sit in the armchair by the window through which she could see a pool, a tennis court and lawns.

"I didn't realize this was a walk-out basement," she remarked. "I prefer this kind. I hate the ones where you can't get out unless you go back to the first floor, or else crawl though a hatch like a thief. They are claustrophobic!"

Scott settled her on his lap and began to tell her about his favorite children's books. He loved how she listened as he told her who had given him each book, or why he had gone out and bought it. She paid attention to him, asking questions that showed her interest in his stories, in him. Neither of them noticed when the washing machine beeped, indicating the cycle was complete.

"How did you manage to get into so much trouble with all the books you had?" she asked, laughing at his latest tale of mischief.

"I was a boy. What do you think?" He laughed and put the last book on the table beside the chair he sat with her in. "My dad was a tough Scotsman, but I think he understood me because he had been just like me. So his justice was tempered with mercy."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he didn't whip me to within an inch of my life, or disown me!" He chuckled as he spoke, and Dawn could see the affection he felt for his father in his eyes as he looked at her. "I think my clothes are ready for the dryer."

He stood up, putting her away from him as he went to load the dryer, and then he invited her upstairs to the living room.

"I'll be right with you," he said, and turned back to the kitchen. When he reappeared, he was carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. He put them on the coffee table, and poured for both of them. Handing her a glass, he said,

"Thanks for staying with me this weekend, baby. This is the best date I've ever been on!"

Dawn grinned at him and sipped her drink, watching as he went to start some music going. She let the symphonic sounds wash over her, feeling relaxed and at peace for the first time in a long while. When he came back, she scooted over so he could sit beside her, and when he put his arm around her shoulder, she lay her head against it.

"Would you like to go out for dinner again this evening?" he asked, smoothing her hair.

"No. I'd rather stay in. We've spent a lot of time..." She paused, then began again. "We need to get to know each other better, don't you think?" She turned her head up to look at him, and he lowered his head and kissed her lips.

"Yes, we should!" His smile was sinful, and he waggled his brows at her mischievously as he pulled her face round so he could kiss her again, more deeply, with tongue.

"I didn't mean that!" she protested, trying to sit up, but he refused to let her go, pulling her all the way onto his lap and holding her there, her face inches from his. 

"I want to know everything about your body, what makes you moan and sigh and purr, what makes you go up in flames and melt for me. And I want you to know that about me, too." 

He kissed her again, deliberately ravishing her with his tongue and lips, trailing kisses from her cheeks down the sides of her neck to her throat, to the swell of her breasts and back to her swollen mouth. His kisses were electric, shocking them, raising the heat between them, drawing the lust between them out to surround them and wrap them in passionate intensity.

"Scott, please...I'm serious!"

"So am I," he retorted, sliding a hand under her breast and squeezing gently.

"We can't spend the whole weekend having sex, Scott!" she protested again.

"Why not?" he demanded, caressing a nipple between trembling fingers. "I've gone without for far too long already. Just making up for lost time." Dawn gasped as he suckled her nipple through the cloth of the T-shirt, and swallowed before returning to her attempts to maintain some sanity. 

"What will you do when the lust burns out, and you see me as I really am, and not with lust-glazed eyes?" She struggled to keep from moaning as he assaulted her senses with his hungry mouth.

"It's more than lust, baby," he whispered, fondling her now wet right nipple as he suckled her left one.

"What more is it? And how can you be so sure?" She could feel her temperature rising, and when he suddenly pulled the T-shirt up and over her head, she wondered if he knew.

"If it were lust, it would have fizzled out by now, but it hasn't," he argued, barely taking his mouth from her naked breasts.

"Maybe you're just reacting to the excitement of the chase!" she countered, moaning uncontrollably now as he laved her breasts with his tongue, and delivered erotic love bites to her aching nipples.

"I can feel it, baby. I can feel that it's more than lust. I want to spend time with you, talking about anything and everything. I think about you all the time."

Dawn had to admit that she had fallen into that same habit herself, that Scott was always on her mind. She wasn't about to share that bit of information with him, though, at least not for now. But it made her weak inside to know he was in the same condition. She arched her throat when his mouth rode up to taste her there, wishing she had some deeper reserve of strength to withstand his sensual onslaught.

"Scott, please..." She found herself almost incoherent, a condition she seemed to sink into around him more than she liked. This was the twenty-first century, and she was a very modern woman who did not swoon when seduced, who in fact was never seduced without her express permission.

"Stop thinking so much, baby, and just let me have my way with you, hmmm?" Scott's voice held a teasing note, but Dawn knew he meant every word.

She gave in, smiling at his tone and letting him own her mouth. His kisses were increasingly hungry, his hands roaming everywhere before he picked her up.

"Scott, put me down this instant!" she squealed, struggling to get out of his arms. She knew she was no lightweight, and she was embarrassed that he was being so valiant when she must be making him sweat.

"Why? I will not take the chance that my mother forgot her favorite pan and comes back to find me balls deep inside you on my living room floor!" He was laughing as he strode with her to the stairs.

"I'm too heavy for you!" she protested, blushing furiously.

"Did I say that?" he asked, climbing the stairs. "Stop squirming, or I'll forget to be gallant and take you on the stairs!"

"You call struggling up the stairs with a whale of a woman being gallant?"

Scott stalled on the stairs, and put her down. She hazarded a look at his face, and what she saw made her cringe. He was furious.

"If you didn't want me to make love to you, all you had to do was say so, you know!"

Dawn was stunned. He was so angry, his cheeks were flushed.

"That wasn't..."

"Why do you persist in throwing up roadblocks between us? Haven't I told you that I find you incredibly sexy? Why won't you believe me?"

He reached for her hand and dragged her closer, draping her open palm over his erection. His cock jerked when she touched him, and he kept her hand there, while with his other hand he forced her chin up so her eyes met his stormy gaze.




May to December Ch. 03



"D'you think this hard-on is for someone I think of as a 'whale of a woman'? Do you?" 

He was almost shouting, and Dawn realized with increasing shock that he was angry with her for what she had said about herself. No one, other than Hunter, had ever made her feel the way he was doing as he held her hand over his steel-hard rod and bent his head to punish her with a kiss. She opened her mouth to receive him, suddenly melting so he had to support her with his arm around her as her knees gave out.

"Dawn, please, for God's sake give us a chance! Please!" He whispered the plea against her lips before picking her up again and taking her back to his bedroom, where he made hard, wild love to her, showing her with every deep thrust and every wet kiss how much he was coming to feel for her.



May to December Ch. 04



Later that evening, after they had eaten the lasagna his mother had brought, with salad that Dawn prepared and the rest of the wine from the evening before, he sat with her in his favorite armchair in the living room listening to his favorite Chopin pieces. They talked about everything, from the boys' schools he was sent to, to his stint in the army, where he decided he wanted to become a doctor, to his years of medical school. They talked about his desire to work for the good of mankind, about the missed opportunity to do a stint in the Doctors Without Borders program, about his dream of opening a free clinic in his native land for the homeless. They talked about his dream of becoming a surgeon, though he hadn't yet decided which area he would most prefer to work in.

"You've led a very interesting life for such a young man," she commented. "I'm impressed!" She dared to kiss his cheek, and Scott turned his head so their lips met.

"You move me so easily," he remarked, trailing his lips across her cheek to her ear, where he nipped the lobe lovingly. He returned to her mouth, kissing her deeply, the heat between them building again as though they hadn't slaked their thirst for each other earlier.

"Let's go back to bed," she whispered, and stood up, holding her hand out to him. She wanted him to see she was trying to meet him halfway, to remove the roadblocks, as he had called them, that stood between them.

Scott took her hand and walked with her upstairs, closing the door quietly behind him. He switched on a lamp, and then turned to her, determined to test her newfound confidence.

"Undress, baby. I want to see you!"

Dawn struggled with her innate shyness and lack of confidence and stripped the T-shirt and sweat pants from her body. She was naked underneath, and she realized he had not paid attention to that fact till that moment. His eyes widened, and his nostrils flared, as though he were a wildcat scenting the air for prey. She watched him clench his fists as he remained where he was, just drinking her in with his eyes. She could feel her body flushing from his unwavering scrutiny, and she bit her lip, struggling to keep from using her arms to cover herself.

"You're so damned sexy, baby!" he said finally, reaching for her and enveloping her in a tight hug, pressing his jeans-clad erection against her naked mound, holding her bottom in his hands and pulling her into him.

Instead of the denial she would normally have voiced, Dawn whispered, "Thank you!" and kissed his lips, a fleeting caress that he deepened, demanding entry to her hot mouth and devouring her. 

"I want you all over again, baby!" he said, releasing her. "Help me undress so I can have you." 

He hissed when she reached for the waistband of his sweats and her fingers brushed the skin above it. They had him naked in under a minute, and both fell back to the bed, where he straddled her, kissing her from her eyelids down to the lush mounds of her breasts. His mouth was hot with need, and she arched beneath him, moaning at the pleasure of his mouth on her.

"Let me love you now, baby," he begged her, and spread her legs so he could push into her. 

She groaned as she raised her hips to let him in, and then she threw her legs around his waist and gave him back thrust for thrust, matching his hunger with her own, giving up her whole self to him. Their orgasm this time was long and sweet, and neither knew when the other fell asleep, but Scott woke first, enjoying the feel of the warm woman wrapped around him, before untangling himself from her sated body. He went to answer nature's call, and returned to find her rolled on her side, waiting for him.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice still husky with sleep.

He glanced at the luminous face of the clock. "Almost five," he answered, and crawled back into bed beside her. He drew her warm body up against his, her back to his chest, his semi-erect cock between her cheeks. "Still sleepy?" he wondered, letting his hands roam over her flesh tenderly.

"A bit, yes," she answered, a smile creasing her cheeks. "You can't still be..."

"I told you, it's been a while for me," he replied, sliding his fingers between the lips of her sex. "I won't do any more than this, I promise, okay? Just let me enjoy touching you."

Dawn relaxed, and tried to settle herself back for another nap, but Scott's hands on her clit and in her clenching vagina made that impossible. He was not doing more than fondling her and laying feather-light kisses on her face, neck and shoulders, but she was soon wound so tight she thought she might burst.

"Scott, please!" she begged him at last.

"Please? What do you need from me? Tell me!" His voice was hoarse, a sure sign that he was not immune to what he was doing any more than she was.

"Stop teasing me!" she exclaimed.

"Teasing? I'm in deadly earnest, honey." He bent his head and kissed her lips lightly, swiping his tongue across them before going back to plunging his fingers inside her.

"Oh...oh God! Scott, please!" she groaned as he drove her closer to the edge. "Please take me!"

He inhaled deeply, a shuddering breath, and lowered his head to suck on a nipple. "How do you want it this time, baby? Hard and fast, or slow and easy?" His cock was a rod of iron behind her, leaking precum, ready to do as she bid.

"I don't care, just do it!" she hissed, rolling her hips as he finger-fucked her.

Scott lifted her leg and pushed inside her, suddenly unable to hold on to the careful control he had been exercising so far. He had not meant to take her again so soon, but her passion called to him, and he was powerless to refuse her anything she wanted. He fucked her hard, deep, fast, and they both crashed in burning flames of desire and emotion. They lay together, his leg between hers, out of breath, reaching for control. Neither could deny that they were forging ties they could not break without hurting the other.

"Sleep now, honey!" he said at last, his voice low, and he felt her body grow heavy against him. He knew he would not sleep again, so he just lay there and let her steal his heart completely. He had known her less than a month, and he knew there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep her. She was his – his dream woman, the one he had been waiting for all his life. He just needed to get her to see what he saw when he looked at her. He just needed to get her to trust him, to know that he would never do anything to hurt her, that she was the center of his attention. He knew he would always want her body, that even the thought of her would arouse him, but he wanted her to know she was more than just a means to slake his insatiable appetite for sensual pleasure.

He waited till she was sleeping again, and then slipped out of bed and went to take a long, hot shower. After dressing in faded jeans and a ripped old tee, he went downstairs to see about breakfast for them. He felt a deep contentment as he pottered around in his kitchen, and when he heard her showering, he smiled at the memory of the shower they had shared. His body stirred, but he ruthlessly suppressed it, knowing she would likely be sore. He had all the time in the world to make love to her, as he intended to become a permanent feature in her life.

He went quietly up the stairs, breakfast for two on the tray he carried, and walked into his bedroom to find her bent over, rubbing lotion into her skin. His cock jerked, and he grimaced. He would not take her again. She needed space. So did he. He could do this. He said good morning in a soft voice, so as not to startle her, but she swung round anyway, her eyes wide and wary, and he saw her grab the bra on the chair and turn away to put it on. Her breasts were a temptation he could barely resist, so he let it slide, grateful to her for helping him keep his unspoken word to give her some room.

