Chapter 8

"Mom, what the hell?"

I'd run for my phone and snatched it up the moment it rang, hoping that with some distance and a pause to reflect, Jenny had had a change of heart. But instead of my daughter, the voice on the other end was my son, and he didn't sound the least bit full of Christmas cheer.

"What the hell?" Jeff demanded again into the silence.

I settled onto my bed and pulled my legs up to sit cross-legged atop the covers. "I take it your sister called you." "Yeah." He drew the word out, making at least three syllables of it. "She said she walked in on the two of you banging on the couch." When I didn't answer immediately, he demanded, "Were you?"

I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn't what we'd been doing, closed it again, and took a deep breath. "Jeff, I'm an adult. Mike is an adult. You and Jenny are adults. What we were doing is none of your business."

"Mom!" Mike groaned. "You hooked up with my classmate!"

That hit uncomfortably close to home. "Your classmate is a thirty-year-old man. He's allowed to hook up with anyone he damn well chooses." I wrestled my emotions under some semblance of control. "Look, Jeff, Mike and I were both spending the holidays apart from our families and friends. Yes, we got together. But we've both agreed that we don't have a future together, and we probably won't see each other again. Okay?"

I managed to keep my voice steady, even though a tear rolled down my cheek. It was nothing more than the truth, after all. Mike and I didn't have a future together, and, fantasies aside, there was no point in pretending we could.

"No, it's not okay!" Jeff sounded furious. "Mom, I still have to go to classes with Mike! What am I supposed to do about that?"

That one was easy enough. "Do you talk about your sex lives now?"

Jeff recoiled. "No!"

"Then keep on doing whatever you've been doing. Talk about your assignments. Talk about sports. Talk about the weather. Talk about anything that isn't who you've had sex with."

"Mom!" Jeff moaned. "It's not that easy!"

I sighed. "No, honey, it isn't necessarily easy. But you're an adult. You can handle it."

"Jeasus Christ!" That took me aback, because Jeff wasn't usually one to swear. "I can't even talk to you about this. You've ruined Christmas! You've ruined my life!" Before I could respond, he hung up.

With a swear word or two of my own, I hit Redial. The call went straight to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message and dialed Jenny's number. Voicemail again.

I wanted to throw the phone across the room, but good sense prevailed, and I dropped it on the bed. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

A sudden thought struck me, and I scooped up the phone again. Margay! I could call Margay. Margay would understand.

I stopped, finger hovering over the button. No, I couldn't call Margay. Margay wouldn't understand. She wouldn't understand me screwing one of my son's classmates, a man fifteen years my junior. She wouldn't understand me driving my children away and ruining their lives. She wouldn't understand that, as much as I was crying over Jeff and Jenny, I was also crying over Mike and the fact that there could never be a relationship between us.

"Lynne."

I looked up to see Mike framed in the doorway to my room, still in his sweatpants but with the addition of a tee. "I've made us some breakfast." He held out his hand. "Come on. You'll feel better with a little something in you."

I didn't want to feel better, but I had to admit that scrambled eggs and toast helped blunt the rough edges of my emotions, at least a little bit. "Thanks," I said around a watery smile as Mike gathered the dishes.

"Glad to." He smiled. "You'd do the same for me." He paused, plates stacked in one hand, juice glasses in the other. "Was that your daughter who called?"

I shook my head. "No. Jeff." Briefly, I filled him in on the conversation.

To my amazement, he chuckled. "Kids." He stepped into the kitchen. "He'll get over it. They both will."

I considered my coffee cup. "I don't know. They were pretty upset."

Mike reappeared in the doorway. Behind him, I could hear water running. "They'll be fine. You'll be fine. Trust me."

I drained my coffee and studied the bottom of the mug, as if I might find answers there, written in tea leaves. "I hope you're right."

I didn't really feel like making a big Christmas dinner, but the turkey was already thawed, and it gave me something to do. Mike helped, chopping, stirring, washing dishes, and generally making himself useful. I entertained a brief fantasy of the two of us cooking together in our own place, but my heart wasn't really in it.

After the last of the leftovers were put away and the dishes washed and dried, Mike put his arms around my waist and kissed the back of my neck. "Want to go to bed?"

I opened my mouth to tell him no, that it was better if we didn't, that it had probably never been a good idea at all. "Sure," I heard myself say.

We undressed slowly and climbed between the covers.

More than anything, I wanted to be held. I lay with my head on Mike's shoulder, our chests and bellies pressed together, legs twined. It felt good, and I knew I was going to miss having him here.

Mike idly stroked my hair, blonde strands slipping between his fingers.

I kissed his jaw. "Thank you for being here."

"I'm glad to be here," he murmured. Then he added, "I'm sorry things turned out the way they did today."

"Me too." I shrugged. "I don't think there was anything you could have done, except not fool around with me on the couch." I kissed him. "And I wanted you to fool around with me on the couch."

"Mmm." Mike kissed me back. "I wanted that too." He kissed me again. "And what you were doing was very nice."

"Mmm-hmm," I agreed. I reached between us to curl my fingers around his shaft. "Would you like me to do that again?"

"God, yes!"

I started to slide down, but Mike stopped me. He patted my thigh. "Turn this way. I want to be able to do the same for you."

A bit awkwardly, I folded the covers back and swiveled so that my hips were even with his face. "I've never done this before," I said, a little nervous.

Mike kissed my thigh. "You'll be fine."

I wrapped my hand around his erection and brought it to my mouth, sliding the head between my lips. At the same time, his tongue gently parted my folds and slid over my clit.

We moved slowly, exploring one another. I held his cock in my mouth, squeezing and releasing with my tongue, while my fingertips caressed his balls.

Mike's tongue moved over my clit in gentle, lapping strokes. It was nice, but I didn't think it was doing much for me--until, all of a sudden, I felt myself on the edge of the precipice. I grabbed his ass and began to move back and forth on his shaft, hoping to give him the idea.

He groaned and slid one finger in me, then two, twisting gently as he stroked them in and out. The slow movement was almost torture. I wanted more. I whimpered and bucked my hips, but Mike only continued his madeningly slow stimulation. His tongue swept over my clit once, then again. Suddenly, without warning, I was over the edge, tumbling down and down into the abyss.

When the tremors abated, I wriggled away from Mike and squirmed to face him again.

He groaned. "Don't stop."

I grabbed his shoulders. "I want you in me."

He swallowed. "Yes." He reached for the condoms.

"No." I grabbed his arm. "Please, Mike, not tonight. I want to feel you inside me. Just you."

He shook his head. "Lynne-"

"Please." I reached down and tookhim in my hand again, his shaft now slick with my saliva.

"Damn it, Lynne." He hesitated, looking from me to the condoms and back. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

I slid my hand up to the tip of his shaft and back down again to the base. "If this is going to be our last time together, I want to feel you naked. I want to remember you that way."

Without a word, Mike pulled my hand away. He rolled on top of me and thrust into me, all the way to the hilt.