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I Want To Be In Love

By: HLD



This story is the sequel to "Some Things Are Meant to Be". It picks up right around the end of that story, so you may want to read that one first. If you're looking for quickie sex, this is probably the wrong story for you. This continuation of Melanie and Kevin's tale is inspired and takes its title from the Melissa Etheridge song of the same name. Thanks to my editor, michchick98. I hope you enjoy!

*********** 

"I'll see you around, Kevin," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I reached out and squeezed his hand as if to say, "I'm sorry," then turned and walked away.

Trying to keep my gait firm and deliberate, I walked through the airport as if I had blinders on. I didn't want anyone—especially Kevin—to see me like this. I didn't have any checked baggage and went straight to the parking garage. Once I stowed my carry-on suitcase in the trunk of my car, I got in, started the engine, then leaned my forehead against the steering wheel and began to cry.

I don't know what brought this fit on. 

No, that's not quite right. I do know.

It was Kevin Westcott. Or rather, it was the last three days I had spent with an old friend from high school. Everything had been perfect. He was cute and kind. There was romance and passion. All of the cares of my life melted away. There was just him: with his goofy smile, puppy dog eyes and the promise of safety and security and love.

When we were in high school together, none of the girls—myself included—ever looked at him seriously as boyfriend material. I guess we were all too into the "bad boys" of the school. Kevin was never a bad boy. He was squeaky clean, and not because he was uptight or anything.

He didn't drink or do drugs or get tattoos or skip class. If you ever asked him why he never did anything that was bad, he would tell you simply, "Because that's not right."

Right and wrong. He knew the difference and he never thought to do anything other than what was right. I didn't recognise it in him when we were younger and after graduation he never really crossed my mind again, to tell the truth. Every now and then, his name would come up when reminiscing with a mutual friend, and that was usually followed with, "What ever happened to him?"

I'll tell you what happened: In short, Kevin Westcott became a keeper. 

He was one of the nerdy kids in high school. We all knew he would make something of himself; he was too smart not to. While he wasn't terribly motivated, he never seemed like he ever truly applied himself. Yet, he still got a 31 on his ACT and made A's with very little effort. He could have given me and Ajay Patel a run for valedictorian if he had wanted to. I, on the other hand, studied a lot. Probably more than I needed to, but things seemed to come far more naturally to him than me.

Of all the kids I graduated with, Kevin was the most enigmatic. I don't think he kissed a girl until our senior year. He couldn't talk to any of us socially. And he was above dumbing himself down just to try and fit in. He was tall and skinny. Average-looking. Unathletic and clumsy. He moved awkwardly as if he wasn't quite used to the way his body was built. He was certainly smart and a boon to anyone who ever needed a partner for a group project. But none of us thought of him as anything other than a schoolmate.

When we met again almost eighteen years after graduation, he had filled out nicely. He put on a little bit of weight; it was just enough to add some meat to his bones, but not too much. His face was still boyishly handsome and he maintained sandy blonde hair with very little grey. He had a new confidence about him and that was very appealing.

Maybe it was just me being shortsighted, but Kevin was one of those boys you wanted to marry, but never wanted to date. He promised security and stability, and at 18, I foolishly wanted a guy who got my motor running. I never thought of him as exciting because we ran in different crowds. Mine was the cheerleaders and pretty people; his was the Dungeons & Dragons and computer club nerds.

Our last three days together had been magical. Maybe it was because we were both trapped in a snowbound airport with no other familiar company. Maybe it was because we were both in a single place in our lives. Or maybe my eyes were just opened.

Those three days with Kevin flipped a switch within me. He stirred passions I hadn't felt in a long time. Certainly not with my ex-husband.

I could tell he was in love with me. I think he had been since high school. It would have been very easy to fall for him. He was a little plain, but still handsome. He was employed; well kind-of employed, but he was financially stable. He treated me like a princess. He is still one of the ten smartest people I know. He's funny and self-deprecating. And when we made love, he made me scream with pleasure and spent all night cuddling.

That's why I had to walk away from him.

Kevin was too good of a guy for me just to use and throw away. Because that's what I would have done to him. I probably could have gotten him to marry me, buy me a big house in the suburbs and sucked him dry if I had wanted.

But I couldn't do that to him. Not that way.

In the last year, I've gotten a divorce, been laid off my job, lost my house, and moved my kids across three states to live with my parents. I was a wreck in all possible ways: mentally, emotionally, financially and even physically.

I was in no condition to start a relationship, and I knew it. I prayed that Kevin knew it too. He looked heartbroken when we shared our last kiss. That's why I had to leave him standing there in an airport full of people. It was for the best.

At least that's what I told myself.

So there I sat in my car, bawling like a baby. I had turned my back on what could have been the best thing to ever happen to me.

When the tears stopped, I wiped my eyes, tried my best to put on a smile and drove home.

Home. It seemed so familiar, yet so different.

It was the house where I spent the bulk of my years growing up. We moved in when I was six and my parents started teaching at the university. It's a big house with four bedrooms and more than enough space for anyone who wanted to live under its roof. My brother was long gone; his job with an aerospace company seemed to be weathering the plunging economy well. In some ways, the war in Iraq was a boon to his work designing and building laser guidance systems for missiles.

Now it was my folks, me and my two children, Toby and Emily. When I came crawling back to them, practically begging for a place to live, they threw open their doors without comment or complaint, although I felt that on some level they were disappointed.

After all, for the previous decade, I was the successful one. My career in commercial lending was lucrative and glamourous. My husband and I drove BMWs and had a big house of our own. We did all the things we were supposed to: travelled with the kids, had a nanny to watch them and lived the high life. Then it all came crashing down.

We were in a house that was more than we could afford. The divorce nearly wiped me out. I don't think my ex-husband ever cheated on me, although he very quickly found comfort in the arms of a red-headed secretary with big tits who was ten years his junior. I managed to avoid paying palimony by getting laid off. 

The housing market imploded and all of our savings were exhausted when we were forced to sell the house at a loss; neither of us wanted to buy the other out, so we sold it and both of us started over. I took my kids home to my parents; he comes to town for one weekend a month and they spend summers with him.

I've been looking for a job, but I haven't had much luck. A couple of companies have made offers, but none have panned out. Either they were offering me a pittance of what I was making before or they wanted me to re-locate or travel. I know I shouldn't be picky, but I never thought things would be as bad as they are.

My most recent trip was turning out to be the final straw. A company on the west coast offered me a job, but the cost of living out there is still way too high for what they were offering. So on a cold January day, I was headed home before getting side-tracked by a freak blizzard that shut down nearly every airport on the east coast from Atlanta to Bangor.

And that's when Kevin Westcott turned my life upside down.

I tried to push thoughts of him from my mind as I drove home. Pulling into the driveway, I saw the lights inside were still on. I parked my car in the spare spot next to the garage and went inside.

Just as I opened the door, my son Toby rushed into my arms. I picked him up and spun him around, both of us giggling. Emily, my daughter, was always a little more reserved, but she still gave me a warm hug. 

These two children are the reason why I do everything. I held them tight even as my parents came out to greet me.

We speak English around them, although Mother and Father both think they should be taught Japanese, too. Everyone asked about the trip and what I had done over the extra two days I was away. I deflected questions from the children and my father, but my mother instantly knew something was up. I only hope my own matronly intuition is half as keen when it comes to dealing with my children. She would never say anything to me, especially not in front of my father, but I knew she would ask me in private.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. I tucked the kids into bed, said good-night to my folks then went to bed myself.

As I lay there, all I could think about was Kevin's strong arms. How they held me close. How he would twitch in his sleep, but never release me from his comforting grasp. How his heartbeat sounded so close to mine. How his breath felt so warm against my skin.

I eventually fell asleep, but not before another fit of crying came over me.

What the hell were you thinking, Melanie Nakamura?

*********** 

The next month passed. I was a mess the whole time. My savings were gone. The only thing I owned outright was my car. I had a mountain of debt to pay off. I got sick; supposedly it was a winter cold, but I know it was partly due to the stress. And despite my best efforts, there were no new job offers.

But that wasn't the worst part. 

Each night, I sat in my room, Kevin's number on the screen of my cell phone. All I had to do was hit "send". Only I never did. 

What would I say? How could I approach him without seeming like I was only after him because of his money? How could I be sure I was attracted to him because of who he was, not for the things he had or what he could do for me? How could I be sure he wouldn't break my heart again?

Valentine's Day came and went. I half-expected to receive a card or gift, but none came. I didn't blame Kevin; I had been ignoring him for a month. What right did I have to expect anything from him? 

I made a vow that I would only call when I had a job. But oh, how I wanted to hear the sound of his voice! And feel him pulling me close to him.

Mother tried to get me to talk a couple of times. She inquired about my trip to San Francisco, each time taking a different angle to get me to crack. But I resisted. Until she blindsided me.

"So who did you have sex with when you came back from California?" she asked me one day. Emily was at school. We had just put Toby down for his nap.

"Mother!" I exclaimed, unable to believe the she came right out and said it.

"Tell me, Melanie," she said in a very gentle, non-judgmental way. "It's okay; you're a woman and you have needs. Who was he?"

I blushed as dark as a Japanese girl can. "An old friend from high school."

Her eyebrow went up.

"We ran into each other at the airport," I admitted, secretly happy to finally be able to talk about my romantic encounter from a month ago. "Do you remember Kevin Westcott?"

"Kevin?" Mother couldn't conceal her surprise, but she still smiled warmly. "He was always a very nice boy."

"He still is, Mother," I said, trying not to sound nervous. "He paid for our hotel room while we were there."

"What is he doing now?"

I almost told her that he was a successful computer programmer and businessman, but I didn't, instead adopting his lie. "Kevin teaches history at a community college in Virginia."

Mother covered the disappointment well; I think she was hoping that I'd meet a guy who was financially well-off. She had wanted that with my ex-husband, and the fact that I had always made more than him was disconcerting to my parents. Both my mother and father were tenured university professors; she in chemistry and he in Japanese literature. They had familiar academic prejudices against community colleges as intellectually inferior.

She didn't say anything for a few moments. "Is he going to call on you again?" 