"I brought you breakfast," he said quietly. "Why don't you get back into bed, so I can treat you like a princess this morning, hmmm?"

Dawn smiled at him tentatively, and replied, "Why don't I just sit in the chair, and you can give it to me there? Or, even better, why don't we go back downstairs and eat in the kitchen?" She reached for her dress as she spoke, and pulled it over her head.

Scott waited till she had smoothed it down her legs before asking, "Leaving without your panties, Dawn?"

She blushed furiously, and he set the tray down, and went to hold her steady while he kissed her hard, punishingly. She struggled against his hold for as long as it took her to feel the way his body was hardening against her, and then she answered his hunger with her own, surrendering to his dominance.

"You keep pushing me, baby, and testing me. When are you going to stop? Or is this your way of asking me for more? Hmmm? Maybe you want me to get a bit more physical with you? You want me to spank you? Hmmm?"

Scott's voice was so hoarse it was almost a growl. He couldn't stem the tide of emotion that had him hauling her up against his chest and palming her bottom, smacking her twice, hard, and loving the way she moaned, as though she liked it. Her body jerked against his, and he groaned and smacked her again, and then let her go.

"Breakfast is served!"

He watched her sit gingerly on the chair, and spared a moment to hope he hadn't really hurt her, and then he served her toast and hardboiled eggs, with butter and jam, mango slices, and orange juice.

"I'll get the coffee now," he announced, and left her to eat in peace.

He was so hard he ached, and he waited till his body cooled before taking the coffee pot and mugs back upstairs. She had eaten all the mango slices he had given her, and the eggs, and was sipping the juice when he walked in.

"Thanks for breakfast, Scott," she said, smiling at him with heat in her eyes as she watched him.

"You're welcome!" He snagged an egg and ate it, avoiding her eyes for the first time, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist the invitation in them. He sat cross-legged on the floor beside the chair. "No toast?" he wondered.

"I like to dunk my toast in my coffee," she answered, smiling shyly, and he chuckled.

"No jam, then, I'm guessing," he said, and smiled when she shook her head. 

They ate in companionable silence, and when the tray was empty, and they were on their second cup of coffee, she asked him what his plans were for the day. He looked up then, right into her eyes, and watched the heat steal over her features. 

"You know what they are," he replied. "But you seem to have other ideas. Let's hear them." 

"We could talk..."

He interrupted her. "We have talked...about me. You ready to talk about yourself?"

Dawn stared at him before replying, aware that she had left herself open to that response, and recognizing that it was only fair that she should be forthcoming about herself, as he had been.

"We can do that, if you like," she conceded with a small smile. 

He stood up, unsmiling, and took the tray with all the breakfast things downstairs. Dawn followed him, uncertain of his mood, and watched him deal with the dishes. When he was done, he turned to her, his eyes unreadable.

"Where do you want to sit?" His question and demeanor were cool. Dawn bristled, and found herself thinking that she should have known better than to expect maturity from a child. She was a heartbeat away from expressing the sentiment aloud, but something made her bite her tongue. Instead she turned and walked away to the doors that led out to the patio. At that moment, the last thing she wanted was to be close to him.

"Out here is fine," she said, and stepped through them, seating herself as far from the other chair as she could. She looked out over the balcony rail to the pool below. A lone swimmer was doing laps, and she watched him, her back tense. She heard him move the chair, and turned to find him next to her, his eyes on her averted face.

"What did I do this time?" he asked, his face still serious. He had a resigned air about him, as though he had given up trying to understand her.

"If I thought for a second that all you wanted me for was a roll in the hay all weekend, I'd need to leave now, Scott!" she said sharply. "I'm not an easy lay, whatever my behavior this weekend has led you to believe!"

Dawn tried to keep the hurt out of her voice, and failed dismally. Scott stared at her for a long moment without replying, struggling not to touch her, because he could feel the waves of anger and hurt rolling off her.

"I hope I haven't given you the impression that all I needed was hole to relieve myself in, Dawn," he said bluntly, dismayed at her words. "And if I did, I'm sorry." He sighed, and raised his hands helplessly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we went too fast." He stood quietly, and turned away, saying as he went back inside, "I'll take you home whenever you're ready."

He disappeared down the hallway, and Dawn sat in shock, watching him leave, not knowing how to salvage the day. She hadn't meant to turn him away, just to make him understand how she felt. He didn't seem angry, which upset her even more, and she didn't understand her own reactions to him. She hurried after him, and stopped him as he reached the top of the stairs.

"Scott, please, come down again. We need to talk about this. Please!" She waited, her breath caught in her throat, watching him as he stared down at her. When he turned and walked back down the stairs, she let out a breath and slumped against the banister. Her legs gave way – she hadn't realized till then how weak it made her feel to think he would let her go – and she sank onto the second tread of the stairs. Scott sat one tread above her, his feet on the tread she sat on, his hands hanging between his knees, waiting for her to speak.

"I've had a few unhappy relationships with men, Scott. One of them was a married one." She felt his eyes on her when she said that, and looked up to see them burning at her. "I was a late bloomer among my peers. If you discount the fact that I was raped when I was ten years old by a boy from a neighbor's family, I didn't have sex until I was twenty-four years old. It wasn't a particularly happy experience, though obviously that made it memorable. It hurt to be deflowered again, and there was no pleasure after to make it worth my while. I stayed away from men for a while after that, especially when it became clear that he was more interested in my vagina than in me."

"Dawn, I..." Scott began, but she stopped him.

"No, I know. I'm sorry I made you think that I was accusing you of that. It's just that since Friday night, we've spent more time attached to each other than we have apart, and I was scared. I can't go back to those days, Scott. I won't. I am a woman in my prime, with the years and the experience to know what I want. And what I want is more than just hot sex."

Scott reached out and stroked her hair, then bent his head and kissed the top of hers. "Okay," was all he said, and then he waited for her to continue. He noted that she didn't talk about the rape, and he decided that he had probably better not ask. But it burned his gut to know that she had been violated as a defenseless child. He struggled to keep the tension from showing in the hand stroking her hair.

"I had three other relationships before Hunter, none of which did much for me aside from occasionally giving me a companion at social events. They were nice enough guys, but I didn't love them, and after a while, the novelty wore off. They may have been great lovers for other women before me, but they did nothing for me. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of orgasms I had with any one of them. We drifted apart each time, in the last case because I went by to visit him and found him in bed, literally, with a girl younger than me, and much more acrobatically inclined than I was. I realized that I was happy with the way things went. Then Hunter came back."

"The one you married?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean he came back?"

"Hunter and I had known each other since we were kids. He had been my first, 'boyfriend', my first date, my first kiss. He was two years younger than me, but he had always pursued me, and by the time I began working on my Masters degree, he was more interesting than any man I had encountered to that point. He had enlisted in the Marines, and done his stint, and was back to finish his college degree. He was intelligent, handsome, sexy, attentive – everything a girl could want in a guy."

Dawn felt a subtle shift in the air and looked up to see Scott watching her with a dark expression on his face, his shoulders stiff, his hands tense on his knees.

"He's dead, Scott. He's not your rival!" She saw the shock in his eyes, and added, "He was my best friend, even after the divorce, and when he died, I was devastated."

She felt Scott's hands on her shoulders, pouring comfort into the light massage of them that he began. She eased back, and rested her spine against his leg. 

"We should never have gotten married," she continued. "We loved each other dearly, and always had, but after the first few years, we both knew it had been a mistake. The sex was always missing something that neither of us could name, and when he met Cindy and fell for her, our lives changed forever. I was miserable, he was miserable, she was miserable. He told me about her, and how he felt, on the same night he left with her. They had apparently talked it over, and decided that that was the best thing to do. His suitcases were packed, and he just walked out to her car and left. His car was in the shop, and that was the reason she was there."

Even now, talking about it hurt. Dawn rubbed a hand over her chest absently, unaware that she was trying to soothe the ache. 

"I was furious with him. I didn't speak to him for more than a year. He came and got the things he had brought into our home, and I locked myself away until he had left. He called, he left messages, he sent notes...I burned them, and deleted his messages. I was so broken."

Scott squeezed onto the tread next to her and pulled her to him. "Baby, you don't have to go on." His voice was cracked with emotion. She looked up and saw the pain for her that was reflected in his eyes, and she hugged him back.

"I'm okay, honestly. His mother finally forced a meeting between us, and after I stopped hitting him, I collapsed in his arms and we bawled our eyes out." She smiled, remembering how they had hugged each other till the storm of weeping had passed. "He told me he was sorry over and over, that he had never meant to hurt me, that I knew he loved me, just not in that way, but he didn't know it till he fell in love. We knew then that that was why our lovemaking always seemed slightly off kilter."

"Did you ever meet Cindy?" Scott wanted to know.

"No. I wasn't ready for that, and he didn't push it. Neither did she, apparently. The first time I saw her, and she me, was the last time we each saw him, at his funeral. She was devastated, just like I was."

"Did you talk to her?"

"No. What could I say? Sorry for your loss? He was my loss, too. He had been mine long before her. Since then, I've stayed away from men. It's just been easier, you know? I don't have to worry about hurting their feelings when they realize that they don't light my fire. I don't have to meet their expectations for what a great lover must be. I don't have to do or be anything for them. I can just be me."

Scott squeezed her shoulders in comfort, and dropped a light kiss on her head. "I did rush you, didn't I, honey? I'm sorry."

Dawn let herself relax against him. "And I'm sorry I made you feel bad. I didn't mean to. I just wanted you to understand. I'm glad you do."

"You can always be yourself with me, okay? I don't want you to feel like you have to do or be anything special for me. Just let me be with you. Please!" 




May to December Ch. 04



Scott turned her face up to his and kissed her. It was a tender kiss, not asking for or demanding anything from her, but giving her comfort and reassurance...and love. Dawn kissed him back, knowing he wouldn't take advantage of the situation to make love to her now. And part of her was glad he understood, while the part of her that he had awakened was aching for him again. He took any choice she thought she had away from her when he said, releasing her mouth,

"I think maybe I need to take you home now. I'll be working doubles for the next few days, so you'll have lots of time to get used to missing me till we meet again. Is that okay with you?" He smiled down at her as he spoke, and she smiled back at him.

"It's fine with me," she answered, and kissed him lightly. "I'll just get my things."

He let her go and stood with her, following her up the stairs to his bedroom where she retrieved her purse, and looked around for her panties. When she couldn't find them, she turned to him with the question already spilling from her lips.

"Have you seen my underwear?"

"Yes."

She looked at him and saw he was fighting a smile. "Where is it?"

"In here." He was grinning now, and Dawn marched over to him. "So, may I please get it?"

"No." He chuckled at the outraged expression on her face.

"I can't go around with no underwear on!" she exclaimed irritably.

"You won't be going around. You'll be going home. And no underwear might be a good thing, if you decide you want to play." He waggled his eyebrows at her, and added, "I want to keep it. Do you mind?"

She subsided, smiling faintly at the hopeful look on his face. "Okay, but if I'm going commando, so are you, mister!"

"Done, ma'am!" he said, and opened the button fly of his jeans so she could see the dark bush that nestled at the root of his cock. 

Dawn felt a rush of heat that colored her cheeks and dampened her sex, and she hastily looked away. 

"Ready?" he asked, as the phone rang. He went to answer it, and when he was done, she said, "Yes, I'm ready."

"You have great timing, love," he said with a rueful grin. "That was the hospital. I need to go in. I'll drop you off as soon as I've changed." He turned back to smile at her as he added, "I'll go commando next time, I promise!"

Dawn beat a hasty retreat, not sure, despite the intimacies she had shared with him all weekend, that she could stand to watch him dress. She went to sit in the living room and when he came down, dressed slightly less casually than before, she had to smile. 

"Nice shirt," she commented, taking in the button-down white cotton shirt he had tucked into the waistband of dark blue jeans.

"Thanks," he replied, smiling. "Let's go."

The drive back home was quiet. Scott seemed preoccupied, and Dawn was grateful that he was not focused on her for a change. It would take a lot to settle her mind after all that she had done with him over the last two nights. Aside from Hunter, she had only spent the night with a man one other time. But that was where any comparison ended. Scott was the consummate lover, and she found herself overwhelmed by her desire for him, a desire so absolute that it frightened her. She was relieved when they got to her house that he couldn't do more than kiss her lips quickly and promise to call. She watched him drive away, and went indoors.

Scott did not call. Dawn called and left a message on his machine after waiting a week for him to call. She made it short, and did not say any of the accusing things that were on the tip of her tongue. He did not return her call. She had manuscripts to edit and chapters to add to her novel, and the following two weeks were full with work. But still, beneath the busyness of her days, the ache to hear from him again grew deeper. She argued with herself, calling her self all kinds of a fool for imagining that a man so much younger than she would want to hang around, especially now that he knew the baggage she carried, not just on her body but in her heart and soul. She berated herself every time she left another message on his answering machine, knowing she would get no response.

