still muffled.
“I do, can’t lie. Best days of my life. Till I met you, that is.”
The anxiety was too much. It was seeping into every pore, right to her bones. She pulled back and looked up into his face. “Hey. I think I know of a way to make you feel better.” It was really a way to make herself feel better, a surefire way, but Morris didn’t need to know that.
He grinned at her, putting the soda down on the granite island behind them. His hands moved down to her butt and squeezed. “Oh, yeah? How’s that?”
She took him by the hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “Come and see.” I need you, she thought, but couldn’t say it.
Morris followed a few paces, then stopped. “Wait. Are you teasing me?”
“Not this time,” Sheila said, pulling him close. Her hand went to his crotch, and she massaged him purposefully through his jeans.
He pulled back, breathing hard. “What about the wedding? I thought you wanted to wait.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Out of the blue?”
No. I’m panicking and I need to feel close to you before I lose you. She swallowed and managed a smile. “What can I say, I’m ready.”
He took her face in his hands, looking intently into her eyes. “Honey, I’ve waited a whole year. I can wait another three weeks. I know how important it is to you.”
His sincerity almost broke her heart. Goddamn you, Ethan Wolfe. “Are you turning me down?” she whispered.
Morris stared at her, the realization spreading over his face. Yes, she was completely serious. “Hell no!” he said.
Despite her turmoil, she couldn’t help but laugh. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, heading toward the stairs. “Let’s go before you change your mind. Hoo-ah!”
He carried her all the way up the stairs, and while it was exhilarating to know that her fiance was strong enough to haul her weight over his shoulder, Sheila couldn’t help but worry he was going to drop her. After all, Morris was fifty, no spring chicken.
They got to the bedroom and he placed Sheila gently on the bed, out of breath but still grinning. The exertion on his red face didn’t stop him from reaching for his belt buckle immediately. Sheila touched his arm to slow him down.
“Take it easy, big guy. We have all day.” She gave him her most seductive smile, not wanting him to know that her real reason for slowing down was because she was worried about his health.
She’d never had to worry about Ethan’s health, but she pushed that stupid thought out of her mind. She needed to focus on the man in front of her. The man she loved with all her heart. The man she was finally ready to make love to.
She reached for his belt buckle, unfastened it, and pulled down his jeans. Through the thin fabric of his boxer shorts, she could see he was already hard.
He gazed down at her with an expression full of wonder. “You are something else.”
“I’m just getting started.” Her voice was throaty. “Take off your shirt.”
He immediately began to undress, his large fingers fumbling with the small buttons on his shirt. A few buttons in, he yanked it over his head, impatient. Underneath he was wearing a thin, white, sleeveless undershirt, but he made no move to take it off. Sheila didn’t ask him to, either-she knew he was self-conscious about his stomach. His jeans stayed bunched around his ankles and he stood like a statue, waiting to see what she’d do next.
She slid off the bed and got on her knees. After pulling his boxers down, she took him into her mouth with a passion that felt totally natural even though she’d never performed oral sex on him before. Hell, she’d never seen him this naked before. She’d never let him get past second base.
Her mouth worked on him expertly. The carpet in the bedroom was plush with thick underpadding, and Sheila could have stayed on her knees all day. But then something happened. She noticed it right away, and her heart sank.
Despite her expertise, Morris was starting to get soft.
Oh, God. She tried not to panic.
Pretending not to notice his softening erection, she worked him harder, moaning from the back of her throat like a porn star and looking up at him with big brown eyes. At first he met her gaze, but then he squeezed his eyes shut, putting his hands on her head to urge her on faster.
But it was no use. He couldn’t get hard again. She knew it, he knew it, and worst of all, he knew that she knew it.
She couldn’t imagine what the problem might be. Morris had never mentioned having difficulties maintaining erections before.
Sheila stopped what she was doing and he slid out of her mouth. She looked up at him. “Are you okay, babe? What’s the matter? Am I doing it wrong?”
“No, it’s fine. I guess I’m just a little nervous.” Morris attempted a laugh. It came out harsh and desperate. “I thought I’d be watching football today. Maybe go slower?”
She did, taking her time. But it didn’t help. Her hands, which were resting on his buttocks while she worked, were beginning to feel clammy. She wasn’t sure if it was her own cold sweat or his.
The key was not to panic. If she panicked, he would panic, which would only make things worse.
Standing up, she pushed him back on the bed. “Get comfortable,” she said, favoring him with what she hoped was a natural smile. Flicking on the stereo behind her, she found a station that played soft jazz. She waited till he had kicked off his jeans and removed his socks and was lying down on the bed. The white undershirt stayed put.
She turned her back to him and unzipped her own jeans slowly. Wriggling out of them, she bent forward so he could have a good, close view of her ass. She was thankful she’d thought to put on nice pink bikini panties that morning. She slid out of them slowly, looking over her shoulder at him and winking. Locking her eyes on his, she pulled her sweater up over her head and unfastened her bra. She tossed it to him. He caught it, smiling.
Cupping a generous breast in each hand, she licked one of her own nipples, exaggerating the movements with her tongue, which she knew drove most men nuts. Morris watched her steadily, his eyes flicking up and down her body. But still, he stayed soft. She hiked a leg up on the bed to give him a better view. Moving her hands down to her crotch, she touched herself. It never failed to work.
Not even a twitch.
She climbed on top of him, sitting in his lap, writhing her hips as she kissed his neck and nuzzled his earlobes, something that usually drove him crazy. He kissed her back passionately, his tongue aggressive and searching, but when her fingers wandered down to his penis, it was still soft. He moved her hand away.
“Why don’t you let me work on you, ” he said.
Sheila smiled, secretly relieved. They switched positions and she lay back on the bed, placing her arms behind her head on the pillow.
Starting from her neck, Morris worked his way down her body with his lips. A moment later he was between her legs. Sheila moaned, thrusting her hips into his face, and he worked with her rhythm until she climaxed a few minutes later.
She caught her breath and sat up, noting happily that he was semihard again.
“My turn now.” She rolled him on his back and went down for the second time. He seemed more relaxed.
Five minutes later, he had a full erection and she stopped what she was doing with her mouth so she could straddle him. For a while, everything seemed fine, but a few moments later, it happened again. He was going soft.
Stifling her frustration, she asked him once more while she was still sitting on him. “Seriously, babe, is there something wrong with what I’m doing?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Morris’s tone was curt. He turned his face away. “I think I’m just tired.”
“Have you ever…” Sheila paused, searching for the right words. She had to tread very, very carefully here. “Have you ever had problems before?”
