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“I met Hillary at the hospital Iused to work at,” Ian spoke in soft words as my fingers played inhis chest hair. “She was a nurse and I was the attendingphysician,” he said matter-of-factly. I tried to tramp down theinstant jealousy that flared at the mention of his ex’s name,Anna’s mom. I was the one snuggled up to his side after our romp inthe sheets hours ago, not her.
When he finally pulled himselffrom me earlier and cleaned us both up, he’d simply grabbed me tohis side and hadn’t let go. It felt natural to lay like this withhim.
As it was, we’d lay like thiswhile he talked about his past. He talked briefly about hismarriage to Anna’s mom. I felt a wave of relief when there was nohint of sadness in his voice about the divorce from his ex.Apparently, the whole situation had been mutual and there were nohard feelings. “I will forever be grateful to her for bringing Annainto my life,” he said with a small smile playing on his lips.
It was obvious that he and Annahad the type of father/daughter relationship some would never get.He loved her like she were his own in every single way possible. Itwas something I found myself envious of.
I laid with my head on his chestas he relayed story after story of Anna growing up. And when he ranout of stories about her he moved on to stories of his own youth.Everything from his father teaching him to play baseball to himgetting a scholarship to Harvard Medical School.
I was stunned and intrigued tolisten to him talk about his life. It was moments like this thatmade me remember our age difference. I was basically new toadulthood and here he was having lived a whole-ass life. Completewith college, marriage, and a kid. “Wow, you’ve had a full life,” Imuttered, my voice dull to my own ears. The thought of us being incompletely different phases of our lives caused my chest to deflatesome. “Sometimes I forget that there’s such a large gap in ourages,” I admitted.
I knew that when we went back toour real lives we were going to try and make this relationshipwork, but I still held onto my reservations. Even just replayingwhat he said to me before we had sex got me thinking about thefuture. He’d had a vasectomy twenty-something years ago and I wasjust entering my twentiesnow. Sure, I didn’t want babies atthis point in my life but that wasn’t to say I would never wantthem. Would he be okay with that or would he opt out completely?The thought of putting so much effort into a relationship just tosee it fail scared the shit out of me. Maybe I was childish, but Iwanted a lifelong partner. Not someone to just pass the timewith.
He shocked me with hisintuitiveness when he realized my thoughts had turned dark. Herolled me over and kissed me senselessly with the promise thateverything in our relationship would work itself out. “No, Bambi.It hasn’t been full because I haven’t gotten to spend any of itwith you,” he said and I melted at his words. “I want this badlyenough that I’d never let something as silly as an age differencecome between us,” he promised quietly.
By the time he let me up for air,I was needy all over again. I took a deep breath as he pulled meback to his side and stilled my wantonness. As it was, I wasstarting to get a dull ache in my core from our earlier activities.Not that that stopped my mind from wandering to dirtier things.
My hands itched to move theblanket that covered his hips. My eyes wanted nothing more than togobble up the sight of him again, hard, and ready to take me. Mysex clenched with the anticipation of a possible round two. Ismothered a giggle as I shook my head to myself.Down girl.What? You get great sex once and now you’re addicted?
“Enough about me, what about you?”Ian’s voice rumbled in his chest under my cheek, effectivelyhalting my kinky thoughts.
I lifted my head and curled my armover his chest. I tucked my chin against the bend in my elbow andlooked up at his handsome face. “What do you mean,what aboutme?” I asked.
The grin that split his lips mademe want to grin right back up at him.Will I ever get used tohis charming good looks?He tucked one hand behind his head andleaned against it as his other tangled in my mass of dark curls. Helovingly finger-brushed my hair before he spoke. “I mean, what haveyou been up to these last twenty-one years?” he asked.
I tried not to flush at the lackof wonder my life was composed of. I had a mediocre childhoodfollowed up by a mediocre young adulthood. All in all, it wasnothing to ring home about.
“What do you want to know?” Iasked.
His chuckle bounced me lightly.“Let’s start with your college major.”
I curled my nose up at hisquestion. “Economics,” I stated factually. He raised a regaleyebrow at me eliciting a giggle to bubble up from my belly.“Boring, I know, but I’m good with numbers. When I started collegeI didn’t really have that much of a clue about what I wanted to dowhen I grew up. It always seemed crazy to me that people expected abunch of eighteen and nineteen-year-olds to know exactly what theywanted to do for the rest of their lives.” I frowned to myselfbefore shaking my head. “Anyway, Aunt Jill said she may have somestrings to pull when I graduate. Apparently, she knows some peoplethat could use a good financial manager.” I shrugged.
“Sounds like you have it allfigured out.” He grinned.
“Hardly,” I laughed. “But everyonehas to start somewhere.”
“Okay, so now I know where yourfuture is going, what about your past? How was growing up inGeorgia?”
I scoffed with a smile. “Well,my Mr. Big City Doctor Man. I fancy it was just grand growing up inmy dinky little town,” I spoke in an exaggerated southernaccent.
Ian tossed his head back andlaughed before returning his eyes to me. Humor sparkled in his eyesas he tugged a piece of my hair. I laughed again before I laid myhead back down against his softly rising and falling chest. “It wasfine.” I shrugged.
His hand kept playing with myhair. “Just fine?”
I nodded. “There isn’t much elseto say. I grew up in a small town where everyone knew everyoneelse’s business. I went to the same high school my mom and dad wentto so every teacher thought I was going to end up just like my mom.Pregnant at sixteen with a loser baby daddy.” I winced as the wordsflew out of my mouth. The way I spoke of others’ preconceivednotions of my mom made her sound like a loser too when she was thefurthest thing from it.
“I think that’s partially why Inever wanted to have sex with anyone,” I admitted quietly and Ian’shand stilled in my hair for a moment before continuing. “That, andI was just never interested in anyone in that way,” I reasonedwhile drawing meaningless swirls against Ian’s chest. His hand keptplaying with my curls as I continued talking.
“When my dad cheated, everybody intown knew,” I said quietly as if I were quiet enough my motherwould never have to relive that humiliation. “And with everythingthat came after their divorce, I’m sure our family drama was thetalk of the town.”
Ian was quiet for a moment as ifcarefully navigating the fragile topic of my father trying to killmy mother. “He’s in prison, right?” Ian asked, a hint of concern inhis voice.
I nodded. “Fifty years, thoughthat’s too little as far as I’m concerned.” I liked to say I was aperson that never hated anyone. Hate was such a strong word and itwas hard to come back from that place. But Ihatedmy fatherwith every inch of my soul. For what he put my mom through. Forwhat he putmethrough.
“Were you close with him?” heasked.
“Ha!” I barked a humorless laugh.“That’s a joke,” I said, realizing how bitter I sounded. I moved myhead again to look up at him. His hand moved from my hair down tomy shoulders where he continued to delicately run his fingers,gently tickling the skin there.