He called one day while she was out, two weeks after their tryst, and left a long message apologizing for not having answered before. 

"Hi, gorgeous lady! Sorry I haven't gotten in touch before now. Work has been crazy. I hardly get any rest these days, honey. I miss you so much. I wish I could kiss you right now, hold you in my arms, show you how I'm feeling. I'll try to call again soon, okay? Take care, baby." His voice made her ache, and she waited anxiously for his next call.  A few days later, as she was walking into the house, she missed the phone and her answering machine picked up another message from him, saying he was out of town and would call when he returned.

He never called again. She resisted the urge to go to the hospital to find him. She would not be seen as a stalker, though the many messages she was leaving might be construed as such. She didn't want him to think she was desperate for him. She would not humiliate herself. She was fifty years old. She didn't need anyone.

She left one more message on Saturday, two weeks after his last message, and this time she did not try to censor herself. She told him off roundly, and hoped she never had to see him again. She accused him of using her to scratch his itch, and wondered when he had introduced his new lady friend to his children's books. Her pain and rage bled through the message, and when she hung up, she was shaking. When the doorbell rang, she had to take several calming breaths before she went to answer it, hoping her visitor did not notice how upset she was. Jeff and Dana stood outside, carrying two big flowerpots filled with geraniums.

"We're finally bringing them over, as we promised, love," Dana said as she stood aside to let them enter. "If you've nothing planned, how about we all go to the fair. We haven't hung out in a while, you've been so busy!"

Dawn moved mechanically, showing them where to put the pots, smiling in the right places, and eventually agreeing to go with them to the fair.  She needed some time away from her thoughts, from her anger, from her hurt. By the time they got to the grounds, Dawn was sufficiently relaxed that her responses to Dana were genuine, and her smiles real. They wandered around, shooting for teddy bears, getting their portraits painted, and Dawn watched her friends enjoy the rides. She wasn't into rides herself, but it amused her to watch their faces and hear their exaggerated screams of delight. 

"Ready to eat?" Jeff asked when they got off the last ride, his arm around his wife. 

Dawn nodded, her eyes wandering around the grounds, enjoying the afternoon sunshine, and the simple pleasure of being outdoors. When she saw Scott with his arm around a young woman, it took her a full minute to register what she was seeing. He was smiling down at her, and her upturned face showed the depth of her feeling for him. Dawn felt a sharp pain in her gut, and the world spun around her. She felt dizzy, and grabbed the nearest thing to her, which happened to be a tent pole, and she passed out.

When she came to, she was lying on a cot in the first aid office, and Dana was sitting next to her, anxiety and worry plain on her face.

"Oh good, you're awake! What happened, Dawn?"

Dawn sat up, and rubbed her hand against a pain in the back of her head. 

"I...I felt faint," she hedged, remembering immediately why she had felt as though her whole world were tilting on its axis. She would never tell anyone of her utter humiliation. She hadn't told Dana about her weekend in Scott's home, and now she was glad she had been silent on the matter. "I want to go home," she added. "Now."

"But Dawn, you need to get checked. You hit your head when you fell!" Dana objected.

"I'll go tomorrow. I want to leave now! Please!"

She could see the puzzlement on her friend's face, and she was sorry to frighten her, but she couldn't stay where she might see him again with his new fling a moment longer. 

"Please, Dana!" she begged, panic rising inside her. She didn't want them to call for a doctor and risk him showing up.

"All right, calm down!" Dana said, and left to get Jeff, who came immediately and helped her to the car. 

The ride home was silent. She kept her eyes closed, and when they asked if she wanted them to come in, she declined their offer, promising to see her doctor the next day. They left her reluctantly, and Dawn went into her home slowly, closing the door quietly behind her. She was hurting so badly, she could barely hold back the tears. The ache in her heart was driving her insane, the wound so deep she thought she would never recover. He had broken her heart, and it was her fault for being stupid enough to believe a man like him, in his prime, sought after by women his age and far more alluring and beautiful than she, would ever have more than a passing interest in her. She sagged against the door, and sank to the floor as her misery overwhelmed her. She cried out her love, her hurt, her fury, sobs wracking her frame until she was dry and sore and empty. And there was no one to comfort her.

Eventually, when the darkness of the room penetrated her inner gloom, she struggled to her feet and switched on a hall light. She stood there, feeling disoriented, out of sync, wishing she knew what to do next, or had someone to direct her. She hung up her coat and trailed upstairs to her bedroom where she changed and went to take a bath. Maybe a good long soak would revive her, and make her able to face the night, and the rest of her life, without the man who had made her fall in love with him.

She added bath salts and a bit of scented oil to the water, and turned on the jets. Then she sat in the bubbling flood and cried some more. Her throat was raw with weeping, her heart so heavy she had no strength left to fight the emotions that broke over her like storm-driven waves on the ocean. How could she have let him lead her on like this? How did she not guess that his long absence was significant? Why hadn't she suspected that he was cheating on her? How could she have been so stupid?

Finally, when the water grew cold around her, she got out of the bath and dried herself. Tossing on the old robe hanging on the hook behind the door, she walked into her bedroom and threw herself across the bed. If she never got up again, it would be too soon, she thought wildly for a second, and then she sat up. This would never do. He hadn't made a commitment to her, nor she to him. They had had sex – phenomenal, true, but just a physical act – and she would miss it, but she would not die for lack of more. She was a strong woman who had been through a great deal of grief. If she could overcome rape and divorce, she could overcome this.

The tears trickling down her cheeks caught her by surprise. She had thought her pep talk would stiffen her spine, but apparently it would take more than a stern talking-to to get her out of the funk she was in. It didn't help that she was humiliated to have been so bowled over by his charm and sexiness. She had believed him when he had said it wasn't lust he was feeling, because if it had been, it would have fizzled out by now.  She supposed bitterly that it had fizzled out, finally.

She called her doctor and made an appointment for the next day, and threw herself into her work. She had a mild concussion, she was told when she went in, and she needed to take it easy for a few days and not drive anywhere on her own.  Back at home, Dawn found she was restless, unable to settle her mind to any one thing. Finally, in despair, she gave up and went to bed. She woke up at midnight to see the light flashing on her answering machine. That was probably what woke her up. She reached over to press the button to listen, and Scott's voice broke the silence.

"Dawn, honey, you have every right to be furious with me, but there's no one else, baby. I know you won't believe me, but things have been exceptionally busy at the hospital, and I've been too tired when I get home to do more than fall into bed. I want to come by tomorrow, because I've finally got a couple of days off in a row. I promise I won't try anything, but I have to talk to you."

Her hands were trembling as she pressed delete, fresh tears tracking down her cheeks. Another message was there, and she pressed Play. 

"Please pick up, Dawn. Please!"

She deleted that one, too. And she wouldn't be around when he came by later. She decided it was time she went to visit her cousin who lived two states away. She'd spend a few days there, soaking up the sea air, and regaining her composure. Her mind made up, she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It took her an hour to fall into a fitful doze. She woke up a few hours later to the doorbell ringing. Scott!

She pulled the sheet over her head, as though she could hide in bed forever. He kept ringing, and finally she was so angry she threw the bedclothes aside, fixed her robe, and marched downstairs. Flinging open the door, she began to berate him immediately.

"You have got some bloody nerve coming here at this time of the morning! I didn't invite you here! Go away!" 

She planted herself in the doorway, daring him to touch her, and waiting for him to leave. He didn't move. She looked at him, and noted that his face was drawn, his eyes bloodshot. 

"And you have the cheek to show up here drunk as well? How dare you! I'm not some floozy you can come to work your lust off on just whenever you please! Get the hell off my front porch!"

She moved back and prepared to slam the door in his face, but he put his foot in the door, and stopped it with his hand. 

"You may have the right to be angry with me, Dawn, but you don't have the right to be rude. I'm not drunk, just tired. I'm coming directly from work."

Her rage grew as he spoke, because she knew he was right, and the last thing she wanted was for him to be right.

"If you don't remove your foot from my door, I'm going to call the police!" she threatened.

"Do what you have to do, but by the time they get here, I will have said what I came to say," he answered coolly, only the tightening of his jaw showing that he was not as calm as he appeared.

Dawn watched him, not letting him move past the door. "Say what you have to say, and then go. It won't make a difference!"

"You've never wanted us to succeed, have you, Dawn?" he accused her. At the mutinous set of her mouth, he began again. "I told you I've fallen in love with you. I have. I've been so lonely without you, and so frustrated that I couldn't spend time with you. I was either away from home, or so exhausted I couldn't even stay awake to answer your messages."

"You weren't too tired to show up at the fair with a new woman on your arm, though, were you? A new, younger woman who's besotted with you. Another one you 'care' about!" She threw the accusation at him, her head high, her cheeks red, her eyes defiant. "I'm not buying your bullshit, Scott! Just let it go. You won! I'm a stupid middle-aged fart who let a younger guy play her for a fool. I'm lonely, and you needed your itch scratched. It wasn't too hard for you to get what you wanted while seeming to give me what I wanted, too. You knew all the right words to say to make me believe you gave a fig for my feelings. You seduced me, knowing you were going to discard me like week-old leftovers as soon as fresh meat came along. Well, I hope she's tasty, because this meat plant is closed!"

The bones in Scott's jaw tightened, and Dawn watched it, fascinated despite herself. "Let me in, Dawn, before I do something we'll both regret!" 

His voice was low, a growl of sound that told her he was on the verge of something she would rather have nothing to do with. But she didn't want to give in to him. She wanted to resist, to hold her rage to her bosom like a cherished friend. She caught his eyes as they took in her appearance, and suddenly she recalled that she was naked under the robe. Color flooded her cheeks as his eyes took in the way the lapels fell away from the luscious curves of her breasts, the way the robe hugged her hips. 

"Let me in, Dawn!" He repeated his demand, and she glared at him.

"Why?" The bald question hung between them, waiting.

"Because I need you. Because you need me." His voice was hoarse. "Because we need each other."

Tears shone in his eyes, shocking Dawn out of the fury she had been giving free rein. 

"Scott..."

"Please, baby, let me in!" 

Dawn moved aside, and Scott walked in, waiting for her to close the door and usher him into the living room. He remained standing till she offered him a seat, and he didn't speak till she sat down herself, as far from him as she could.

"The woman you saw me with is my cousin, here for a fortnight's visit. She was leaving the next day to visit relatives out of state."

"How could you find time to spend with her at the fair, and not have time even to call me? 

"She came by the hospital. I went to the fair with her, then went home and fell into bed."

"And the other twenty-seven days?"

"What?" Scott's confusion showed on his face.

"The other four weeks when you chose to ignore my repeated messages? What's your excuse for those days?"

"I have no excuse, Dawn, other than what I've told you. And..." He hesitated.

"And?" Dawn felt her heart trip over itself.

He stood up and paced away to the window. "I knew you didn't trust me, Dawn, even after all we'd done together. I knew I had rushed you into my bed. I knew I had come on strong, and you weren't ready for me. I wanted to give you time to miss me, to realize that what we had shared was more than sex."

He turned back to face her, his face serious. "I'm sorry I hurt you, honey. I was wrong. I should have come by much sooner. I just wanted to say that. I'll go now."

Dawn watched him go back to her front door. His shoulders sagged, and she realized, as she watched him open the door, that he was exhausted. 

"Have you just come off another double, Scott?" she asked.

"Yes." His answer was curt. "I'm off now." 

His voice cracked, much like her heart seemed to be doing. He had come to her on empty, and she couldn't let him go knowing he had might fall asleep at the wheel and be seriously hurt or killed, like Hunter had been. The next words out of her mouth shocked them both.

"Why don't you get some sleep, first? You're obviously exhausted. You can use the spare bedroom...the bed's already made up. You shouldn't drive when you're this fatigued."

"What?" His jaw dropped in astonishment. "You're asking me to stay in your house, even though you're angry with me?"

"I'm not inviting you into my bed, Scott! When you wake up, you can leave!" She steeled herself to say the words, and added, "Up the stairs, first bedroom on the left."

Scott hesitated, considering her offer. He wanted more than anything to collapse onto a bed, any bed, and sleep for a week, but he knew if he stayed he would want more than he saw she was prepared to give him. He had his own bed...he would get to it somehow and sleep there. 

"Thanks, but I'll be fine," he said, declining the offer, and adding, when he saw the look that crossed her face before she squashed it, "I'm not rejecting you, Dawn. I'm not rushing home to another woman. I dream only of you. You have a good day, okay?" 