"He has called a couple of times," I admitted. That much was true. I didn't answer the call, afraid of what I would do or say. I knew there was a chance Kevin would hate me for this, but I felt I had to weather this part of the storm myself.

"Why don't you call him?"

"Mother!"

"Why not, Melanie?" she asked with that sort of dismissive, but matronly, tone. "You're a modern woman. It's okay for you to call boys now."

I rolled my eyes. I really wanted to call Kevin back. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Not yet.

She didn't say anything else about Kevin and I was happy to let the subject drop. I spent the next two weeks chasing down more job offers and networking my heart out. My parents were happy to have me and the kids around. They played the role of doting grandparents to a T and weren't hesitant to give me some money to follow some employment leads.

When I was finally ready to give up and take the first thing that came down the pipe, even as a greeter at Wal-Mart, someone answered a resume I had posted online. I flew out to Seattle, made my pitch and hoped for the best. While I was waiting in the hotel room that night, I got a call. It wouldn't pay as much as I'd have liked, but at this point in my life, I was a beggar and I couldn't be a chooser.

My new job was out of the financial field, but that was okay. After all, an MBA and a career in banking hadn't done me any good over the last year. I was flying home when purely on impulse, I changed my travel plans.

"Hello, Kevin?" I said when his phone rang. "It's me . . . Melanie Koiz—er, . . . um, Nakamura."

"Melanie?" he sounded incredulous, as if he wasn't quite sure whether he was hallucinating or not.

"Yes . . . Listen, I'm sorry I haven't called you back earlier," I hoped he wouldn't be too pissed off at me. "I'd like to make it up to you."

"Um. . . sure," he stammered.

"Can I take you out to dinner?" I asked.

"I . . . uh, when would be good for you?" he sounded puzzled. "Hold on, someone just rang the doorbell."

It was all I could do not to jump into his arms when he opened the door. We both stood there staring at each other. Time seemed to stand still.

"Hi," I said meekly.

"Hi," was all he could reply.

"Kevin, you can hang up the phone now," I giggled. If I'd had a feather, I could have knocked him over. "Can I come in?"

He didn't immediately reply. I didn't know what I would do if he said, "No"; the cab that dropped me off was long since gone. His jaw hung open, unable to form any words. Taking the initiative, I stepped over the threshold and put my arms around him. He automatically embraced me and pulled me close.

It was all I could do not to break down and cry. In that instant, I had never felt as safe and as comfortable as I did in Kevin Westcott's arms.

"Kev, I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be," he replied. I tried to say something more, but he silenced me with a kiss. It was one of those wet, sloppy, delicious kisses that could go on for days. It wasn't hungry or desperate. Instead, it was filled with passion and—dare I say it?—love.

His arms wrapped around me and pulled me into one of his gentle bear hugs. I felt myself lifting up on my toes to reach him.

We stood there in the foyer with the front door wide open for the world to see and held each other. After several minutes, he pulled back and set me down. I smiled sheepishly as he retrieved my suitcase from his front porch, then closed the door behind him.

He seemed to be searching for something to say.

"I wanted to call you back," I answered his unasked question apologetically. "But I couldn't. Not until I had straightened a few things out."

Kevin smiled weakly. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," I replied firmly. I had to say this, if only for myself. "For the last six weeks, I've treated you like shit and you don't deserve that. But, Kevin, you have to understand this: I'm still not in a good place. Things are a little better, but I can't rush in to anything. Not right now."

"I understand," he said softly; I'm sure he meant well, but the look in his eyes told me that he didn't.

"Why don't we get something to eat?" I suggested. "My treat. We'll catch up over dinner."

He put on his best smile, but not before his self-control almost slipped.

There was a flash of hunger in his eyes. It made my heart pound. The look he gave me sent chills up and down my spine. It was as if a part of him wanted to tear my clothes off, throw me over his shoulder, take me to his bedroom and ravage my body. 

I don't think I would have stopped him.

Instead, he asked politely, "Do you need to get cleaned up?"

"No, thanks," I said and he led me through his very nice house and out to the garage. His house wasn't one of those new McMansions, but it was nice enough. He lived in an older, upscale neighbourhood. His house was probably build around the Civil War and had seen its share of upgrades and additions. I could tell he was a gadget guy and there were all sorts of electronics and other things lying around. I had to stifle a giggle; in some ways Kevin hadn't changed much since high school. Only the price of his toys had.

There were two cars in his garage. One was a Honda Accord sedan and the other was a restored Shelby Cobra 427 in candy apple red with a white racing stripe that ran down the driver's centerline. I later found out that he was also restoring a Jeep CJ7 in a shed in his back yard. We got in the Honda.

"Where would you like to go?" he asked.

"Someplace nice," I couldn't take his hand (stick shift) so I settled for wrapping myself around his arm. "Remember, I'm buying."

Kevin blushed and drove us to a little mom-and-pop seafood restaurant. They knew him by name and seated us in a romantic booth in the back. I don't remember exactly what we ordered, but the food was good and the company even better.

"So what brings you to town?" he asked, not beating around the bush.

"I got a job," I replied excitedly. "I went out to an interview and they made an offer yesterday."

"What are you going to be doing?" Kevin sounded nervous.

"Working as a translator for an electronics company that does a lot of business in Japan. They needed someone who speaks fluent Japanese and English," I frowned. "There's a lot travel involved, which is one downside, but the pay is good and I don't have a lot of options at this point."

"What company?"

"Neurodyne," I pulled out the business card of one of the managers who hired me.

"Very nice." Even though Kevin smiled, I could see the disappointment in his eyes. "They do good work. And even in this economy, they're profitable, too."

"I had hoped . . . I didn't want a job out on the west coast or one that was going to send me to Asia a lot, but not much else was panning out."

"Mel . . . if you need a job, ask me," Kevin looked hurt.

"What would you have me do?"

"My foundation can always use some help."


I Want To Be In Love



"Doing what, Kevin? I don't know anything about non-profit work," I said. He started to say something, but I held up my hand to stop him. "Kevin, I know what you're thinking. And I appreciate the gesture, but I can't work for you. Not now. This is something I have to do on my own."

"Why?" he whispered.

I took a deep breath. "Because I need to know that I can make it without someone else. Right now . . . My ex-husband and I weren't very smart with our money. We bought too many things and lived way beyond our means. I'm smarter than that; I know I am. You don't know how humiliating it is to have to tell your kids that everything they had grown up expecting has gone away. We spoiled them rotten, you know. Now . . . now I just wish I had been smarter."

Kevin gave me a hurt smile, but I knew he understood.

"We were too dependent on both our salaries," I continued. "Only I never fully realised where our money was going. We spent our money on things we didn't need and didn't save up enough for a rainy day. I just accepted that we'd have six-figure incomes for ever and ever. When he filed for divorce, neither of us considered how much it would cost us and how hard it would be to divvy up our assets when the value of our house was a fraction of what it was two years ago."

A silence fell over us until our entrees arrived. We made some more small talk; both of us wanted to avoid any serious discussion of us.

We were too full for dessert. He asked what I wanted to do; I deferred to him. He drove around for a little while but soon we ended up back in his living room.

There was a part of me that wanted to jump him right there. But he seemed cautious. I can't blame him; it's not like there were any expectations. In fact, based on the way I had treated him lately, he was probably rightfully wary of me.

"So where does that leave 'us'?" he asked finally.

I settled on to the couch next to him. Our hips were touching. Our arms intertwined.

Over the last month and a half, I had been pondering this very question. I didn't have a good answer for myself, much less for him. Still, I knew I had to come up with something. Anything less was unfair to him.

"I've missed you, Kevin," I admitted. "I've missed you every night since we were last together. And I missed . . . I didn't know how much I missed the little things you do for me. Like holding doors open and little pecks on the cheek. Kenzo—my ex—never did anything like that. And when we were together . . . you treated me so well . . . I realised that I want that."

"Then let me do those things for you," there was a pleading look in his eyes.

"There's a part of me that wants you to," I said.

"But . . ." I could see him wince. 

"But I don't know that I really wanted you or if I just like the idea of falling in love. Does that make sense?"

He nodded reluctantly.

"I'm sorry, Kevin," I said, half-expecting him to throw me out right there.

"So why did you come by tonight?" he asked after a long while.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I wanted someone to share my good news with . . . And I wanted that someone to be you."

"How'd you find me?"

"Well, Kev . . . there's this thing . . . it's call the internet . . . maybe you've heard of it . . ."

We both laughed. Kevin put his arm around me and pulled me close. He kissed me on the forehead. We sat there on the couch for a long time, neither of us speaking. After a while, we changed into night clothes then curled up under a blanket to watch TV.

I appreciated that he wasn't all over me, although a part of me would have been okay with that, too. Instead, we cuddled. His arms felt so good around me. I loved listening to his heartbeat.

Eventually, I fell asleep in his arms, drooling on his shoulder. At some point, he carried me to his bedroom. Through the haze, I felt him lay me down on his bed then spoon up behind me. His strong arms enveloped me, but he never groped my body.  

He brushed the hair out of my face, then kissed me on the cheek.

It may have been my imagination, but thought I heard him whispering to me.

"Melanie, what do I have to do to make you fall in love with me?"

*********** 

When I woke up the next morning, both of us were still fully clothed. Soft light shone through the curtains. I lay curled up with my arms wrapped around a pillow.

I blinked the sleep away and saw Kevin laying next to me. He was facing me, his eyes open. There was a longing in his gaze.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said softly. I returned his dreamy smile.

He reached out and caressed my cheek. As his hand ran over my skin with a delicate, feather-light touch, I turned and drew his index finger into my mouth. I smiled to myself as I saw Kevin close his eyes and bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Leaving a trail of soft kisses along his hand, I pulled him closer to me, until our lips were bare inches apart. 

"I missed waking up with you," I whispered. That much was true. I've always been a snuggler. I love the feeling of another person's warm body against me. In college, the best was my gay boyfriend who used to call me a "heat-seeking missile" because I almost always ended up on top of him in the middle of the night. My ex-husband wasn't much for tenderness, but my kids love to cuddle just like me.

"And I missed falling asleep with you," he said evenly. 