He looked at her for one more long moment, needing to kiss her so much he trembled. But he saw she was conflicted, and the anger had not completely left her. He chose not to add to the black marks against him by trying to suck her into his mouth, though that was all he wanted to do. He couldn't even smile at her. He raised a hand in farewell. "Bye."

He could feel her eyes on him as he got back into his car and drove off. His heart was heavy, as were his eyes, but he managed to make it home without mishap and barely managed to make it up the stairs to his bedroom. He toed off his shoes and threw himself onto the bed, certain he would be asleep before he knew it. He wasn't. The scene at Dawn's house played over and over in his head. He saw her angry face, he saw the hurt in her eyes, he saw her voluptuous body beneath the robe...he saw her, and he wanted her and he knew he would never have her again unless something happened to make her change her mind about him. He couldn't think what he could do to make that happen...




May to December Ch. 04



When he woke up, he called her before taking a shower. There was no answer. After his shower, he called her again. Still no answer. He made himself toast and coffee, and tried again after the simple meal. Nothing. He decided to try again in the evening, and went about doing his chores, feeling hollow. He thought about the Saturday, five weeks earlier, when he and she had worked together on his chores. He remembered watching her, wanting her, having her. 

He closed the washing machine in disgust and went to sit in the bedroom/library. They had sat on that chair together, he recalled, and he had kissed her deeply, passionately. He groaned and reached for one of the books still on the side table where he had put it over two months ago. It was Corduroy, the book his Aunt Rachel had bought for him when he was five years old, and had lost his favorite teddy bear. He opened it and began to read. He fell asleep there, the book draped across his belly.

After dinner, he tried again, but Dawn did not answer her phone. Maybe she's gone out, he told himself. After all, just because he wasn't with her didn't mean she sat at home doing nothing. He would call again tomorrow. He spent the rest of the evening listening to Chopin and missing her. He knew that he had screwed up, that he should have stuck to his original plan to wear down her defenses by being around as much as he could. But he had worried that she might bolt if he kept coming on strong, and he knew she was the one he wanted, so he had decided to try it her way, and be hands off. 

Too hands off, it now appeared. He should have known she wouldn't be satisfied with a couple of phone messages, that she would have wanted the solace of his physical presence. He should have known that no matter how aloof she was, she needed him as much as he needed her, and because of the way she saw herself, she was even more vulnerable to him than he was to her. He kicked himself mentally for being an ass, and hoped he'd get her the next day. But morning brought no answers either to his calls or his messages.

He knew, by the end of the day, that she had gone away. And he also realized that she had known she was leaving when he had left her house the day before. The pain hit him square in the chest, and he fought against fury and hurt, trying to rationalize the situation. He knew it was his fault, and he knew he should not have expected her to forgive him easily. After all, he had done nothing to make her think she might begin to trust him again. None of these very reasonable arguments made him feel any less like smashing the furniture and roaring in rage.

Scott left her a message before he went to work on Monday morning, telling her he understood that she was angry with him, and that he knew he deserved it, and asking her to forgive him and give him another chance. He said he loved her, though he knew she wouldn't believe him, and hoped she would give him the chance to prove it. He told her he would be working doubles most of the week, and would not be in touch before Thursday or Friday, and then he rang off. He managed to keep the emotions crowding his chest out of his voice, and went to work to drown his sorrow.

Dawn heard every message he left, because she checked her house phone's messages on her cell phone. She had been away for three days, and she knew that staying away was not helping her deal with the pain that had settled in her chest like a large rock. And she knew that now Scott was hurting, too, and that they would need to resolve it. Either he would be the one she was with, or she would send him away. She had a decision to make, and she had to make it soon.

On her way home, she stopped by Dana's for a visit. She hadn't been by there in a while, not since the incident at the fair, though they had come to visit her, and she felt she needed to talk to someone, just to blow the cobwebs away, to clear her head, to make sure she was doing the right thing. Dana met her at the door, her loose-fitting dress reminding Dawn that she was growing a little one inside her. She could see her friend's tummy like a little pout under the dress, and it made her smile.

"You're growing!" she exclaimed, returning her friend's hug. "You look great, sweetie!"

"I feel great!" Dana replied happily, taking her through to the large kitchen. "I started making a late lunch when you said you were coming. I want to hear all about whatever it is that's made you come here." Her smile was knowing, her eyes worried, as she looked at her friend. "Here, help me with this." She handed Dawn the chicken salad she had made, and pointed to the rolls. "Make sandwiches, please. Jeff will be home soon, so I might as well make them all now."

Dawn complied, and not wanting Jeff to hear what she had to say about Scott, she began to speak. 

"It's about...a man," she said, wishing she could be more articulate about her personal life. If this were a novel, she'd be clear as crystal.

"I figured it would be," Dana commented, adding a leafy salad to each plate. "It's not that guy Jeff was telling me about, is it? The doctor?"

Dawn finished making the sandwiches before answering her friend. "Yes. What did Jeff tell you?" she demanded anxiously.

Dana grinned at her. "Nothing other than that he was younger than you, good-looking, and he'd break him in half if he hurt you!"

Dawn was silent so long that Dana came round to where she sat at the table and asked, "Is everything okay? You look like you've lost your best friend."

Tears welled up, and Dawn closed her eyes, willing them to subside. She needed to get it out before Jeff arrived. No matter how angry she was with Scott, she didn't want anyone but her judging him, and she didn't want anyone to hurt him or threaten him. She shook her head at the thought. How absolutely crazy that was!

Hurriedly, she brought Dana up to speed, and when she was done she added, "Please don't tell Jeff any of this! Promise me, Dana!"

"Let's eat," her friend said, nodding her agreement, and sat next to her, pouring milky coffee into tall ice-filled glasses. "So, basically, the two of you have been boneheads? That's what you're telling me!"

Dawn turned her face sharply to her friend, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "What? He's the one who hasn't communicated with me in five weeks, who makes promises to call and then doesn't. I'm the one who was acting like a damned stalker, leaving messages on his cell phone every bloody day!"

Dana sipped her iced coffee and smiled. "Dawn, tell me honestly, how do you feel about this guy?"

Dawn hesitated. "Come on, you're old enough to know by now what you're feeling!" Dana said impatiently. "Unless that's the problem. You don't want to feel anything for him, so he can't hurt you!"

"Dana, you know my history. Am I wrong to be cautious around a guy like this, who began to fall for me before he even knew who I was? I mean, come on!" Dawn stated one of her biggest concerns aloud for the first time.

"He knew who you were, Dawn. Your stories are you. He just needed to put a face to the woman. And now that he has, and he's shown you he wants you, you're running scared, and he's taken it to mean he should back off, which you've taken to mean he's a player. You can't fix this unless you talk to each other. You won't find a man to love by hiding away from them!"

The door to the garage opened, and Jeff walked in, his arms laden with shopping bags. Dawn went to help him, shooing Dana back to her seat.

"Let me," she said, and relieved him of some of the bags.

"Thanks, Dawn," Jeff said gratefully, and after he put the rest of the bags down, he strode over to kiss his wife. Dawn watched them kiss each other deeply, as though she wasn't there, and her gut twisted with need. There was someone who wanted to be with her like that, and she was too scared to let him in, and too fearful to trust him, and too embarrassed to fight for him.

She turned away, and began to unpack things from the bag closest to her hand, avoiding looking at her friends.

"Oh no you don't!" Jeff said behind her, and stopped her. "Go finish your visit. I've got this!"

Dawn gave up the whipped cream she was holding and went to sit with Dana, who was eyeing her with amusement.

"Gotcha!" her friend whispered conspiratorially, and winked. Dawn couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, and when Jeff looked round at them suspiciously, they both laughed.

"Mind your business!" his wife said, blowing him a kiss. He chuckled and went back to unpacking.

"You have to talk to him, Dawn!" she advised her friend in a low tone, so Jeff couldn't hear. "Even if it's to end it. You can't go on like this, not knowing how he really feels, not admitting how you feel. Limbo is an ugly place to live!"

"How do I forgive his absence, his almost complete silence?" Dawn demanded in an equally low voice, wanting to hang on to her resentment of his treatment of her.

Dana's face grew serious. "How does he forgive your pushing him away, sweetie?" Her tone was gentle, as though she knew the question would be painful for her friend. "He doesn't have to answer you. He doesn't have to come round. You've pretty much made it clear you're afraid of a close relationship with him, and there's only so much a person can take before he backs away. Hell, he might even be forgiven for thinking all you want is some hot sex from a hot young guy once in a while to keep you from climbing the walls. But what if he wants more than that? What if he's not willing to be your toy boy?"

There was no satisfactory answer to any of Dana's questions, and Dawn knew it. She saw how self-centered she had been from the beginning, assuming that Scott was the one needing to adjust his behavior to suit her impossible demands. Maybe she'd been alone too long and didn't know anymore how to be with men. Maybe she had never known. Maybe she was too old to start again.

"Stop overthinking this, Dawn! Just do something. Make a decision. It'll be better for both of you in the end!"

Dana reached over to squeeze her friend's hand, and then said in a louder voice, "So, when are you coming by for another visit? We're having the end of summer barbecue in a couple of weeks. It'd be nice to see you here!"

Jeff came to sit with them at that point, and bit into his sandwich with relish. "Last year, you left way too early, and you didn't bring a date!" he commented between bites. "If you're gonna come this year, don't show up alone! It's high time you found some willing man to squire you around town. You need to stop chasing them away, missy!"

He grinned at the expression on her face, and asked his wife, "Don't you agree with me, Dana?"

Dawn looked over in time to see Dana's impish smile. "Yep, I certainly do. She might try for that sexy young doctor you were telling me about!" She winked at Dawn, who groaned.

"Hey, I said nothing about him being sexy!" Jeff objected, but he was smiling as he drank half the glass of iced coffee his wife had poured for him. "How is the good doctor these days?" he wanted to know, getting back to his sandwich.

"Busy," Dawn replied, and closed her mouth, unwilling to discuss Scott further. "Anyway, thanks for the invitation. I'll see what I can do about a date, because there's no way I'm missing it this year. It'll probably be the last time before Christmas that I can hang out with anyone. I have two new books to finish by December, and a bunch of editing for my clients. I'm gonna be too busy myself to scratch my head, let alone have fun!"

She rose as she spoke, and hugged her friend. "I'd better get going. I have a lot to do." She looked into Dana's eyes meaningfully for a second, then looked away and smiled at Jeff. "Always good to see you two!" she said, and accepted his kiss on the cheek. "See you in two weeks!"

"Call me!" Dana called after her as she walked out to her car. 

"I will!" she replied, smiling at her friend's encouragement. Dana was right. There had been mistakes on both sides, and it was up to her, as the one who had started the whole mess, to fix things. She spent the drive home deciding how she would get Scott to visit and what she would say to him. It was dark when she turned onto her street, and her heart leapt in her throat when she saw the car parked in front of her driveway. He was preventing her from getting into her garage, but instead of being angry, she found herself laughing softly. I guess he's mad now too, she thought as she pulled in front of his car and parked.

Removing the key from the ignition, she took a deep breath and got out, watching him get out of his to walk toward her. It's like a scene in a movie, she thought, bemused, like a showdown at noon, and when they stood in front of each other, she knew things would be okay.

"Where've you been? I've been waiting here all afternoon!" His tone was accusing and worried at the same time, and Dawn smiled.

"I was with Dana and Jeff," she said, glad she could give him a truth to begin their conversation. "Come inside, please!"

She led the way inside, switched on a light, and invited him into her kitchen. "How did you know I'd be back today?" she wanted to know, turning to face him for a moment.

"I didn't. I took a chance!" He sat at the table, clasping his hands in front of him. She stared at them, the hands that had made her ache, the fingers that had touched her core, and felt her cheeks flushing with color. She didn't want to confuse the conversation with lust, so she turned away, asking over her shoulder,

"Would you like some coffee? It'll be a while to dinner."

"Coffee's fine, Dawn," he answered, his voice husky. 

That made her turn around, and the look she saw on his face had her gripping the counter to keep from falling. She tried to look away, to turn back to the counter and the coffee maker, but she was riveted by the lust and the love he was not hiding from her. His face was serious, his eyes holding hers.

"Come here," he demanded quietly. 

"I have to make the coffee," she demurred, finally turning away to give her hands something to do and her heart time to settle down.

"Coffee can wait," he said at her ear before his hands descended on her shoulders and he turned her to face him. "This can't!"

His mouth was hungry, aching, wounded, frustrated...every emotion he was feeling was conveyed in the kisses he rained down on her face, her neck, her shoulders, her mouth. He didn't wait for her to invite him in, but pushed his tongue inside and took possession of hers, and Dawn tasted the sweetness of being needed, of being wanted, of being loved unconditionally. When he let her up for air, he whispered against her lips,

"I wanted to be angry with you for running away from me. I was, for a while. But it didn't stop me from wanting you with every breath I breathed. It didn't stop me from needing to hear your voice. It didn't stop me from needing to see your smile, to be with you, even for an hour. I'm in love with you, Dawn. Totally. I'm not going to stop because we've been stupid. Are you?"

He kissed her again, as though he couldn't wait for her answer because he needed the flavor of her on his tongue. Dawn moaned as he kissed her, forgetting all the carefully worded phrases she had been rehearsing to say to him when she called him on the phone. His presence and his need overwhelmed her, soaked into her pores, filled her. He eased his mouth from hers, and asked again,

"Are you, Dawn?"

"No," she whispered back, smiling through sudden tears. "I'm sorry, too, Scott. I pushed you away because I'm afraid. I don't know how to be with someone like you, and I was even wondering if I'm not too old to learn how now. But no, I don't want to stop!"

"You're very hung up on numbers, aren't you?" he asked, sighing. "How old you are, the number of years between us, the number of weeks we've known each other, the number of times I didn't call." He held her face between his hands so she couldn't look away.  "None of those things matter. The only thing that matters is how we feel about each other." 

He kissed her again, stopping her from answering him, sucking her tongue into his mouth, eating at her lips ravenously. He was trembling with emotion, she realized, when next he let her go, and they were breathing hard, foreheads pressed against each other.

"I need you, baby. We can talk later, but right now, I need to be with you. Please!" 

Dawn pushed against his chest enough to look into his eyes. "Your message said you were working doubles, and wouldn't be in touch till Thursday or Friday. It's Monday evening. Are you playing hooky?" she teased.

Scott picked her up and kissed her mouth hard before answering. "I switched with someone. I have to be at work at 11. Which doesn't give me a lot of time." He kissed her again as he went up the stairs.

"I guess I'll have to give you the grand tour some other time, eh?" she asked on a chuckle, and gasped when he paused on a tread to suck on her again.

"Just tell me where you sleep," he responded, resuming his climb, and followed her directions to the last bedroom. Turning in, he saw a king-sized bed, covered in a bright peach and green quilt, and he smiled.

"Big bed for one person," he commented with a grin, depositing her on it and coming down beside her.

"I like a lot of room," she said huskily, her heart leaping as his hands began a leisurely exploration of her curves, sliding under her top to cup her breasts, undoing the clasp of her jeans and teasing her mound, and all the while feathering her skin everywhere it was exposed with light, teasing kisses.

"You smell delicious!" he whispered. "Help me get these off!" 

Dawn sat up and helped him undress her, and then she helped him with his own clothes. His body was so honed, it made her mouth water. How could someone like him ever find her attractive enough to want to stay? Her thoughts were interrupted by eager hands, trembling slightly, reaching for her to pull her under him. His mouth devoured hers, before continuing a leisurely trip down her body to the prize he sought.

"You know what to do, baby," he instructed hoarsely, and looked deep into her eyes, as he began to eat her, savoring her like candy. His groans of pleasure surrounded her, his mouth aroused her past fever pitch, and Dawn had to fight to keep her eyes on him, as he wanted her to do. He suckled her clit, pushing two fingers deep into her core and teasing her back entrance, making her squirm and moan and finally, after he lapped at her from anus to clit and pushed his tongue deep into her soaking vagina, making her scream in fulfillment.

Dawn settled her bottom back on the bed in a daze, her legs trembling in reaction to the orgasm that made it impossible for her to speak. He didn't give her a chance to come down from that high before he was plunging into her wet center, ramming her to the hilt over and over, grunting with each stroke of his rod into her.

"Tell me you belong to me, Dawn. Tell me you're mine." His voice was hoarse with love and lust. "Tell me!"

"I'm yours, Scott!" she cried as he took her higher.

"And I'm all yours, baby! Always!" Scott rocked into her body, riding her hard and deep, taking her flying with him. Their cries echoed around the room as they shook through another powerful orgasm, gasping for breath, fulfilled.

Scott rolled off her, turning to his side so he could pull her against him and curve his body around hers. He was exhausted, but he hadn't wanted to wait till Thursday to contact her. Something had driven him to change shifts and come today, and now he was glad he had. He knew they still had to talk, and he sensed that Dawn had things she needed to say to him. But now that he knew she was his, he could wait to talk till he got a couple of hours of sleep. Dawn was already heavy in his arms. He smiled and relaxed.




May to December Earth Day Romance



A pit formed in my stomach. I felt like I had been punched. I stared in disbelief at what I had just read in the paper. Under the obituaries, it was all there: her name, her photo and the details of very full life. The memories came back. She was a part of my past; a good part. I reread her obit. I was alone on my back porch overlooking my garden of colorful flowers, native shrubs, and manicured trees. She had sparked my love for gardening. 

Her name was Ginger Green. At first, I called her Ms. Ginger. She preferred that over Ms. Green. My college required me to complete community service hours, and my mother suggested I try the city botanical gardens. Ms. Ginger was the first woman I met when I showed up one early Saturday morning. She pulled up in an early '80's two door Mercedes coupe convertibles. The top was down and she looked like a movie star from yesteryear. Her big blonde hair was restrained under a green scarf. She smiled my way as she pulled into her parking spot. She turned the car off and called out to me.

"Are you Chris?" She called out.

"Yes ma'am." I respectfully answered.

Her smile continued as she exited the car. I shook her hand and asked if I could help her with the grocery bags stacked in the passenger seat. That scored points with her. 

"Thank you for helping me. I brought breakfast for the volunteers." She carried her purse and two bags off to the main building. I followed, carrying the rest. With Ms. Ginger in the lead, I was able to observe her from behind. Her legs were a matched pair of elegant muscle. She liked to walk, a lot, and it showed. My eyes moved up to her ass. I just knew it was like her legs under her long khaki shorts. 

She caught me starring when she turned around at the entrance gate. I sheepishly looked to the side. 

Ms. Ginger explained the volunteer procedures. "This is where we all go in during volunteer hours. We make sure to check in with Gus." She pushed a code on the button lock, turned the knob and we were in.

Gus, the security guard, was housed in a small room close to the garden's front gate. He slumped behind a glass window with theater box office holes in it playing solitaire.

"Morin' Gus." Ginger announced with a cheery sing-song voice.

Despite his gruff look, Gus was generally cheery. 

"Good morning, beautiful director." He sing-songed a response in kind.

Ginger pulled a small paper bag from one of the big bags she was carrying. She slid it through the wide, lower opening.

"Thank you! You are such a sweetheart." Gus beamed. Turns out most every Saturday morning she brought him a special breakfast. 

Gus saw me out of the corner of his eye. "Is this your son?" He asked.

"No." She said. "This is Chris, my newest volunteer."

I nodded and said good morning. Ginger had me moving along. She asked me to set up a table with the grocery items while she made coffee. The rest of the volunteers filed in. After half an hour, a pot of coffee, and several boxes of morning pastries, everyone had their work assignments. I ended up with Ms. Ginger.

She had me pushing wheelbarrows with new plants, compost, and clippings. On my last clippings dump before lunch, one volunteer told me to tell Ginger that lunch was almost ready. I added a few new plants to the wheelbarrow for the return trip and pushed them back to where Ginger was working.

I rolled up the path and saw Ginger on her knees. She was sitting up, holding a bulb, checking it, and then placing it in a bag. She had on a broad brimmed gardening hat without her sunglasses. She kept her back totally straight which made her breasts appear larger than they were. At that moment she looked like a 1950's pinup beauty.

I put the skids of the wheel barrow down with a thud and she turned to me. Once again, Ginger caught me looking at her body.

"Are you having fun yet, Chris?" Her tone was sarcastic.

"Yes ma'am." I smirked. "Lunch is about ready." 

"Great!" She put down her trowel and stood up. We walked to the building where we had breakfast. We made small talk, and she commented about my hard work as she rubbed my arm from elbow to shoulder. 

Lunch taught me more about Ginger and the rest of the volunteers. Ms. Ginger was the social leader of this group. She was young and vivacious enough to keep the group moving. Some of the people were bitter and negative. She was the opposite with enough positive energy to negate a few of them. 

After lunch it was more of the same for me. I pushed the wheelbarrow until we finished in the late afternoon. Ms. Ginger asked if I had a ride home. I told her I had my truck.

"Thank you for coming out. I hope you continue to come, we need some energy here. See you next weekend?" She smiled. I think she wanted me to say yes. So I did. "Excellent!" She beamed. "Now I am off to jump in my pool, then my hot tub." With that she drove off. I so wanted to jump in her pool.

The next weekend I was there early again. It was another weekend of hauling with the wheel barrow. Ms. Ginger's smile and soft flirtations were a great addition. I enjoyed the work. I was learning a great deal about plants, organic fertilizers, water, and soil types. Plus the gardens were peaceful and quiet. 

I enjoyed that second Saturday so much that I became a regular volunteer. Some days I was there for 4 hours, others a bit more. One morning Ms. Ginger spoke to all the volunteers during the sugar-caffeine breakfast. 

"Earth Day is coming up. We will need volunteers to help set up booths for the various groups that will be here." Her announcement led to groans from some. There was a signup sheet. I was the first one to put my name on it. Ms. Ginger saw it. She affectionately rubbed my arm and said a quiet "Thank you."

When that day came it was not a big deal physically, but it was a long day. We were there early and late for put up and tear down. My favorite booth was the solar power booth; they were making cookies. Ms. Ginger was zipping around the gardens like a humming bird ensuring everything was ok. We both exchanged smiles when she checked on me and a few other young guys hauling ice to various water stations.

At the day's end I was tired, sweaty, and just wanted to hit the shower. After the last booth was tucked away in a storage barn, I was enjoying a soda with some of the volunteers when Ms. Ginger came up and thanked us for our hard work. Despite having been there all day she did not look the least bit disheveled. She gave us all hugs and then went on to find another group to thank. One guy mentioned how attractive she was for "an older woman." We all thought that. 

The next weekend I showed up the usual time. The skies were threatening rain from a cool front. I was in the truck in the parking lot when Ms. Ginger pulled up next to me. She had the top up and quickly exited her vehicle and tapped on my passenger window. I let her in. She hopped up on the bench seat. Something was different about her this morning. Her hair always looked good. But this morning it looked more like she was set for a night out, not a day at the botanical garden. I also remember she smelled amazing. 

"Good morning." She greeted me with a hug, leaning over. "We might be the only ones today. If so, and it rains, we can do a few things in one of the greenhouses." 

I secretly wanted it just to be us. We waited. No other cars showed up in the parking lot and the sky continued to grow dark. 

"Shall we go?" She asked.

"Yes, let's." We both exited the truck's cab and headed through the gate, past Gus, and down a path to an out of the way greenhouse. Once inside I noticed how dim it was. The overcast sky gave it a soft green light. There were empty shelves alone the perimeter walls. In the middle of the greenhouse there was a waist high pile of bagged potting soil stacked on a pallet. Some of the cold weather sheets they put over plants were neatly folded on top.

"Where is the light switch?" I asked and turn around to look back at the door we just came in. Ms. Ginger shut it. 

"There isn't one." She said. Her voice was low and soft. 

She silently approached to me.

"What do you need me to do today?" I asked with all the naiveté of a young man.

She stood in front of me; her hands reached and clasped mine.

"You need to let me thank you for all your good work." She pulled my hands and I knew what was coming and did not resist. Her lips were soft. She had the scent of a rich perfume. I wrapped my arms around her. Her body was a fit size 6 and as we embraced I could feel her breasts. They felt like C cups against my chest.

My arms were around her, holding her in an embrace when the first clap of thunder rolled through. The lightning flashed and another clap of thunder. The heavy rain started. It made a loud rumble as the drops hit the roof.

I had to admit, this was romantic. We kissed. I held her. She wrapped her arms around my neck. My brain told me that I was kissing a much older woman, but my lips and body only focused on the woman portion. I was getting aroused. 

She started pushing me back. I did not have far to go before I was sitting on the stack of potting soil and sheets. It felt soft as I eased backwards onto the pile. She climbed on top of me pushing me down. She straddled my waist and kept kissing me. I peeked and all I could see was her closed eyes and blonde hair. She was an amazing passionate kisser. In this position she began running her fingers through my hair and caressing my scalp as her kisses moved to my neck.

More lighting. More thunder. The rain continued to pour down on the roof. It was loud. This was good since she was grinding her pelvis against me. I moaned, rather loudly, as she teased my constrained hardness. 

"You like that?" She asked rubbing her pelvis against me.

"Yes ma'am." I answered.

"Call me Ginger." Her kisses switched to the other side of my neck.