I missed making love with you, I thought, but the words wouldn't come out of my mouth.

As we lay there, I wondered how long he had been watching me sleep. His blue eyes were hypnotic. I could have very easily lost myself in them.

Finally, I turned and looked over at the clock. It was after ten. I never sleep in that late!

"What time do you have to go?" he asked softly. I could hear the dread in his voice.

"Not until tomorrow," I turned back and saw him at a loss for words. "I told my parents they wanted me to come back for a second interview today."

"So they don't know?"

"Nope," I snickered. "Today will be just you and me. . . . Unless you already have plans."

"I, um, nothing that I can't get out of," he stammered.

"Well, I can think of one thing you can get in to," I purred seductively.

"And what would that be?" 

"Me."

With that, I pulled him to me. Whatever else he had to say was pushed to the back of his mind. I rolled over on my back and he rolled with me.

The hunger was back in his touch. My hands tugged at his clothes until his t-shirt and boxer shorts were thrown across the room. Similarly, my nightshirt and panties disappeared.

"No, Kevin," I whimpered as he went to kiss his way down my body. "I want you inside me."

I spread my legs as my old high school friend entered me slowly. I closed my eyes and moaned. My pussy was already slick with anticipation.

He bottomed out and leaned in to kiss me. Only then did I look him in the eyes.

"I've missed this," I said softly. "Make love to me, Kevin."

Our lips met again and he slowly began to pump his cock in and out of my pussy. 

We made love long and slow that morning. His hands roamed over my body. Squeezing my breasts. Caressing my ass. Pinching my nipples.

But the best part was when he cupped my face and kissed me. He didn't force his tongue down my throat or knock his teeth against mine.

His lips were so soft and warm. He gave me a series of soft pecks, followed by a deep, juicy, soul-cleansing kiss that made my spine tingle.

All the while, his cock worked against the nub of my clit. 

My hands went to his ass and pulled him as deep inside me as he would go. I could feel his balls pressing against me.

When we could take it no more, we both came. I could feel his warmth filling my womb. His eyes fluttered and he collapsed on top of me, even as the room started to spin.

With every ounce of my being, I tried to hold on to that feeling. You know the one: There's one person in the world you want with you all the time. All you feel is bliss. Life can't get any better. And you're as close to that special someone as you can possibly be.

*********** 

"My mother knows about you." I rested my head on Kevin's shoulder. His arm was still draped around me.

"What does she know?"

"She knows that we ran into each other and spent three days holed up fucking like rabbits," I giggled.

"You didn't tell her that, did you?" The look on his face was priceless.

"Of course not, silly," I snickered. "She read between the lines. Mothers have an intuition, you know."

We hadn't left his house. The morning stretched into the afternoon. In fact, we only left his bed to shower and make a quick brunch. Then we retreated under the covers. We didn't make love again, instead savouring each others's warmth.

"Does your father know?" Kevin asked hesitantly.

"I don't think so," I replied. My dad was kind of dense. And I didn't want to bring up the subject of dating with him. Not so soon after my divorce. It was bad enough that my marriage had failed, but ending up in the arms of another guy—and a white guy at that—so soon was something I didn't even want to contemplate. "What about your parents? They saw us at the airport."

"Dad wanted to know why we never went out in high school," he said softly. "And Mom thinks I'm still in love with you."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Are you?" the words were out of my mouth before I knew I had said them.

"Yes," he blurted out.

It took me a second to look into his eyes. He didn't look embarrassed or uncomfortable. He wore his heart on his sleeve. There was no pretense about him. No games. With Kevin Westcott, what you see is what you get.

And right then, I wanted him more than anything.

Only I couldn't bring myself to tell him that.

Kevin took a deep breath. "Okay, Mel. Here are all my cards: I've been in love with you since high school. You're smart and funny. When other girls would only talk to me because they wanted me to do their homework for them, you were nice to me. You're the prettiest woman I've ever seen. When I saw you in that airport six weeks ago, I felt like I was getting a second chance."

The blood started to pound through my veins.

"I think about you every night when I go to sleep," he continued. "I miss you. I miss holding you. I miss talking to you. Hell, I even missed you grinding your teeth in your sleep. I'm thirty-six years old and single, Mel. I've spent my whole life waiting for the right girl to come along and now that I've got her, I don't want to let you go. I'm successful and can provide anything you or your kids need. I know you've got other priorities in your life, but give me a chance, Melanie. Please."  

"Oh, Kevin," I gasped and choked back the tears that came. It took me a second to gather my thoughts. When my breathing was under control, I tried to speak. "I've missed you, too. I was thinking about us the other day. Not 'us' together, but back when we were in high school. You were the one guy who was friends with all of the girls. We knew you weren't just trying to get into our pants. You're smart and handsome. But right now . . . I don't know."

"Why not?" he asked quietly.

"Because right now, I don't know that I want you for all the right reasons," I looked away, unable to bring myself to actually face the hurt in his eyes. "When we were in high school, I could have gotten any of you boys to do my homework for me. Not because I needed you to, but because I could. That's what I feel like I'm doing when I'm with you. I feel like I'm using you."

"Why, Mel?" Kevin whispered. "You're not using me if I let you."

"Because you deserve better than that," my voice started to quiver. He pulled me close. I wiped my eyes. "Kevin, I owe money to more people than I can count. Credit cards, my mortgage, my divorce lawyer . . . they're all after me. And I've got two kids; you do understand that they're part of the package, right? And then there's my ex-husband. Like it or not, I still have to deal with him, too."

I took a deep breath. 

He smiled as if he knew something I didn't. He caressed my face again and kissed my forehead. "Melanie, you always have to be in control, don't you? Everything has to make sense?"

All I could do was nod. Fearfully.

"You always have a plan. Even when your plan falls apart, you come up with a new one," he said softly. "We were always very much alike in that way."

"So what changed for you?"

"I got swept up in something bigger than me," he replied. "Part of it was hard work. Part of it was being smart. But most of it was pure, dumb luck. When Johnny and I sold the Citadel engine right out of college, there were about four other developers marketing similar programs. Our presentation was second-rate and we were nervous as hell, but on some level we appealed to the company and they picked us. When I got a chance to look at some of our competitors, they had written better programs, but somehow, we got the contract."

Kevin paused for a second. I lifted my head off his shoulder and lay on the pillow next to him. Our eyes met.

"That's how I feel about us," he continued. "I don't know how to explain it. But something put us in that airport together. Fate, karma, whatever . . . Something bigger than us. We were meant to be together, Mel; I can feel it. Not eighteen years ago, not even last year, but now. I know you're not where you want to be in your life, but maybe it means you need to look to outside yourself for the answer."

I lay there for a second, unable to refute his argument. He was right. At least about the control thing. It's one of my flaws. That's what's been so hard about my life lately; between the divorce and unemployment, I have not been in control and that bothers me. I'm used to being self-reliant. I'm accustomed to success.

And lately, my life has been one failure after another.

Still, old habits die hard. Despite his best intentions—and the fact that Kevin is actually a whole lot smarter than me—I wasn't about to give in to my emotions and run off with him on a lark.

"I'm not ready for that right now," I whispered regretfully. "Be patient with me, Kevin. I'll come around . . . just not today."

He smiled ruefully, then unloaded one of his one-liners. "If I'd wanted patience, I'd have been a doctor."

I groaned and he started to giggle childishly. I assaulted him with a shower of tickles and playful punches.

Very soon, I found myself pulled close to him. We kissed gently.

"I'm sorry for bringing you down, Kevin," I said.

"Don't be," he replied with a sigh. I guess he understood where I was in my life just then. "I am happy you came by. You've brightened up my week."

"Look at it this way," I suggested. "I'm using you for the sex."

He laughed nervously and pulled me in for one more kiss.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get a shower and then we'll get something to eat."

"What then?"

"Some friends of mine are playing at a coffee house tonight," Kevin rolled out of bed. I followed him into the bathroom. "I told them I'd stop by for a little while."

"That sounds like fun," I stepped under the warm running water. We washed each other and were soon dressed. 

All the while, I could tell that Kevin wanted to say something more. His touch was suddenly tentative. It was as if he were holding back now. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. 

I wanted to have my cake and eat it, too. We both knew it. I was basically asking him to "wait around" for me while I got my shit together. I had no right to do that to him. It wasn't fair.

It seems so . . . so . . . high school, doesn't it? Here I was, thirty-six years old and still stringing boys along. Only this time, it wasn't just any boy, it was Kevin Westcott. The one guy in our class who was not only decent to all the girls, but even good, to us . . . to me.

We went out to dinner. Neither of us spoke much. We held hands in the car.

All the while, I felt as if a wall was going up between us. It was my own damn fault, too. Was this really how I wanted my relationship with Kevin to be? 

Over and over, I asked myself the same thing. 

What are you afraid of, Melanie?

*********** 

"Can I show you something?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied.

Ever so slowly, I lowered my body on to Kevin. His cock stuck straight up in the air. My labia spread as he entered me.

I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. After several months of abstinence, having a real live cock inside me felt heavenly. That it was attached to someone who was ready to fall in love with me only made it that much better.

My pussy was slick from Kevin's considerable oral talents. If they were still awake, I'm sure his neighbours heard me praying because I called out God's name a lot. Or at least praising Kevin's technique.

When I had taken about three quarters of his length, I stopped. His eyes fluttered open. His hands went to my hips, as if to pull me all the way down on him.

"No," I said as he started to thrust his hips up. I gave his cock a good squeeze with my vaginal muscles. He smiled wickedly. "Can you feel that, Kevin? Can you feel how deep you are inside me? That's as far as Kenzo could go. He wasn't as long or as thick as you are."

Just as a man can never tell a woman how beautiful she is, a woman can never tell a man that his dick is too big. Or that any of her other lovers were smaller than him. Yeah, sometimes it may be a lie, but it still feels good to hear the words, doesn't it?

We both gasped as I lowered myself all the way down. I began to grind my hips against him.

"And that means you are in virgin territory now, Kev," I brushed the hair out of my face and smiled. "No one has ever been as deep inside me as you are right now."

"Tell me that no one else ever will," he whispered.