She then sat upright, rhythmically moving her hips, rubbing her crotch against mine. I loved how this felt. I loved my view, even in the dim light.

She kept gyrating on top of me. In the dim light I could see her smile and a certain happy, lustful look in her eyes. Without missing a beat she reached down and pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it. She reached back and unhooked her bra. She flipped it onto my face with a slight giggle. It smelled like her. I reached up and removed it from my eyes.

She leaned forward dangling her left breast near my lips. I could not resist. I lifted my head so I could kiss her nipple. My tongue soon was flicking it and moving around her areola. Her arms soon rested over each of my shoulders. 

"Mmmmm..." She purred.

I alternated to her other breast. Both were magnificent. They were actually B cups with a sexy hint of sag. My tongue flicked her nipple which evolved into deep kisses. The kisses moved into the valley between her breasts. Her warm, soft skin rubbed against my youthful clean shaven cheeks. Her perfume engulfed my senses. Thunder rolled again.

She slid down. Her lips met mine again. She kissed me with passion. It was different from the young women I was used to. This was abashed. I could feel it. I knew what was coming next and Ginger was about to introduce me to what experienced woman can do. 

"You smell good." She whispered, she spoke just before her lips were moving down my cheek then back to my neck.

Sheepishly, and sounding like the school boy I was, I responded with "You do too." 

Her lips stopped at my shirt's neckline. She reached down and pulled it over my head.

"Ooooo...I knew you would look like this!" She purred staring at my hairless, youthful chest. Thank goodness all of the work she had me do toned it up. She slid down from our soft perch. Lighting lit up the green house as she did a slow striptease. Slowly, rhythmically, her eyes locked on mine as she removed her shorts and panties. Her gaze made me hot. Unlike the girls I had been with, Ginger was confident and went after what she wanted. 

More thunder, it shook the green house. Ginger moved towards me. She tugged at my shorts. I was so excited I felt like I was going to burst. I was so hard. My cock was aimed straight up against my abdomen thanks her earlier grinding. My shorts and underwear came right off. Ginger's attention went to my now exposed organ. She gently reached down and lifted it up from my body. I loved the feeling of her warm hands. One hand started stroking my shaft while the other was rubbing my stomach and pelvic area.

"So Chris, did you ever think volunteering would get you here?" She asked as she broke into a smile. Before I could answer she took me into her mouth. It was ecstasy. The roar of the rain on the roof drown out my loud gasp. I watched her lips around my shaft. Felt her tongue rolling along my head. Her wrist grasped and twist pumped me. 

"Oh yeah..." I moaned then inhaled deeply. She paused long enough to say "No one can hear us. Be as loud as you want." I read between the lines. When I felt her warm tongue and engulfing lips back on my head I moaned. It was a reaction, a loud one. She liked that. My limited encounters with teenage girlfriends were not as good as Ms. Ginger. With them my encounters were secretive and had to be quiet. They were awkward and unsure. This woman was very sure of what she was doing and what it was doing to me.

"Gin---ger...ooooooo." I trailed off looking at the green house's ceiling for a bit then back at her. She turned her head, made eye contact with me. I felt a warm burn in my chest, it added to the tingle in my cock. Her hand grasped and rotated on my shaft in tandem with her mouth. I was hard, very, very hard. I think she could tell what was I was feeling. And perhaps what I was thinking. She released my cock and it fell back, aiming like an arrow towards my stomach Ginger reclaimed her perch straddled over me. She leaned forward.

"Are you ready?" She whispered in my ear, her breasts just under my chin. 

"Yes." I could not say much more. I was breathless. She continued and guided my cock into her. I loved it. She planted her two hands on my chest as she started gyrating. I was mad with lust. In the dim light and pouring rain this blonde woman riding me could have been 18. 

"Just lay there." She panted, not losing a beat. 

I reached for her breasts, caressing their sides and pinching her nipples slightly with my thumb and forefinger. 

"Oh yeah Chris....keep that up...." Her body bounced a bit harder. 

I was not sure I could. I started thinking of baseball scores. That was hard. I was a young man, her full breasts so soft in my hands. Her nipples so firm. She seemed to respond well to my little pinches and slight rubbing between my fingers. 

"Ooooooohhhhhh...." She moaned, her head leaning forward her body kept on me. 

"Ooooooooohhhhh....yyyyyyeeeeessss...." Louder yet. 

Her mouth was agape, she was silent. I felt a drop. Well, more like someone was pouring a shot glass of hot water down the side of my cock. She exploded. She was loud. Her back arched forward, her head looked straight up and her scream drowned out the rain. She then looked down at me. Her eyes were wide. They were fiery and in conjunction with mussed hair and glistening sweat I knew she was not to be denied.

"Cum for me Chris." She commanded. It was now her turn to pinch my nipples between her thumb and forefinger. The electric shocks it sent were new to me. No more thoughts of baseball scores. I focused on her eyes looking into mine and inhaled deeply.

"Ginger....I.....ahhhhhhhh"

I saw colors. Splotches of vibrant colored clouds colliding. I was coming. Hard.

Her mouth opened with a big smile. 

"Ohhh....Chris....give it to me. Give it all to me." She pushed herself down on me and gyrated a little. I finished coming, the colors went away slowly and all I could do was moan. I think my head was still jerking around in subtle aftershocks. Her hand affectionately rubbed my cheek, she leaned down and we kissed. A deep, hot afterglow kiss of lovers.

This started our May-September romance. I kept volunteering and Ginger would have me also work at her house. Well....we did work, then we would end up in the outdoor shower by her pool washing off the dirt and sweat from landscaping. There would be flirting, fondling, and finally fucking. Once we were on the rattan sofa on her back covered patio when we heard a car door. We almost got caught by one of her grown sons. 

She taught me things a young man needs to learn but is too full of himself to hear from his family or girlfriends. I learned how women like men to have a plan and not be indecisive. I learned that women like to "Just say hi" whereas men like to have a point to starting the conversation. Romance, she taught me that romance was important and so was listening. 

I think in the back of our minds we both knew our relationship had an end date. I was going to transfer my junior college credits to a 4 year university and Ms. Ginger had met someone. Someone more age appropriate. We met at the botanical gardens and took a walk. She did most of the talking and I could tell this was sort of hard for her. We hugged. I heard her sniffle. She was crying. It got worse when I said "Thank you."



May to December



Sleep came slowly. In his mind he could still see her, the midnight blue pantsuit she wore highlighting her dusky skin, the heels making her long legs longer. She was tall and full-bodied, with big breasts that begged for his mouth on them. He wondered, as he turned onto his back, what color her nipples were, and how sensitive they would be to the caress of his hungry tongue. He groaned...this was not helping him sleep. He tried reciting facts from anatomy, recalling the steps he took to treat that difficult patient two weeks ago, reminding himself of why he had left home, counting the number of streets between the hospital and his townhouse. An hour later, he fell into a fitful slumber. 

Two hours into his second shift the next day, Dawn walked behind the attending nurse into the examination room. Her face looked strained, and she was holding her right arm very gingerly with her left.

"What happened?" he asked, accepting the chart the nurse handed him.

"I have a decent job, you said," she commented mildly, ignoring his question. "You neglected to mention it was as a doctor!" Her voice was a whip of displeasure, of anger...of hurt. That last gave him pause, though it didn't stop him from reacting to its sultry tones, at once bone-melting and groin-hardening. He moved closer to her, glad of the white coat that hid his growing arousal. 

"You can berate me after I've helped you, okay?" He turned concerned eyes to her arm and asked again, "Tell me what happened."

"I was moving some things around, and picked up a box to take to the basement. I didn't realize how heavy it was. I think I wrenched something."

"How did you get here, Dawn?" Scott was clinical and impersonal as he gently examined the arm she was holding with such care.

"My neighbor brought me. I've already been here a while, and she may have to leave, though."

Scott spoke to the nurse, who helped Dawn off the bed and walked with her to have X-rays done of her arm. She was in so much pain that when the technician asked to rate it, she indicated the highest number on the little card, with the face that was crying. It was painful to place her arm in the ways she was asked to, but she bit her lip and held back the tears. When she returned to the examination room where Scott was waiting, she struggled to remain calm. She watched him study the X-rays, and to distract herself, she tried to regain her annoyance with him for omitting the little detail of the kind of job he did. It wasn't working, though, as she was more taken up with how he looked in his lab coat, and how his hands looked on the X-rays, and how his lips curved as he wrote on his little pad.

"Do you have any questions, Dawn?" His voice was gentle, his eyes watching her with faint amusement.

She felt her face heating, knowing she hadn't been paying any attention, between the pain and her interest in him.

"Would you please repeat what you said?" she asked in a low, embarrassed tone.

"Nothing's broken," he replied patiently, "but you have a severe sprain. You'll need to keep your arm in the sling I'll fit on you in a bit, and take these pills for pain." He handed her a prescription. "You also need to go see your own doctor as soon as possible to follow up. Okay?"

"Okay." For some reason she couldn't fathom, she was even closer to tears than she had been before, as he adjusted the sling into which he guided her arm.

"Tell me if it gets uncomfortable." He adjusted the strap, and looked at her. "Good?"

"Yes, thank you." 

He helped her off the bed again, and said, as she turned to leave, "I'll check on you when my shift is over, okay?"

Dawn looked him in the eye for the second time, and nodded.

By the end of his second shift, Scott was ready to tear out of the hospital to see Dawn, but something told him he'd be better off calling first. After all, he wasn't her doctor, and she had been in sufficient pain that his unexpected and probably unwanted appearance might push her further away from him. On his way to his car, therefore, he consulted the piece of paper on which he had recorded her phone number and address, and dialed her number. Just when he thought he'd have to leave a message, she picked up.

"This is Dawn," she said, her voice low and husky with pain.

"Hi, this is Scott," he told her. "I'm checking in as promised. How are you feeling? You don't sound so good." He let his concern sound in his voice.

There was silence on the other end, and then she said, her voice stronger, more determined, "I'm fine. Thanks for calling, but I have to go now."

"Dawn," he interrupted her retreat, "why lie to me? I heard you when you answered, and I saw how much pain you were in today. Do you have anyone to help you? You can't use your arm for a few days, at least, you know."

"My neighbor is just next door," she informed him, her voice cool. There was a sound of rattling, and then a crash on the line. 

"What was that?" he demanded, and when she hesitated, he grew insistent. "What was that, Dawn?"

"Something fell," she admitted, her voice low, as though to hide from him.

"I'm coming over!" he said, knowing he was probably going to make things worse, but suddenly not caring. He hung up, not waiting for her denial, and put her address in his GPS reader. She lived a half hour from the hospital, and when he finally parked in front of her home, in a cul de sac, he found he needed to steady himself before leaving the car. He was here as a doctor, and he had to remember that. He admitted, though, as he applied the old fashioned knocker to the door, that he was lying to himself. When Dawn opened the door, her face a mask of pain, he had to restrain himself from scooping her up in a protective embrace.

"May I come in?" he asked. "You don't look fine."

"You shouldn't be here," she said, not moving from the door.

"But I am," he replied, "so why not let me in?"

"I don't know you," she tried again, her stance determined.

"Yes, you do," he insisted. "You know my name, where I work, and what I enjoy reading." His voice had changed at the end, and he swallowed before continuing. "Please let me in. I'm just here to check on you, nothing more." He spoke the lie smoothly, knowing that if she gave him even the smallest sign, he would do more than care for her arm.

She swayed slightly, and it was all he could manage not to reach for her to steady her. He needed her to let him in without any further coercion on his part. When she finally moved out of the doorway, he breathed a sigh of relief and walked past her into a quiet front hall, with a floor-to-ceiling mirror, a coat rack and umbrella stand, and a bench of polished oak. He stood quietly while she closed the door and turned away to a room on her right. 

"This way," she said grudgingly over her shoulder, and walked away.

Scott followed her and found himself in a spacious living room, with large comfortable furniture, a fireplace, and a large picture window that let in the afternoon light.

"Please sit down." She gestured to the large leather couch with the brightly-colored throw pillows, but chose the upright hard-backed chair for herself. He ignored her offer and went to her, touching a hand to her forehead, and then two fingers to her pulse.

"Have you filled the prescription as yet?" he asked. When she nodded, he continued, "And have you taken any of them?"

When she hesitated, he repeated his question and her lowered eyes gave him his answer. He sighed. "So, is it against your religion to take pain medication?" She glared at him, and he smiled. "Where are they?"

She continued to give him the evil eye for a minute, and when she saw that he merely waited, and seemed prepared to continue to do so for as long as he needed to, she told him. Instructing her to stay put, he went in search of her kitchen, found the pills on the counter, and shaking two into his palm, took them with a glass of water back to her. 

"Here," he said, putting the pills to her lips. It was an intimate gesture, and they both knew it, but she had no choice, and when he put the glass to her lips, she took a sip.

"Drink it all!" he instructed her, and held the glass to her lips till it was empty.

"What fell?" he asked, placing the empty glass on the table next to her chair. When she did not reply, he crouched in front of her and waited till she looked into his eyes. "Were you moving boxes one-handed?" A flash of something that he read as guilt came and went in her eyes before she lowered them, and he shook his head, wishing he could shake her. He stood up and moved away from her instead, because the sight of her in the thin cotton dress with the scooped-out neckline and the hem that rode up her legs had finally penetrated, and he was no longer in doctor mode. It was better for both of them if he wasn't close enough to touch her.

He noticed, for the first time, that there were boxes in the living room. "Are you moving in or out?" he asked, curious.

"Out," she answered shortly.

"Where to?" he wanted to know.

"The country."

As she offered nothing more, and he sensed she was closing herself off to him again, he didn't press the matter. Instead, he went back to being the pragmatic helper, feeling the weight of his exhaustion beginning to settle on him.

"You need to have someone here with you for the next few days to do the packing and lifting," he said. "Will your neighbor be able to handle that?"

She nodded, and just then, there was another knock on the door. "Stay," he said to her, but she ignored him, rising and moving past him to get to her door. He was there when she opened it, and the tall broad-shouldered man who looked in set his heart bumping against his chest. Who was this, and why was he here? Was she married? What...?

"Jeff, this is Dr. McCallum. Dr. McCallum, this is my neighbor, Jeff Markham." 

He shook the man's hand, wondering if he had misheard her when she had said her neighbor was a woman. 

"His wife Dana took me in to the hospital this morning," she said, moving back into the living room, and answering his unspoken question. His heart rate slowed, though he did wonder why Jeff Markham was there. Could it be that the man was protecting her from him? 

"Nice of you to make a house call, doc," the man said, addressing him quietly, his stare direct and coolly assessing.

"I told Dawn I'd check on her when my shift was done," he said, watching the man's face. He saw the mistrust, and the determination to wait till he chose to leave. Scott felt a irrational surge of jealousy that this man was welcomed into Dawn's home while he was treated like an unwanted intruder. He ignored his rioting emotions, and said, moving back toward the front door,

"She just took two pills for pain. Make sure she takes two every four to six hours." At the front door, his hand on the handle, he turned and added, "And please make sure she doesn't try to shift any more boxes for the next few days."

Scott didn't look at Dawn as he opened the door and walked out. He didn't look back as he got into his car and drove off. He made it home in forty-five minutes, dragged his weary body into the shower, and was in bed within half an hour. His erection was a pain he ignored for the first time, his anger a harder presence in his gut. He needed to forget her, and he would. It took him an hour to fall into a fitful sleep. 

For three days, Dawn did nothing more than write, sleep, wash herself, and eat. She had to be out of the house in two weeks, and she knew she needed to get a move on with the packing. The pain was decreasing, and she felt calm and rested. She dictated her stories into the little device that would then transfer it into writing on her laptop, so she kept herself busy, but her mind kept wandering back to Scott, and the way he had left her. She knew he had been angry, and perhaps humiliated by Jeff's arrival and treatment of him, and she knew she had let it happen because he unsettled her. She was upset with him for putting her in this position, and with herself for letting it happen.

She knew, somehow, that Scott would withdraw now, and she would neither see nor hear from him again. Why that bothered her, instead of pleasing her, she didn't know. She assumed it was because by nature she was a peacemaker, and the way he had left didn't sit well with her. It made her feel dirty, and mean. She felt the anger rise in her. Scott had completely disturbed her, and she didn't like it one bit. Nor did she like that she felt drawn to him. This could not happen. But she knew she had to make amends for last time.

She had already looked up the number for the hospital, so she dialed it and waited, asking to speak to him, and being shunted from place to place until his voice sounded on the line.

"McCallum!"

Dawn hesitated, and he said again, impatiently, "This is Scott McCallum!"

"Hi, Scott, it's Dawn," she said, hurrying before he hung up in disgust.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before he answered her, and when he did, his voice was cool and distant. "How can I help you? Has the arm gotten worse? Are you still in pain? Have you seen your own doctor?"

Dawn felt her face heat at the coldness of his inquiries. Was this the same guy who had been all over her a few days ago? The change was marked. She made haste to answer his concerns.

"My arm is doing better, thank you. That's not why I called." She paused, and took a breath before continuing. "I wanted to apologize for the other day." She stopped again, wishing she were anywhere but there. "I shouldn't have let you leave like that. Jeff didn't mean anything. He was just concerned..." Her voice trailed off, and still he didn't speak. "Anyway, please accept my apology."

Another long pause, and then he said, "On one condition. But I can't say it now...I need to free up the line. I'll call at the end of my shift."

Dawn heard the sharp click that told her he had hung up on her, and she wasn't sure whether to be relieved or irritated. She put the receiver back in the cradle quietly, and went back to her writing. She stopped for lunch, glad that she was able to use her arm a bit more. She rested it out of the sling, and remembered to take her pain meds, which her own doctor had re-ordered for her. She had a feeling she would be seeing Scott again, and she didn't want him feeding her her pills a second time.

She answered the phone rather absent-mindedly a few hours later, and his voice made her toes curl. 

"Hi. It's Scott!" As if she needed to be told! "I'll forgive you if you invite me over for coffee."

Dawn smiled. She knew why he hadn't asked her out again, and why he was insisting that she invite him over. He was making sure that the next time he was in her house, it was because she wanted him there. She couldn't blame him, she knew.

"Okay. I don't know when..."

He interrupted her. "I'm off tomorrow and Sunday," he said. "So whichever day is better for you is fine with me."

She thought for a moment and then said, "Tomorrow afternoon would be fine. Is two okay?"

"Two tomorrow is fine," he said. "I'll see you then."

Again he hung up before she could respond, and this time she let herself feel the pinch of annoyance. She understood he was upset, but he could take his annoyance to the extreme. It wasn't as though they were friends or lovers, so what was his problem? She slammed the phone a bit harder this time, and set about looking after her evening meal. She couldn't dismiss him from her thoughts as easily, though, and by the time she was ready for bed, her head was full of visions of him from their brief encounters.

Scott woke up in the middle of the night so hard he ached. He went to get a beer, and sat on his long leather sofa, wishing he had the woman to whom the erection belonged there where he could work off his lusts on her. She had surprised him by calling to apologize, and he had had to struggle not to let her know how it affected him. He wasn't a pushover, and he wasn't planning on starting to be one now. But the sound of her voice had jerked him awake, and for the rest of his shift he had been aroused. And when he had called to state his condition, her voice had had him so hard he had needed to adjust himself before getting into his car for the long ride home. Now here he was, hours before he was to see her again, steel hard and hurting. 

He knew he couldn't call her at this hour, so he did the next best thing. He went to her site, and read her newest story, knowing what it would do to him. By the end, he was leaking precum all over the place, and throbbing with lust. He'd have to take a cold shower soon...

By one o'clock the next afternoon, he had done his laundry and shopped for food. The cleaning would need to wait till after he saw Dawn. He had bought a bouquet of peonies which he took with him out to the car, dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt. The drive to her home from his was long, but he arrived with a good five minutes to spare. He hoped she didn't mind.

The first knock had her opening the door to him, and she ushered him in with a tentative smile.

"These are for you," he said, handing her the bouquet. She put the blooms to her nose as she walked ahead of him into the kitchen, and he watched her reach for the vase above her on the top of the shelf. "Let me," he offered, and reached above her to retrieve the tall glass receptacle. He put it under the tap, turned the water off when she said so, and placed it on the counter so she could arrange the flowers to her satisfaction in it. She asked him to get the plant food, which she stored under the window ledge by the sink, and after squirting a few drops into the water, she asked him to place the vase on the center of her coffee table. She moved the small flat bowl that was sitting on it to a side table.

The smell of coffee wafted out to them and she invited him back to the kitchen to share the cup of forgiveness with her.

"Cream? Sugar? Help yourself," she said, pointing to the fixings on the table between them. She added cream and one sugar to her coffee mug, and Scott added cream and stirred.

"No sugar?" she wondered, watching his hand on the spoon.

"Watching my calories," he said laughingly. 

Dawn stared openly at him, wondering what he was worried about. She looked down at herself and frowned, and he asked immediately,

"Why the frown? What's the matter?"

Dawn felt the heat rise in her face, and said, her eyes on her cup, "Nothing."

He smiled, and she knew he knew she was lying, but he said nothing, and only sipped his coffee and looked around him. She was proud of this kitchen, and planned to reproduce it in the new place she was moving to in a week's time. She was mostly packed up, except for the few things she still used. She would start moving her things on Monday, but the big move was planned for the following Saturday, when Jeff could drive the truck for her on his day off, and Dana, his wife, could go up with her in the car. 

"So, where are you moving to?" he asked, out of the blue, as though he had been reading her thoughts.

"Sunnydale Farms," she answered. "It is a working farming community, but they have expanded their horizons to include an artists' colony, to make money from tourism for the things they'd like to keep...the museum they're building, new teachers for the schools, an extension to the library to house the Internet café, stuff like that. I managed to get one of the few remaining houses in the development. It's one of the smaller ones, but I quite like it."

"Sounds like a lovely haven," he commented, draining his cup. "May I have another?"

"Of course!" she said at once, and reached for the coffee pot. Their hands collided, and Dawn made an effort to retreat, but was too slow. Scott gripped her fingers and tugged until he had her hand in his.




May to December



"You have such soft skin," he said, studying her hand as though it had the answer to the world's mysteries engraved on it. His thumb began to stroke along the knuckles, almost absently, while he poured his second cup, added cream, and stirred. He decided that he would go for broke, even in a small way. He needed to know this woman, and he knew she would continue to resist him unless he did something decisive.

"I'll come by and help you pack tomorrow, if you need help." he offered, still holding her hand and stroking. "I don't think you should be putting so much strain on your arm yet. It hasn't been a week." He used his doctor's voice, hoping she would hear a matter-of-fact tone, and not one laced with unrestrained lust and need. "What did your doctor tell you?"

Dawn struggled to keep her breathing even, his big man's hand making her want to moan from the heat that enveloped her. And his stroking thumb was driving her wild. She fought for a breath, then huffed it out and answered him.

"What you just said." Oh great, she was practically incoherent with the very man she didn't want to know how he much affected her! 

"So, tomorrow then? Shall I come earlier, this time? So you can rest in the evening after I've gone again?"

She knew what he was doing. And despite her best efforts not to, she smiled.

"I know what you're doing, you know," she said, finally giving up the struggle to be normal around him. There was no normal where he was concerned, it seemed, only a mad dash headlong into confused emotions and desires. 

"And what is that?" he wanted to know, an answering smile dimpling his cheeks.

"You're being rational and collected so I can invite you over again. You don't really want to help me pack up for moving."

He chuckled, a deep, stirring sound that made her damp panties -- when the hell had that happened? -- dampen further.

"Actually, I do want to help you pack. As to your accusation, perhaps you're right." He raised her knuckles to his lips, and kissed them, his lips dry and warm against her heated skin. "Is it working? The rationality and collectedness, I mean?"

His eyes danced merrily with amusement, and she burst into delighted laughter, forgetting her need to keep him at arm's length.

"I suppose it is," she conceded with a smile. 

"So then, what time tomorrow?" He still held her hand, his coffee forgotten. Hers was cold, and she didn't care. She couldn't just then, as he slid his fingers between hers, making her gasp as though he had touched her most intimate places.

"Around ten would be good," she said breathily, wondering how he could remain so calm in the face of the electricity that charged the air between them.

"Ten it is, then," he said, and smiled again. "You are a beautiful woman, Dawn, and when you relax, you are breathtaking!"

A knock at the door saved her from having to find something comprehensible to say in answer to that comment, and it saved her from his intimate hold on her. She rushed from the table, almost toppling her chair, and opened her front door with a rapidly beating heart. Jeff stood there again, and she ushered him in before recalling what had happened the last time he had visited. Moving ahead of him, she led him into the living room, and offered him a seat.

"I'll be with you in a minute," she said, and hurried back to the kitchen in time to see Scott rinsing their coffee cups and putting them to drain in the dishwasher. Something in her chest shifted, and she had to swallow the overwhelming urge to weep so that she could speak to him.

"Care to join me in the living room? Jeff is here."

Scott turned slowly and looked into her eyes, and she stared back, holding the contact and praying he would see that she was not pushing him away in favor of her neighbor this time. His eyes warmed, and he nodded and followed her, taking the seat she gestured to, across from Jeff.

"Doc," Jeff said, sitting up, his eyes speculative. "What brings you over today?"

Scott smiled, his answer calm and slow, "Coffee."