"Kevin, I can't—"

"Mel, you don't have to mean it," a pained look flashed across his eyes. "Just tell me."

I leaned over and kissed him. After listening to his friend play at the coffee house, we returned to his place. I was leaving in the morning. Tonight would be our last night together. For how long, neither of us knew.

He carried me to his bedroom then undressed me slowly. We took turns going down on each other before I rolled him on to his back and mounted him.

"What was that last song your friends played?" I asked. He looked confused. Kevin's friends were very talented. They played a good mix of acoustic music, from original tunes to popular songs. After the show, he introduced me. There were a few raised eyebrows, but everyone was nice and they didn't give him too much of a hard time for bringing a date. "Was it one of theirs or a cover?"

"It was a Melissa Etheridge song," he said quietly.

"You know the words." It wasn't really a question. "Sing it for me."

"In front of total strangers won't you kiss me," Kevin's voice is one of his hidden talents. He was never in the school chorus, but he really can carry a tune. "Flowers for no reason but you miss me. Oh-oh-oh—"

"I want to be in love," my voice joined in with his in an awkward harmony. 

Kevin's eyes got wide. My lips went to his and I gave him as passionate a kiss as I could muster. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close.

Finally, I pulled back, letting him see me naked and exposed for him.

His eyes predictably locked on to my chest, but his gaze managed to work its way up until we were looking into each others's eyes.

"Yes, Kevin," I knew what he was thinking. "I want to be in love with you, but I don't know . . . I'm not ready."

He brushed the hair out of my face. His eyes seemed to bore right into me. I could have fallen for him right then.

But I didn't.

I pulled his face into my chest. Partly because I knew how much he liked by breasts. Partly because if I didn't have to look him in the eyes, I could stave off my feelings for just a little bit longer.




I Want To Be In Love



"I love how your cock fills up my little pussy," I whispered in his ear. Very slowly, I began to grind my hips against him. "I love how you eat me . . . I love how your body feels against me . . ."

We quickly found our rhythm. It seemed so familiar. Every time he thrust up into me, a shiver ran through my body.

He suckled on my nipples. I reflexively pulled on his hair every time he bit my areola in a way that sent a jolt right down to my toes.

I lost myself to the pleasure Kevin brought me. I lost myself to the feeling of safety I had when I was in his arms.

My gyrations were meant to bring him to the brink of an orgasm and very soon he was there. I slowed enough to let him down, then started again. 

We made love well into the night. When my legs tired, he gently rolled me over on my back and began to slowly grind his cock against me.

His hips moved in a circular motion. Every time he ground the top of his cock against my clit, I cried out. When his lips sucked on that spot right behind my ear, I squealed with delight.

And when he could take it no more, Kevin began to pound his cock into me. My breasts jiggled with every blow.

My pussy felt like it was on fire. My excitement coated my insides and his cock. When I was full, I began to leak out on to the bed.

I'm sure his back was bleeding in several places where my fingernails dug into his skin. I howled with unabashed ecstasy as we both approached that glorious crescendo.

He cupped one of my breasts in his hand; his other was braced against the headboard to keep from driving me into the headboard.

"Oh, god, Kevin!" I screamed. "Right there . . . do it harder . . . oh, god!"

With a feral growl, Kevin drove his cock into me. My toes began to tingle. I grasped his shoulders as my entire body began to convulse.

"Cum with me!" I sobbed. Tears streamed down my cheeks. 

My last conscious thought was to arch my back so I could take as much of him inside me as I could. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to explode with pleasure.

I opened my eyes just enough to see his face contorted in an expression that was half-mad, half-bliss. A thin sheen of sweat covered his body. As well as mine.

He made one last unintelligible sound then buried himself within my swollen sex. I felt our cum mixing together. Its warmth filled me. 

Then my head began to swim. All I could hear was the blood pounding through my veins. All I could see was Kevin Westcott's handsome face as he collapsed on top of me.

His weight pressed down. It wasn't crushing. Instead, it was comforting. 

Just before I blacked out, I could barely make out his voice. It was hoarse with exertion. 

"I love you, Melanie Nakamura."

*********** 

The next morning, I once again woke up in Kevin's arms. He was spooned up behind me. One arm was draped around me, holding me tight.

I could feel his warm breath against the back of my neck. For a long time, I listened to his rhythmic inhaling and exhaling. His arms felt so strong around me.

What are you waiting for, Melanie? I thought. It would be so easy for fall for him.

After a little while, I felt him stirring. I looked over at the clock. It was a little before 7:00. Rolling over, I rested my head on his shoulder. 

Things had sure changed since high school. Eighteen years ago, I never would have dreamt that one day I would miss waking up in Kevin Westcott's arms. Or wish that I would have the courage to return his calls.

"Good morning," he said softly.

"Yes, it is," I replied with a kiss.

The two of us lay there for a long time. Not speaking. Just content to hold one another. We made love one more time before he took me to the airport and put me on a plane home.

There were tears in his eyes as we kissed right before I took my things to the security checkpoint.

"I'll call you," I promised. And this time I meant it. 

I think.

"Listen, Mel," Kevin said. "I'm going to be in town next week. Maybe we could, um . . . get together for dinner or something."

"I'd like that," I whispered. "I'll let you know what my work schedule is going to be."

With that, I turned and headed for the TSA screeners. I walked quickly and deliberately. I didn't want Kevin to see me shaking.

After I had cleared the metal detectors, I turned and looked back. Kevin hadn't moved. He meekly returned my wave, then I gathered my things and headed for the loading gates.

The trip home was miserable for me. My stomach churned. Oh, how I wanted to run back down the concourse and in to Kevin's arms!

I didn't, though. When I got home, Emily was still at school. Toby was at daycare for the afternoon. I shared the good news about my job with my mother. Both she and Father had arranged their class and office hours schedules so one of them would always be around to watch the kids if I needed them.

"You went to visit your friend again." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I did, Mother," my heart started to pound at my admission. Why are you embarrassed? It's not like you have anything to hide!

"It looks like you two had a good time," she said. "He must be very good in bed."

"Mother!" My face burned.

"Don't be shocked, Melanie," my mother's eyes twinkled. "You're practically glowing. When are you going to bring him home to meet us again?"

"Do you think Father will be angry?" I asked.

"Why would your father be angry?" One of her favourite ploys is to answer a question with a question.

"Because Kevin isn't Japanese."

"Your father will be happy as long as you're happy," Mother said firmly. "Is Kevin successful at what he does?"

I nodded.

"Are you in love with him?"

The words were in my mouth, but I couldn't bring myself to say them.

"Do you care about him?" she asked, trying another tack. I nodded again. "As long as he treats you well, your father will be fine. As I remember, Kevin Westcott comes from a good family, he's smart and he is well-behaved. You could do worse."

I guess that was a compliment. In truth, I had expected my mother to be the one who was unhappy with me bringing home a white guy. She was much more traditional than my father. And much harder to manipulate.

We switched subjects and talked for a little while longer.

Before Emily came home from school, I snuck away and called my new employer. Then I called Kevin.

"Hello," he answered on the first ring.

"Hi, Kev," I said nervously. "When are you coming down?"

"When are you free?"

"Don't you have work to do?" I asked with a nervous laugh.

"You know me: the procrastinator. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?"

"Neurodyne wants me to come out there on Monday for orientation," I glanced at the calendar on my laptop. "Then they're sending me to Hawaii from Wednesday until Friday. I'll be off the week after that."

"Hawaii? Must be nice," Kevin snorted playfully. "I could come in this weekend or the weekend after you get back."

"I was, um . . . thinking that you might want to come out to Hawaii with me," I stammered. "They're paying for my hotel room, so that would be free . . . it's just . . ."

"I can afford a plane ticket," he quickly read my mind. My pulse raced.

We worked out a few more logistical things, then hung up. I gave him my travel itinerary and he promised to get a seat on the same flight.

Before we hung up, I wanted to say the words. But I couldn't. Instead, all I could manage was, "Miss me, Kev."

"I already do, Mel."

*********** 

Over the next two months, we saw as much of each other as we could. When I was offered the job, I was insistent that I would not travel over weekends and that my flights had to be in and out of my hometown airport. The company was surprisingly considerate, but I was still spending way too much time away from my kids.

The way I saw it, though, I didn't have much of a choice. No other job offers were materialising, and I was being paid fairly well. Kevin flew out to be with me on a couple of trips. As a translator, I was expected to be at all of the company's meetings and attend some after-hours social functions. 

I did manage to get away for a fair amount of time and I quickly found that Kevin was very adept at finding things to do. During the days, he would often disappear on some sightseeing excursion or get on a city bus and explore wherever it was we were. Later, I found out that he often went to visit city missions or orphanages, usually leaving a considerable donation in their offering boxes.

The one good thing about all the east coast to west coast travel was that I began accumulating frequent-flyer miles at an alarming clip. As winter changed into spring, I started to feel a little bit better about my situation.

Once again, I was gainfully employed. I began paying down my debts. The travel was taking its toll on my family life, but Kevin's presence seemed to have a steadying influence on me.

I could still see the puppy love in his eyes. We very rarely talked about our relationship. Mostly we just enjoyed each others's company.

After one jaunt to Vancouver, instead of going our separate ways in Charlotte or Cincinnati or Atlanta, I went home with Kevin to spend a Thursday night before heading back to my parents's house.

The two of us met up with some of his friends for dinner. They were all very nice and made a big deal out of him bringing a "girlfriend" along. 

"We thought Kevin made you up," his buddy Mark joked. 

"Yeah, we've been trying to fix Kev up with dates for years," Mark's wife said. "But he never likes the girls we suggest."

"Why not?" I asked my lover; I was just now getting used to the idea of having a boyfriend. He only shrugged.

"He won't settle," a third friend scoffed. She was the lead singer in the group we went to see that first time I showed up on his doorstep. I guess she didn't remember me. Of course, she was probably too worried about playing her set than seeing who Kevin was with.

"We're still waiting for someone to claim the pool," Mark smiled. 

"What pool?" Kevin asked.

"That's none of your business. I have a feeling I'm going to win, though," his friend laughed. Then he gave me a wink. "I've got to hand it to you, Kev; you've really outdone yourself with Melanie. She is waaaaaaaayyyyyy out of your league."

"Yeah, Kevin," one of the other guys said. "You out-kicked your coverage in a big way."

I didn't get the joke, but watching Kevin turn beet-red was worth it.

His friends continued to give him a hard time and even started calling the two of us "WALL-E" and "EVE". Guess which one of us is which.

Despite the good-natured ribbing, his friends were very gracious and seemed to readily accept me as Kevin's significant other. 

"So tell us one thing about yourself that Kevin doesn't know," a tall, dark-haired woman asked. Through the snippets of conversation I had overheard, I had pieced together that she and Kevin went to college together. I couldn't figure out if there had been some sort of deeper relationship there, but they seemed close in an odd, platonic way. She had a knack for relating to people and getting them to open up; it certainly worked on me.

"My parents named me to help with their English," I said after a second.

Kevin's eyebrow went up. The other conversations around the table stopped to hear the story.

"When my brother and I were born, my folks supposedly gave us American names to help us fit in," I started. "What they didn't tell me until I was in high school is that they picked my name because of the L sound. In Japanese, there's no L phoneme. So to force themselves to practice, I became Melanie instead of Hitomi or Ikuyo."

"It must have worked," Kevin laughed. "I don't think I've ever heard them call you 'Merr-ran-ie'."

I blushed a little, but shared in the group's laughter.

"Well I'm glad you and Kevin met up again," the same woman said as she reached across the table to pat my hand. "He's been waiting for the right girl for so long and he only says good things about you."

"All exaggerations, I'm sure," I said. 

She gave me a knowing smile and winked. "Now tell us one thing about Kevin we didn't know before."

I thought for a second. On one hand, I didn't want to embarrass him too much, but this could also be fun. "When we were in middle school, he started wearing flip-flops. Like every day. Since we lived in Florida, there were only about two months out of the year when it wasn't sandals weather. This continued until we were in . . . what was it? Tenth grade? . . . When he started wearing Tevas—"

"He still wears those things every damn day in the summer!" Mark said and everyone laughed. Kevin's face flushed.

Turning, I winked at my lover. "Anyway, because he spent almost four straight years wearing those silly fluorescent green or orange sandals, he's got a gap that's about a quarter inch wide between his big toe and the next one."

We all had a good laugh. The night wore on and after dinner, we all went our separate ways. Kevin and I drove back to his house. I got familiar hugs from his friends. He got high-fives from his guy friends, and a special—familiar?—hug from the tall, dark-haired woman. I felt a twinge of curiosity (and jealousy), but pushed it out of my mind. Whatever connection they had, she was apparently one of his closest friends, and I had just come back into his life after an eighteen year absence.

The two of us held hands (like WALL-E and EVE) for the entire drive home. 

"You're friends were very nice," I said as we walked into the house.

"I told them they had to be on their best behaviour," Kevin tossed his keys on to the table.

"Or they couldn't run your new girlfriend through the wringer," I finished.

"Hey, they just wanted to see what you were like." He took me in his arms and pulled me close. We kissed gently in the kitchen.

"When will you be back?" he asked ruefully. 

"I'm not sure," I replied, not really wanting to address this. But I knew it was going to come up. My flight out was early the next morning and I didn't want to spend much more time away from my kids. The two of us uncomfortably stared off, each waiting for the other to say something first. I took a deep breath. "Mother wants to know when they're going to meet you. Again."

Kevin looked at me, his eyes wide.

"I could fly home with you tomorrow." The gears starting turning in his head.

"I'd like that," I said softly. "At least let me pay for your plane ticket."

"Not a chance," he said in a way that wasn't dismissive, but nor did he leave the matter up for discussion.

"No, Kev, I hate that you always pay for everything." My pride took over. "I've got a job now and I don't want you to think that you have to carry the entire financial burden of our relationship."

"Melanie, I appreciate the thought, but really, I can afford it." He reached into a packet of papers he brought home from dinner. It was then that I remembered the dark-haired woman had given Kevin a binder of folders and envelopes. It took me a second, but my jaw dropped when I saw that he was showing me his investment portfolio. "What did you think of my friend McKayla?"

"Your friend?"

"Ex-roommate, actually." Almost instantly, my catty side took over. I felt very angry. Both with him for not telling me earlier and at myself for feeling this way about someone I had just met. He must have seen my reaction because he very quickly added, "Relax, we weren't romantically involved."

"What was it, then? Friends with benefits?" The words were out of my mouth before I knew I had said them. My insecurities came to the forefront. The woman we were talking about was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. Not only that, but she was friendly and outgoing. Smart and sexy beyond belief. I couldn't believe for a second that if she and Kevin had lived together, he wasn't all over her.

"That's not fair," he said softly. A dark look flashed in his eyes. There was a warning in his glare. I backed down. "She was a year behind me at Guilford. We had an apartment for two years when she needed a friend. And no, we never slept together."

"But you wanted to," I spat.

He looked away. A wistful smile flashed across his face. "At first, yeah. Everyone wanted to sleep with her. But I'm not her type."

"What is her type?" I asked incredulously.

"You are." The words hung over us for a long moment. "I guess in some ways, she is my type: dark hair, pretty . . . didn't know I was in love with her for the longest time . . ."

I flushed both with embarrassment and at the look Kevin shot me. 

"Another unrequited love, huh?" I reached out and took his hand, as if to apologise.

"Yeah," he squeezed my hand. "Anyway, we kept in touch after graduation and she's a very successful financial planner. She handles all my investments. McKayla and her wife live out at the beach; we could go visit them some time. They have a daughter who's about Emily's age. You'd like them."

"I'm sorry for snapping at you, Kevin," I said.

"That's okay, sweetheart," he said and kissed me on the cheek. "Say, didn't you have a gay boyfriend in college? Yeah, that's what I thought. And didn't you spend a lot of nights cuddled up with him because you both just wanted to share a warm bed without any expectations? Well, that was McKayla and me. She was Will and I was Grace."

I blushed; there was certainly no refuting his logic. I guess I was also jealous that at a time when I had ignored Kevin, there was someone out there who appreciated everything he had to offer. Even without the sex. I took a deep breath and tried to let it go.

Kevin smiled knowingly, then flipped through the pages of his portfolio until he got to the summary. My jaw hit the floor when I saw the number. "Don't worry about what these trips cost. Or how much I spend coming out to visit you wherever you are. I've got money to spare."

Seeing me at a loss for words, he calmly explained how he had come into so much money and what his long-term investment strategy was, even in an economy that was in the tank. He and McKayla had a plan that was built to weather the storm and the two of them had enough foresight to pull out of the stock market before the bottom fell out.

As he talked, I didn't know what to say. For me, it complicated things. Sure I knew that a round-trip ticket to Honolulu or London or Tokyo was chump change to Kevin. But what did it mean for us? Was I after him just for his money? Or could I get past that? 

After all, Kevin told people a lie about his career to fend off the gold diggers, but here he was showing me what he was worth. He didn't drive a flashy new car or live in a big, expensive mansion, yet he could probably fund a junta in a small South American country if he wanted to. Or buy Iceland.

And there I was . . . recently unemployed. Up to my eyeballs in debt. Two kids. Living at home with my parents.

What am I going to do?

He talked for a few minutes, but my mind was swimming. His next words snapped me out of my reverie.

"My parents want to meet you, too," Kevin said.

"And what do we tell them?" I asked.

"The truth," he said simply. It had always been that easy for him. In my mind, I was trying to figure out the best way to approach his folks as someone who hadn't seen their son in eighteen years, had two kids and was suddenly showing up on his doorstep now that he wasn't a gawky teenage kid and had made a fortune as a computer programmer. 

Kevin, on the other hand, was his always drama-free self. Simply tell the truth. No bullshit. No spin. No excuses.

"How will they feel about me?" I asked insecurely. 

"They'll be happy to see you again," he replied. "And I think Mom knows about us."

"Did you say anything to her?"




I Want To Be In Love



"No, she saw you at the airport when we flew home back in January," Kevin smiled. "She figured me out pretty quick."

"Yeah, moms are pretty good at that." I shifted uncomfortably. "So . . . um, what do you think they'll say?"

"Not a thing," he said in a comforting way. "They'll just be happy that there might be a chance that I won't die alone."

We shared a nervous laugh.

The two of us sat back on the couch. I fidgeted for a second, then took a deep breath. I guess now was as good a time as any to have "the talk."

"Kev," I started tentatively. "Are you okay with us? I mean, the way we're going?"

"Of course," he said.

"Well, if you're going to meet my parents, that also means you're going to be meeting my kids," I wrung my hands. "They're a package deal with me. And not only that, you're always going to be second behind them. I won't apologise for that and it doesn't mean you're not important to me. But my kids come first in everything."

"I understand," he said sincerely. I don't think he quite appreciated the implications of what I was saying, but he appeared to understand.

"So you don't mind having a girlfriend with a seven year-old and a three year-old?"

"Naw, not as long as that girl is you," he wrapped his arms around me. "Besides, I like women with kids . . . it means they put out."

With a snort, I attacked him with a shower of pokes, playful punches and tickles. Soon, we were both laughing and collapsed on top of one another. He cried "uncle" not too much later.

Then he picked me up in his arms, took me back to his bedroom and it was my turn to beg for mercy.

*********** 

The next weekend was a whirlwind for me.

We woke up the next morning and drove to the airport, but not before taking a shower together. As we dressed, Kevin threw me down on the bed and fucked me like a wild man. Only instead of cumming inside me, he pulled out and left a thick load of cum on my belly. We didn't have time to shower again, so he rubbed it in to my skin. I spent the rest of the day knowing that I was going to have to face my parents and children, as well as his parents, with Kevin all over me. It was both embarrassing and kind of hot at the same time.

I called him an "evil, evil man" but he only laughed wickedly and smacked me on the backside.

Kevin cashed in some of his frequent flyer miles and the two of us flew home.

He caught a cab and went to visit with his parents. I told him that my parents wouldn't approve of me just showing up on their doorstep with him. They were, after all, still a little traditional. When I got home, I greeted the kids then took my mother aside and told her that Kevin insisted on meeting them again after eighteen years.