Dawn had to bite back the grin that threatened to break free, as she listened to the men spar. The more she got to know Scott, the more she felt safe to relax with him. She could see that Jeff was nonplussed by his answer, and she wondered what he was thinking.

"Coffee?" 

"Yes," Scott replied. "Dawn makes some of the best I've ever tasted." He turned to face her, and added, "Thanks for the invitation, by the way," and winked at her.

Holding back her laughter was more difficult this time, but she managed it, and smiled instead. "You're welcome!"

"So, I'll see you tomorrow morning, then?" His next question she knew was entirely for Jeff's benefit. When she nodded, he continued, "Shall I bring more boxes?"

"No, thanks, I have enough!"

Scott stood up, and walked toward the door. "Well then, I think I'll be on my way! Have a good afternoon, love!" Dawn shivered at the intonation of the endearment, this time said only for her, as if he had forgotten that Jeff was in the room. And then, as though he suddenly remembered, he turned to Jeff and said, a cool smile on his face, "Nice to see you again!"

Dawn walked with him to the door, and went ahead of him to open it, but he stopped her. 

"Thanks for the coffee, Dawn! I wasn't kidding. It's some of the best I've ever had!"

"Thank you, and you're welcome!" She smiled, completely relaxed for the first time since they had met.

"Oh, and apology accepted!" He winked again and opened the door, then completely surprised her by kissing her cheek before walking out to his car. 

The next morning, Scott was back exactly at ten and Dawn let him in with a smile. 

"Good morning!" She walked ahead of him into the kitchen again, and when he joined her, she was just flipping pancakes.

"I figured I'd better feed you before we begin," she said by way of explanation. "I hope you like pancakes."

Scott smiled. "If you made them, I'm sure I'll love them," he said, and was surprised that he meant it, too. He felt inexplicably drawn to this woman, and if only for today, he wasn't going to fight the feelings coursing through his system as he watched her pile a plate high, dab some butter on the top and sides, and place it on the placemat in front of him. 

"Have a seat, and help yourself to syrup. I have three kinds, as you can see." She made a smaller serving for herself, and sat across from him, reaching for the strawberry syrup at the same time as he did. The shock was palpable this time, and he took her hand in both of his.

"We have to stop meeting like this," he said, his voice husky, his eyes hot as he stared into hers, refusing to let her look away. "Good morning, beautiful!" he added, and planted a warm kiss in the center of her palm before letting her have her hand back. Then, as she watched in a daze, he calmly smothered his pancakes in syrup before asking if she wanted him to pour for her. 

"No, that's okay, thanks," she said and waited for him to put the jar down before picking it up herself. She didn't miss the satisfied smirk that came and went on his face, but she was too busy trying to steady her hands to pour the syrup to care.

"You're not American, are you?" she asked, after a comfortable silence.

He swallowed the food in his mouth before answering. "No, I'm not." He stopped and looked up. "Any chance of more coffee today?" he wondered.

"Oh, sure!" Dawn got up to get him a mug, but he forestalled her. 

"Just point me in the right direction," he told her. Soon he was pouring coffee for them both, and then he took his seat again and added cream.

"So, where are you from? Or is it a secret that, if you tell me, you'll have to kill me?" Dawn continued, sipping her sweet brew with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

Scott laughed, the sound reaching inside her and warming her. "I'm Australian," he answered. 

"You don't sound the way I think Aussies do," she admitted. "Why are you here instead of there/?" She put another forkful of pancake into her mouth and waited. Just when she was about to apologize for being nosy, he answered.

"I came to med school here, and am staying for a few years. Then I'll go back home."

"How long will you be staying?" she wanted to know next, not sure why the answer was important to her.

"Maybe another two years or so," he answered. "I have a visa for that long. I would need to renew it if I wanted to stay longer. I may not stay the full term, though."

Dawn wanted to ask why, but felt that her inquisition had become far more personal than she had intended, so she bit back the question and finished her pancakes. She watched him polish off the stack she had given him, and when she offered him more, he didn't refuse. She marveled at his appetite, and then recalled his age. That reminder sobered her, and by the time he was done eating, she had retreated behind the wall of cool reserve. He had come to help her pack, and that's what they'd do...

She shooed him away from the sink, and asked him to start on the shelves in her office, across the hall from the living room. She couldn't handle the intimacy implied by his doing the dishes, and she knew she could better keep her walls in place if she had some time to regroup alone. By the time she had washed and stacked the breakfast things, stored the rest of the pancakes away and cleaned the counter, she was fully in control, and ready to face him. 

He had finished packing one box and was halfway through a second by the time she appeared in the doorway. She found herself admiring his tall, lean body, and switched her thoughts to admiring his ability to work without direction. She supposed as a doctor he needed to be an independent thinker, and it was not really a surprise. She picked up another box and began working on the shelf across the room from him. By noon her office was packed up, except for her laptop, which she would be taking with her in the car.

"Where to next?" he asked, stacking the last of the labeled office boxes by the door.

"The basement is a bit of a mess," she said, and turned to lead him down to it. The space was large, finished, and airy, but she was right, it was a mess. Everything she had never used, or had discarded but not thrown out, was there. It needed to be sorted, as she knew she wasn't taking everything in it with her. She knew she was a bit of a pack rat, but no one ever knew that until they ventured into her basement.

She turned embarrassed eyes to his chin, unable to look higher, but was spared the need to say much by way of explanation when he said cheerfully,

"Just tell me what you need me to do," and smiled.

Dawn looked around her, feeling lost for a moment, and then she squared her shoulders and made a decision.

"Can you find all the books that are lying around, please? Put them in one space so I can decide which to throw out and which to give away. Some of them have mold from the last place I lived in, and..."

"You should have thrown them out immediately!" he snapped, startling her into looking into his face. He was angry, but she could have sworn she saw fear for a second.

"It's okay. I am hardly ever down here," she explained, trying to placate him, and soothe his obviously ruffled feathers.

"You're missing the point!" he said, bearing down on her where she stood by the stairs. "The spores can travel though the air, and you could have been sickened by them. Who knows, you may have been, and thought it was something else."

Dawn tried not to smile at his outraged tone. He was highly upset with her for keeping a few moldy books in her basement. Her determination to remain aloof was being seriously undermined by this new twist in their connection -- she refused to call it a relationship. She turned away, and said, to show she took his concern seriously,

"Do you need gloves? Or do you want to do something else? I mean, I don't want you to get sick from helping me clean up."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, she noted, as he glared at her fiercely and turned away, saying sharply over his shoulder, 

"A dust mask for each of us would be useful!" 

Dawn resisted the urge to say "Yes, Master!" facetiously, and instead retrieved two dust masks and handed one to him. He took it without touching her, put it on, and got to work, ignoring her completely. Miffed at his mood, and upset with herself for her reaction to him, she set about sorting through the clothes that were piled up on two sofas. Most of them she knew would need to be laundered before they could be donated, but there were one or two items that she wanted to keep. By the time Scott was done sorting the good books and the moldy ones, she also had two piles, and was making the first load in the washing machine which was in a room adjoining the boiler room. When she came out, he was nowhere to be seen.

Hearing a sound upstairs, she turned in time to see him coming down with large garbage bags in his hands. 

"Do you need one?" he asked coolly.

"Not yet. I'm not throwing out the clothes, I'm donating most of them. But they need to be washed first."

He turned away and began to bag the moldy books, again completely ignoring her. Deciding she would leave him to it, she went upstairs and tried to think what to prepare for a late lunch, before she sent him on his way. She had some leftover elbow macaroni and tuna salad, so she decided to make a cold pasta salad. When he walked upstairs and went to wash his hands in the sink, she lay the table, and asked him whether he preferred juice or a soda or water with his meal.

"Whatever you're having," he said, drying his hands and going to sit in the same chair he had occupied a few hours earlier.

Dawn poured them cranberry-grape juice, and then invited him to help himself. He served her plate as well, and she wondered who his mother was. She had certainly raised a considerate man, and she could be justifiably proud of him. 

"Thank you for coming to help me today," she said, glancing at him before returning her eyes to her food. "It was very kind of you, especially given the circumstances."

He cocked his head, looking quizzically at her. "Circumstances?"

"You know..." She struggled to keep from blushing. "I wasn't exactly welcoming the first two times we met."

Scott watched her face warm with color, and felt a tug on his heart. She was such a bundle of contradictions, and he wished he knew what made her so wary of men. He also wished he could eradicate from her mind the age difference between them. It didn't bother him that she was much older than he was. He found her fascinating, sexy, and more desirable than any other woman. He wanted her. The hard-ons he struggled with at night in his bed were testament to that fact. The one he was fighting with even now was clear proof of her hold over him.

"I believe we covered the past yesterday," he said, draining his glass. "Let's not rehash it. It's over. I came today because I wanted to spend time with you, because I wanted to get to know you a bit better, because I wanted you to get to know me a bit better." He poured himself another half glass of juice, and added, "I won't apologize for wanting to be here, or for wanting to know you better."

Dawn didn't know how to respond to his words, so she held her peace and finished her lunch. 

"I'm back in the saddle tomorrow, but if you need me for anything, please let me know. Oh, and this is my cell phone number...they rather frown on personal calls being taken by hospital staff on the institution's phones." He extracted his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a business card. Scott Peter McCallum, M.D., it said, and gave his cell phone number as well as the places where he worked and their numbers.

"Thank you," she said, taking it and putting it in the coupon sleeve that was lying on the table. "I'll put it away properly when..." She stopped and watched him smile.

"When?" he prompted, smirking wickedly at her.

"Nothing. I'll put it away later." His eyes sparkled with amusement, but Dawn refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she rose from the table and began to clear it, hoping he would not interfere, and let her have these moments of mundanity to settle her suddenly jangling-again nerves. He was entirely unexpected, one minute teasing her, another miffed at her, the next tender, then seductive. She was never prepared for what he would throw at her, and she didn't like feeling so off balance. She suspected that he did it deliberately, and recognized that despite his years, he was very mature and experienced in dealing with women.

Why that thought should rattle her so she couldn't tell, and she refused to examine it while he was in the room with her, reading her actions and her words. She stacked the dishwasher and then turned to find him watching her intently, his face serious, his eyes unreadable.

"What?" she asked, and could have bitten out her tongue. The last thing she wanted to know was why he was so interested in her. If she intended to preserve a safe, impersonal space between them, she couldn't ask such questions. She sighed when his answer confirmed her fears.

"You are so skittish around me. If I were a writer, I'd compare you to a colt with its new trainer. I won't hurt you, you know. All you would need to do, if I did, was to report me at the hospital."

Her shoulders relaxed as it occurred to her that he was right. And anyway, she had always been a fairly good judge of character, and based on their few interactions, he was a good sort, if highly sexual. She couldn't help him with that, no matter how much she might want to...the admission stopped her cold, and she blushed furiously, as though she had said the words aloud. She was mortified to know that she wanted him too, after all her denials. She hurried past him out to the living room, hoping to get her color under control before he caught up with her.

The phone rang, and she answered it, grateful for the respite from her thoughts and from him that it provided.

"Hi, Jeff! No, I didn't. I'm sorry. Sure, you can come get it now, as a matter of fact. I was just in the basement cleaning today, and it's down there. Okay. See you in a bit."

She hung up and turned to find Scott right behind her. She went to step past him, but he touched her arm, asking, "What do you need down there?"

"I borrowed Jeff's wrench a couple of weeks ago, and never returned it. He needs it now...he's doing man things with pipes in his kitchen."

"I'll get it. Just tell me where to look. I expect Jeff will be here in a minute." 

"It's right next to the washing machine, in the room next to the boiler room. You can't miss it."

He shocked her by dropping a tender peck on her cheek before going to get the wrench. Almost as soon as he disappeared down the stairs, the knocker sounded, and she went to let Jeff in.

"Come in, Jeff. Scott went to get it for me."

Jeff eyed her speculatively. "Scott? What's he doing here again?

Dawn bit back the smile that rose to her cheeks. Jeff was very much in love with his wife, but he treated Dawn like the little sister whom he had to protect from the wolves of the world, even though she was five years his senior.

"He came to help me pack." She wanted to add more, but just then Scott walked back into the room, and handed the tool to Jeff. 

"Thanks, man!" He smiled for the first time at Scott, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, and asked her, "Are we still on for Saturday, then?"

Again Dawn had to stifle a chuckle. He was deliberately trying to goad Scott, and she wanted to swat him at the same time that she wanted to laugh.

"Sure. You'll drive the truck, and Dana will go up with me in the car, right?"

Jeff nodded. "Right. Well then, I'd better get back to repairs. See you later." She walked her neighbor to the door, and closed it softly behind him before inhaling deeply and returning to the living room.