She looked a little shocked and was somewhat dismayed at the short notice, but she didn't object. Then I had to take a deep breath and break the news to my father. He seemed to take it well.

"I knew you had someone special in your life, Melanie," he told me. "You have been much happier lately."

Basically, I gave Father the short version of my whirlwind romance with Kevin, and stuck to his lie about being a community college professor. Like Mother, Father has his biases against community colleges, but his recollections of Kevin were uniformly positive and he was pleased that my new boyfriend had done well for himself (if only he knew!). It helped that Kevin had earned a Ph.D. from a "respectable" school.

Then it was the hardest part for me: breaking the news to my kids. I told them that an old friend of mine was coming to dinner. I didn't explain any details, only that Kevin was very special to me. They also handled it well; I think being around their father and his girlfriends made it easier for me to introduce someone to them.

About mid-afternoon, I drove over to Kevin's house and sat down with his parents. There were butterflies in my stomach, but their friendly demeanor immediately put me at ease. Very simply, Bud and Carla Westcott are the two nicest people on the planet.

Both remembered me coming over infrequently to work on a school project with Kevin. They asked about my parents and my brother. They said they couldn't wait to meet my children. 

Kevin's dad Anthony (no one ever called him that, though; when he was in the Army, someone started calling him "Bud" and it stuck) was a retired banker by trade, so he and I compared notes about the business. His mother was a child welfare advocate and despite all the reasons for her to be jaded and cynical at life, she was without a doubt the kindest person I had ever met. I could tell they doted on Kevin and realised that it was because of them that he had become such a good person.

We left right before dinner with promises of meeting again the next day for lunch.

"They really like you," Kevin said as we got in my car. I was in the passenger's seat, having coaxed him into driving. 

"They're very nice," I said, taking his hand.

"Mom wants to know what took me so long to find you again."

"And what did you tell her?"

"That we were meant to be together. Not when we were in high school. Not five years ago or even at last Christmas. But now."

I took a second to look over at him. He took his eyes off the road long enough to smile lovingly at me. 

"Do you believe that?" I asked softly.

"Yes, I do, Mel," he replied simply. My hand slipped into his. Neither of us spoke for the remainder of the drive back to my parents's house.

If Kevin was nervous, he didn't show it. We pulled into the driveway and got out. Kevin brought with him a bag that contained a nice bottle of sake and some vintage plum wine. He held my hand as we went inside.

Father was playing in the living room with my kids. Mother was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner. Everyone stopped what they were doing and came to greet us. I introduced Kevin to my parents. 

He spoke a few words of greeting in mangled Japanese. I could see them smiling inwardly, but I knew they appreciated the gesture.

Then it was my turn to introduce Kevin to Emily and Toby. My children are unfailingly polite, something expected in a Japanese household. Although they can be as rambunctious as American children, they are almost always good for strangers.

It seemed to me that Kevin took an instant liking to the kids, even going so far as to play Wii Bowling with Emily and engage in a little bit of restrained horseplay with Toby. If Mother and Father disapproved of my new boyfriend, they certainly didn't show it. Of course, they would never be rude to him, but I could tell that I wasn't going to hear about it later. 

And believe me, when Mother and Father didn't approve of some of the boys who came to meet them before, they certainly let me know!

We ate a traditional Japanese sukiyaki meal, even sitting on the floor tatami-style. My parents spent the evening grilling Kevin, although not obtrusively so. He finished everything that was offered to him and paid my mother enough compliments about the food that even she blushed.

After a while, we put the kids to bed and stayed up for a while and talked. At some point, the conversation turned to work and Kevin told them an abbreviated version of the truth about what he did for a living.

Mother and Father seemed both shocked and pleased that Kevin was a successful businessman and that he used much of the money he made for charity. I wouldn't say that we're racist, but Asian people can be among the most prejudiced around, especially for people who are of different nationality or ethnicity. My family was no exception, and my parents frowned on me dating anyone who wasn't Japanese. However, if I were going to be involved with a gaijin, my parents were happy that at least he was successful.

When the evening ended, I drove Kevin back to his parents's house. We sat in his driveway for a while.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" he said with a wry smile.

"It could have been worse," I admitted. "You should have seen what they did to one of the guys I brought home from college."

"They hung him out to dry, huh?"

"And then some." Looking back now, it was kind of funny. At the time, I was embarrassed beyond belief. My parents weren't exactly rude, but they made it clear that they didn't think he was good enough for me. As things turned out, he wasn't. I paused to take a breath. "My kids like you."

"That's good," Kevin squeezed my hand. "I like them, too."

"Why don't you have any kids?"

He only shrugged. "Never found the right girl, I guess."

"Would you want kids?" I whispered.

Kevin lifted my chin so I was looking into his big, blue eyes. My knees got weak. My pulse raced. My heart melted. "Only if their mother was you."

Unconsciously, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. 

His lips were soft and gentle. His hands cupped my face. A chill ran down my spine. If we hadn't been sitting in his driveway with his parents inside the house, I think I might have jumped him right there.

After a minute, he pulled back. We stared into each others's eyes for along moment.

"Well, now that we've each met the parents, I guess we're officially a couple now," he said with a grin.

"Yeah," I returned his smile. "I guess so."

"Good," he laughed. "It's been a while since I've had a girlfriend."

It took me a second to count the years back in my head. "It's been over a decade since I've had a boyfriend."

"I thought you and Kenzo met nine years ago," Kevin looked puzzled.

"We did, but we were never boyfriend-girlfriend," I said with a frown. "It wasn't exactly arranged, but our parents set us up. We got married because that was what we were supposed to do."

"Do you regret it?" he asked softly.

I had to think for a second before finally replying. "No, not really. We weren't a bad couple, but there weren't fireworks, either. He's a good guy and a good father. He gave me two beautiful children, but we weren't meant to be together."

"Do you think we're meant to be together?" There's never any beating around the bush with Kevin Westcott.

"I don't know," I replied, not daring to look him in the eyes. "I want to believe it, but I'm not sure . . . I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said gently. "Listen, Mel . . . I know you've had a rough year. But I think you like me as much as I like you. And I'll wait . . . Forever, if I have to."

"It won't be that long," I tried to give him a re-assuring smile. With a sigh, I reached for the door handle. We both got out and walked in front of my car. 

Kevin's strong arms enveloped me. I felt so safe with him. He kissed me on the forehead, then brought my lips to his. 

"Good night, Mel." I melted into his arms. "I'll pick you up tomorrow for lunch."

"Okay," I said simply. Once again, the words were on my lips, but I couldn't bring myself to say them. Instead, I smiled weakly then reluctantly let go. "Good night, Kev."

As I got into the driver's side, I heard him whisper, "Miss me."

I looked up longingly at him, wanting nothing more than to spend the night in his arms. But I couldn't. I had to get home to my kids and waiting parents. I got in the car to back out of his driveway.

"I already do."

*********** 

We settled into what passed for a routine. I was still having to travel much more than I would have liked. The money was good, but it was wearing me down. Kevin and I saw as much of each other as we could. I was torn trying to find enough time to spend with my kids, my parents and my boyfriend.

One night, I was laying in bed by myself in a hotel in Tokyo when the light came on for me. The previous day had been very long with a marathon negotiating session, followed by a corporate cocktail hour, dinner and then a social event. My feet and back were killing me.

As I lay there, I realised that I had fallen into the same trap that I had in my marriage. I was spending so much time trying to get ahead, I was missing out on the things that were truly important. My kids had spent the second half of the school year being raised by my parents. I blew into town on a Friday afternoon or night and then left before they got up on Monday morning. What kind of mother was I being?

And how was I treating my boyfriend? We spent a lot of time together when we could, but he was clearly back-burnered to my job. And for what? A few bucks? My pride?

For the first time in my life, I gave up on my plan. 

I had been impulsive before, but never like this. I guess it's one of my character flaws, but I was never unprepared. Spontaneity was for little things, like where to go for dinner. Even with all the curveballs life had thrown at me over the last year, I simply revised my 5 year plan and my 10 year plan. I had never completely thrown them out. 

Until that night I spent feeling alone. Crying until my eyes were bloodshot and I couldn't breathe. Curled up in a ball, wishing I had my arms wrapped around my children and feeling Kevin's hands gently running through my hair.

The next day, I got on the plane for the long flight home. From Tokyo, I flew to Honolulu then Chicago then took a detour to Richmond.

Kevin answered the door, his eyes wide.

"Mel! What are you doing here? Come in, you're getting soaked," he reached for me.

I didn't step into his house. The cab was waiting on me and I couldn't be long.

"No, Kevin," I said, my voice trembling. 

"What's wrong, Melanie?" he looked worried.

"I can't do this anymore," I told him. 

"Can't do what?"

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Even under the awning at his front door, the rain felt cleansing to me. "I can't fly all over the world and leave everyone who is important to me behind. It's not fair to them and it's not fair to me."

"What are you talking about, Mel?"

"I quit my job yesterday," I said. "I'm going home. I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but I'll figure something out."

"Where does that leave us?" he asked quietly. There was a tremor of worry in his voice.

"I don't know," I said, wiping the tears and the rain from my eyes. "Look, Kevin, I can't stay long . . . I've got to get back to the airport to catch my flight . . . but I wanted to tell you this, and it wouldn't be right to do it on the phone . . ."

"Are you breaking up with me?" there was panic in his eyes.

"No, Kevin," I managed a feeble smile. "No, nothing like that . . . I just need you to know this . . ."

I took his hands in mine. He looked into my eyes, fear and trepidation on his face.

"I love you, Kevin," I said softly. Taking a deep breath, I felt as if those simple words had lifted the weight of the world from my shoulders. So I said them again. "I love you."

He stepped out into the rain and took me in his arms. Our bodies melted together.

I couldn't see him through the tears. All I felt was his comforting embrace. It warded the chill away. It made me forget that we were standing outside and that I had to be back at the airport in less than an hour to catch a flight.

For that one brief moment, all that mattered was that Kevin was holding me close.

Finally, I pulled away. "I'm sorry, Kev . . . I have to go . . . My plane leaves—"

"No . . . no . . . no," he stammered. "You can't do this to me, Mel . . . No, no, nonononono!"

I headed back towards the waiting cab, but he grasped my hand and wouldn't let go.

"You can't just show up on my doorstep, drop this on me and then leave!" I couldn't tell if he was angry or desperate. Probably both.

"Kev, I—"

Without another word, he took my hand and went out to the cab. He paid the driver and unloaded my things.

"I've got to—" I tried to protest, but he wouldn't hear it.

He led me into his house, then threw his arms around me. Our bodies pressed together. My clothes were soaked and cold, but I couldn't feel it. His hand grasped at my jacket and my blouse.

I tugged at his shirt and fumbled with his belt. 

Soon enough we were both naked. I didn't let up until he was inside me. My back was against his front door, my legs lifted off the ground.

Kevin thrust desperately into me. It was all I could do to wrap my arms around him and hang on.

Every time he bottomed out, I cried out with joy. His teeth bit into the soft underside of my jaw. My fingernails dug into his back.

This time he wasn't slow or gentle. And I didn't care. Both of us were overcome with passion. With desire. 

With love.

"I . . . love . . . you!" I grunted between strokes.

His only reply was a feral growl. Followed by a relentless pounding of his hips against mine.

It was glorious. My body absorbed every blow. 

If it hadn't been raining outside, I'm sure I would have roused the neighbours with my screams.

My pussy felt as if it was on fire and the only thing that could put it out was Kevin's potent cum.

"Oh, Kevin!" I sobbed as the first cum hit me. My insides flooded with warmth. His cock continued to piston in and out of me. He was a machine. A goddam fucking machine.

And he was mine.

Just as I was his.

I collapsed against the door, my body limp. Still Kevin never let up. When my teeth dug into the side of his neck, he withdrew from me. We both let out a disappointed sigh.

He scooped me up into his arms and carried me to his bedroom. Then he lay me down in the middle of his bed. I spread my legs in anticipation.

His cock was still rock hard and coated in my juices.

Reaching out, I guided him to me. I was slick and he filled me up easily.

Our earlier lust sated, we settled into a slower rhythm. My hands cupped his cute little butt as I pulled him into me with each thrust.

He palmed my breasts and rolled my erect nipples between his fingers.

For the next few moments, there was only me and Kevin. Everything else faded away. My job. My kids. My worries. I knew in that instant that everything was going to be fine. That no matter what else happened, Kevin would be there for me. And for the first time, I trusted someone else to take care of me.

Not because I needed to be taken care of. Not because he had everything I seemed to be lacking. But because the two of us complimented one another. We seemed to fit together perfectly. Physically. Emotionally. 

Kevin's strokes came slower and I knew he was close. Like all guys, he had his tells. When he was close to cumming, he would hold himself inside me. His breaths came in short spurts, but he would hold it when he was about to cum.

Ever so gently, I rolled Kevin on to his back, his cock never leaving my pussy. It was my turn.

I sat back, taking all of his length inside me. My hair fell over my eyes, but his hands brushed it away. 

"I love you, Melanie Nakamura," he whispered.

Leaning in, I kissed him gently. "I know, Kevin. I love you, too. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to realise it."

"That's okay," he said with a smile. "I knew you'd come around."

We shared a deep, soul-cleansing laugh.

"Do you know when I fell in love with you?" I asked. He shook his head. "When we were in the bath tub at the airport. You were so cute. You wanted so badly to touch me, but you didn't . . . until you started to rub my feet."

I slowly began to grind my hips on him. 

"Deep down, I knew right then that you were the man for me," I whispered. Our eyes met. His gaze softened from the lust-fueled animal he had been a few minutes before to the loving man I had come to know. "Did you know I was a premature baby? I was five weeks early and underweight. I spent almost two months in the NICU. Mother and Father never left my side. They said I was covered in tubes and IVs and that the only part of me that didn't have something stuck to it was my feet. My parents would rub my feet because for two months that was the only contact they could have with me."

Sitting back, I saw Kevin's eyes take my body in. They strayed to the space between my legs and my breasts, but soon fixed on my eyes.




I Want To Be In Love



"That's so comforting to me, Kevin," I continued. "I knew from the way you touched me that you were in love with me. You are so gentle. I wanted to fall in love with you right then . . . but I couldn't . . . I didn't want to let myself until I had re-established myself as someone other than a failed banker and a failed wife and mother."

"You were never a failure, Mel," he admonished my self-pity.

"I feel like a failure," I said. 

"Don't," he said simply. "Just because life didn't turn out the way you wanted, doesn't mean you did anything wrong. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow."

"That's easy for you to say," a slightly defensive tone crept into my voice.

"It is," he shrugged. "I've had my share of good fortune, but I've also been so lonely for . . . well, for all my life. I don't want to spend it the rest of my years without someone I love with me."

My jaw fell open. 

"Don't leave me again, Melanie," he pleaded. "I'll do whatever I need to in order to have you in my life. . . . I love you . . ."

In that instant, Kevin looked so vulnerable. His usual confidence was stripped away. Once again, he looked like the shy teenager I used to know. The one who could solve any math problem but couldn't talk to girls about anything social.

"Even if I'm unemployed with two kids?" I asked in a playful tone that was meant to allay his fears. "Even if I'm a middle-aged divorcee with saggy breasts and too much grey in her hair?"

"Even if," he smiled. "I don't care if you ever work again. I like your kids and if you'll have me, I want to be in their lives."

His hand caressed my cheek.

"Melanie, I think you're perfect," Kevin said softly. "I love everything about you. You're the most beautiful woman in the world . . . you always have been. Do you know when I fell in love with you? It was in ninth grade Earth-space science. We did the 'egg drop' contest together. You wanted to win so badly . . ."

"So did you!"

"No, I didn't," he pulled me down to him. Our lips met. "I didn't care if we came in first place or last. I just wanted to spend an afternoon with you . . . even if it was under the pretense of doing a science project together."

"You didn't turn down the points when we came in first place."

"I'd have given them all back if I could have gotten to do the apple-shooting project with you, too." He smacked me playfully on the backside. Then his hands cupped my breasts. "I love your tits, Melanie. I could spend the rest of my life holding them . . . but if you don't like them, I'll pay to get them lifted or tucked . . . Or if you want a pair like Melinda Dransfield's, I'll get them for you—"

"You'd like that!"

"If it will make you happy," Kevin snorted. "But I don't want you to change anything about yourself. I love you just the way you are."

"Oh, Kevin," I sighed contentedly. "You sure know how to say the right things to a girl."

"Yeah, well, I've been saving up."

"For what?"

"For you." We kissed gently before he spoke again. "Marry me."

"What?" I gasped.

"Will you marry me, Melanie Nakamura?"

I gaped at him, unable to speak. His hands caressed my shoulders. His lips were so soft. I knew I had fallen for him. A little part of me wanted to slow things down, but I pushed that voice out of my mind. After all, there was no sense in being cautious any more. Not after what I had just done.

"Yes," I replied. "Yes, I'll marry you, Kevin Westcott . . . But you're going to have to ask me again later because I am not telling Mother this is how you proposed to me!"

We laughed together, a sound that would become very familiar in the coming years.

"I love the way you touch me, Kevin," I whispered, kissing him behind the ear.

"Well get used to it, because I'm never letting go of you," he vowed.

Once more, we shared a deep, sloppy kiss. Then I sat back and he cupped my breasts in his hands. 

For the rest of the afternoon, I impaled myself on his cock, crying out his name. He held me in his arms and made love to me long and slow. I was never so happy to miss a flight in my life.

*********** 

"Where are we going?" 

"That's a surprise," Kevin replied. He was carrying an overnight bag. After his impromptu marriage proposal, he made a call and soon had a private jet waiting for us at the airport. We flew back home. I drove back to my parents's house and Kevin picked up a rental car.

I didn't tell Mother or Father about my job. Not then.

Unbeknownst to me, the next afternoon, while I was out with the kids, Kevin drove over and asked my parents for their blessing. We went out to dinner that night to one of our favourite restaurants out at Atlantic Beach and much to my surprise, his parents, my parents and my kids showed up.

He got down on one knee, produced a ring with a rock on it that appeared to be about the size of The Fabulous Baseball Diamond and formally asked me to marry him.

I acted surprised but the tears were real. Of course I said yes.

We were planning a small wedding (and when I say "we" I mean "me") when we decided to forego the formality and flew all of our friends and family out to Vegas and got hitched. No, Elvis wasn't involved. I had the big wedding the first time and wanted this one to be familiar and intimate.

Emily and Toby were our attendants and Kevin surprised me by producing the kimono my mother had worn at her wedding. Father only winked. Despite my reservations about how they'd react, both my parents eagerly supported my union with Kevin. I think they were relieved that I had found a successful husband since I was once again unemployed.

Somehow, Kevin found a Shinto shrine out in the middle of the Nevada desert and we had a small, but traditional, Japanese wedding. At first I wanted to wait, but Kevin insisted on getting married quickly.

"The kids will be going to their father's once school gets out," he told me. "I want them to be a part of our wedding and then I want us to have some time together before we get them back when school starts again in August."

I readily agreed; it seemed my new groom was thinking two steps ahead of me. When we returned, the two of us sat down and had a heart-to-heart. 

Despite the whirlwind nature of our romance, the fact of the matter was that Kevin had been a confirmed bachelor and I was a family mom. There was a great divide between our worlds. We talked about his role as a stepfather. We discussed all the debt I was bringing to our relationship. Everything was on the table, from the hours we kept to the way we spent our money. Life isn't all passion and romance and we both wanted to love each other once the first six months of our marriage had passed.

It was especially hard for me. In the back of my mind, I was busy re-formulating my 5 year plan. I didn't have to work if I didn't want to. Kevin told me as much. But I needed something to do. 

I'm a goal driven person. I always have been. When I was laid off my job, I my self-esteem was crushed. I hate to admit it, but every identity I had was wrapped up in my career. Unfortunately, I was a mommy second to my job. It wasn't out of selfishness, though; it was out of love. I wanted to provide for my family and I thought that by working and working, I could give them things and opportunities I couldn't if I didn't push myself so much.

This second round of unemployment was a little easier for me. It was voluntary. It was something I had chosen. 

Even though I could have been Kevin's trophy wife, I desired more. I needed something other than sitting around a house waiting for him to come home from work.

Luckily, Kevin understood, although he told me to take some time to spend with my kids before jumping back into a job hunt.

So there we were, on a private jet going somewhere. Kevin wouldn't tell me where.

School had just gotten out. I packed up Emily and Toby's things and their father drove down to pick them up. With tears in all our eyes, my children went off to spend the summer with their father, a condition of our custody agreement. 

Kenzo was a little shocked that I had re-married so quickly. He wasn't exactly rude to Kevin, but he wasn't very friendly, either. For his part, my new husband was kind of a jackass, too.

For me, depression sank in almost as soon as my kids were out of the driveway.

Kevin tried to alleviate this by taking me on this trip. The flight was a little over an hour. We landed and it took me a second to realise where we were.

My eyes grew wide as we got in a waiting rental car.

"Why are we at Raleigh-Durham?" I asked once I found my voice. 

"I knew I should have blindfolded you!" he smiled mischievously. 

"No really, why are we here? And why didn't we just bring the kids with us?"

"And deprive your ex-husband of a nine-hour car ride with Emily and Toby?" Kevin laughed evilly.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

A little while later, we were driving through my old home city. After graduating from Duke, I had settled a little ways up the road in Raleigh. When I got married, we stayed in town because I was making good money and Kenzo easily found a job in the booming economy of the late 90s.

Kevin drove around for a little while and soon we were in one of the city's "old money" neighborhoods. The houses there weren't as big as the McMansion I used to live in, but they were all built during the Gilded Age and oozed character and history. Also unlike the new cookie-cutter sub-divisions, no two houses are alike and they had been kept up well.

Finally, Kevin pulled into the driveway of a house. The lights were on inside.

"Friends of yours?" I asked.

"No," he replied simply.

We got out of the car and walked around to the back. It was then that I noticed his red Shelby Cobra and Jeep CJ7 sitting under the car port.

My hands started to shake.

Kevin reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He handed it to me and motioned towards the door.

We stepped inside to an unfurnished house. The hardwood floors were cold, but had just been polished. There were new granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. The walls were freshly-painted.

Unable to speak, I dumbly followed Kevin through the house. In the living room, my husband flipped a switch and brought the gas fireplace to life.

"What is this?" I breathed.

"My wedding present to you." Kevin took me in his arms. We stood there for a long time in the flickering light.

"Why?"

"Because your kids need you to be near them," he replied. "Look . . . there's no reason for us to live in Jacksonville with your parents, is there? And you don't want to move to Richmond with me . . . Emily and Toby's dad lives here so why not bring them home?"

"But what about you . . . your foundation?"

"It goes where I go," he waved me off. "It's just me and I can run it from here as well as from Richmond."

There were so many things I wanted to say, but the words failed me. I pulled Kevin close and vowed to never let him go.

"Come here, I want to show you something," he said, a twinkle in his eye.

He led me to the front door, where I began to cry.

A mat was on the floor, and despite the fact that there was no other furniture, it made this house feel like a home. Our home.

Welcome to the Casa de Mel

I practically threw Kevin on the floor and raped him right there. To his credit, he took it like a man.

*********** 

The next seven months passed in a blur.

When he found out that Kevin and I had moved to Raleigh, Kenzo was more than happy to go to an every-other-week schedule for the kids. I don't think he (or his girlfriend) realised how much work having the kids for three months was going to be. 

We moved his things from Richmond and got some of my stuff out of storage. Kevin revealed that he had bought this house almost three months before as a "reconstruction" project and had been slowly restoring it to its former glory. I was amazed at his confidence that there was some future for the two of us. He gave me a healthy budget for new home furnishings (I came under; yea, me!) and we nested. All our parents came up and we celebrated our first Christmas as a family.

Kevin sold his house and I started working as a loan officer for a local credit union. It was a steep pay cut from my previous job as a banker, but the hours were good and I didn't miss the extra stress or the travel. The kids returned to the schools they left when I moved home and it was as if they hadn't missed a beat.

The four of us had some growing pains as a family, but Emily and Toby readily accepted Kevin as their stepfather and he treated them as if they were his own children. Of course, we had to break ourselves of some old habits as we learned to live with one another, but that was to be expected. Besides, when Kevin and I fought, we got to have make-up sex.

Valentine's Day rolled around and Kevin was waiting for me when I got home. Some days I felt like he was a worthless bum because he never had to leave the house to go to "work" but I didn't begrudge him the fact that he had earned the lifestyle he now led.

I was carrying a bouquet of flowers that had shown up at work. They were beautiful and garnered much jealousy from my co-workers. The kids were at their dad's for the week.

Setting the flowers down on the counter, I drew out a small box from my purse. 

Handing it to Kevin, I greeted him with a kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day."

As the wrapping paper fell away, I saw his jaw drop.

"What . . . Mel? . . . I . . ."

Smiling to myself, I pressed my body against him. "Kevin, this is my wedding present to you. I know it's a little late and that there's nothing I can buy you that you don't already have . . . but I want this for us."

"Are you sure?" he asked once he found his voice.

"Yes, Kev, I'm sure," I replied. "I'm thirty-seven years old now. If we wait any longer, we'll be taking chances with my health . . . and our baby's."

He flung my birth control pills down on the counter, the scooped me up in his arms.

I let out a rapturous laugh as he carried me back to our bedroom. I nuzzled up against his neck.

"I stopped taking them last week," I whispered. He promptly tossed me down on the bed. A shiver ran through my body at the look he gave me.

Kevin pounced on top of me and tore at my clothes. I eagerly gave in to the primal force that was my husband.

The two of us fucked like rabbits for the next three days. We didn't even leave the house. We made love everywhere.

Kitchen table. Living room sofa. Stand-up shower. 

Check. Check. Check.

I rode him as he sat on the toilet. He bent me over the side of the loveseat and banged me. We sixty-nined on the dining room floor. I sucked his cock as he surfed for porn on his computer. He ate me out as I sat on the edge of our whirlpool tub. One night, we went outside and had sex in the hot tub on the back deck even as the snow was falling.

And more than a few times, we made love in our bed.

It wasn't until my March cycle that I caught. Neither of us wanted to know what the sex of the baby is going to be. We turned the spare bedroom into a nursery. Both Emily and Toby were excited to have a new sibling. His parents were ecstatic that they were going to be grandparents.

A month after that, I came home from work one day and Kevin told me to pack a suitcase.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"On the honeymoon we never took," he said.

"What about the kids?"

"They're going to their dad's next week." Kevin still won't call Kenzo by name. "How would you like to spend a week in the Caribbean?"

Who am I to turn down a vacation with the man I love?

As with just about everything Kevin does for us, the plans were already made. All I had to do was show up. It was a great relief to me that Kevin did so much for us. Not that I don't like to plan, but because it allowed me to let other people do the little minutia that I often get caught up in. 

Giving up control was very hard for me. That's one of the downfalls of being a Type A personality. I'm lucky to have a husband who is patient with me and doesn't put up with all my crap.

We got on a plane in RDU and flew to our connecting flight to Ft. Lauderdale.

Kevin went off to get us something to drink. I headed for the gate for our next flight.

I was walking by one of the airport restaurants, when I felt someone tugging at my arm. I turned, instantly defensive.

"Melanie Nakamura?" a man asked.

His voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. The man sitting at the table was short, round and balding. I knew I should recognise him, but I didn't.

"Melanie? You haven't changed a bit!" he continued. "It's me, Darren Copeland."

My eyes got wide. Darren graduated with Kevin and I. He was almost as smart as Kevin and almost as motivated as me. As I remembered, he was also kind of arrogant and liked rubbing the fact that he smarter than most everyone else in their faces.

He hadn't aged well. At least not as well as my husband.

"Hey, Darren, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, not a lot," he slurred. It was evident that he had been drinking for some time. "Have a seat and join me for a drink."

"I can't—" I started but he waved a waitress over.

"What'll you have, Melanie?"

I blushed. "Just water, please."

You had better hurry your ass up, Kevin! I thought.

"Where are you off to?" Darren asked. As revolting as they appeared, the cold potato skins on his plate seemed oddly appealing to me. Pregnancy cravings, I guess.

"Ft. Lauderdale," I replied absently. "Got a date with a jewelry store on St. Thomas."

"That sounds like fun. I'm on my way out to San Francisco for a software conference," he said even though I hadn't asked.

"Listen, I've got—"

"Hey, Kevin! Kevin Westcott!" he looked past me and started to wave excitedly.

I turned and saw my husband passing us by on the moving sidewalk. He glanced up in surprise, then his face broke into a wide smile. My husband came back and held out his arms to embrace our mutual friend.

"Well, I'll be damned! Darren Copeland! How the hell are ya?"

I sat there as the two old friends exchanged pleasantries. Kevin and Darren hadn't been close in high school, but they ran in the same circles and both spoke the same language: computer geek. And I mean that in the most loving way possible.

"Can I buy you a beer?" Darren asked.

Kevin, if you do anything other than get me away from him, I will kill you, I thought.

Have you ever been around someone who just gives you the creeps? That was the vibe I always got from Darren. Not that he was dangerous or anything like that, but I always felt that when he looked at me, he was picturing me naked. Of course, I think sixteen year-old boys look at all  girls like that.

"No thanks," Kevin replied. He set a cup of coffee down on the table in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" our mutual friend asked.

"I'm on the way to Ft. Lauderdale," my husband said. "Got a big Caribbean cruise coming up."

"Say, Melanie, aren't you going to Ft. Lauderdale, too?" Darren slurred.

I nodded and resisted the urge to slap him upside the head. Maybe he was really drunk and not just tipsy. He raised his half-empty glass of beer. "Well, here's to you, Kevin, the luckiest game designer on the east coast; that contract was mine you know! And to the prettiest girl in the Class of 1991: Melanie Nakamura!"

"Westcott." Smiling to myself, I corrected our drunken companion. "It's Melanie Westcott now."