Crazy Girl(40)

“I want you,” she whispered.

And that was all it took—we were in the bed, bodies tangled, moans and hot breaths, her hair brushing my chest and face, my hands groping, her body arching as I made her come. And what a sight it was to see her come undone. She was someone else in bed; a different being than the woman I had come to know. In the entire time we had spent together, she seemed to constantly be riding the line between knowing her worth and not knowing who she was at all. But naked, in the throes of passion, where a woman might feel most vulnerable, she was confident; unafraid. And once again, the crazy girl surprised me.

When we were finished, she lay her head on my shoulder, her leg thrown over mine, and let her body relax into me. She didn’t speak and neither did I. We just touched, caressed, until we drifted to sleep. Or at least I did. She tossed and turned.

“Bro…what’s with you?” Kegs asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You have a weird look on your face. You gotta drop a deuce or something?”

I snorted out a laugh. “Yeah…that’s it. I’m constipated.”

“You look…off. You tired from being up all night or what?”

“You need to go home and see your wife,” I joked. “Or go jerk off. You seem a little too interested in my activities.”

He groaned. “I know.” He hadn’t seen Tracey in over three weeks, and I knew he was in need of some attention from his wife, as any man would be. Luckily with all the technological advances, they were able to video chat to “connect” that way, but it was never as good as the real thing. Kegs never gave a lot of detail about their sex life—it had to do with his wife and he certainly wasn’t offering any vivid details about her to another man, even his best friend.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and when I checked it, it was a text from Hannah.

Hannah: Just pulling in the parking lot. Should I just come in?

Me: Yes. Have a seat in the lobby and I’ll be there in a few…with coffee.

Hannah: My hero.

I smiled after reading her text. “Hannah’s out in the lobby,” I informed him as I shoved my phone back in my pocket. I filled two foam cups and headed for the door. Kegs stood and opened the door for me, and we walked out to the lobby, ready to get our mission for the day started. Here went nothing…





“But when people say, Did you always want to be a writer?

I have to say no! I always was a writer.”

-Ursula Le Guin





I was seated on a red leather couch in the lobby when Wren appeared, both hands filled with steaming cups, another handsome guy walking beside him. When our eyes met, there was a smile in his stare that hit me and made me grin. He was dressed in a tight-fitted t-shirt that had the Morrison company logo on it. Add in his cargo pants, boots, and black hat that framed his face, I couldn’t look away from him.

“Hey there,” Wren said as he handed me one of the cups.

“Thank you,” I moaned, taking it and blowing at it. The liquid moved around in waves. “You’re saving my life.” I hadn’t slept at all the night before; restless and anxious about the evening’s events. I couldn’t believe how far things had gone. And though I didn’t regret what we did, I still worried about what impression it would leave. Would Wren think I was even crazier than he already did, given that one minute I was accusing him of trying to sleep with me and the next I was forcing myself on him? I couldn’t blame him if he did, I really had been a walking contradiction.

Flashes of the night before flickered through my mind and my cheeks heated before I’d taken a single sip of the coffee. I had entered his bedroom single-minded, wanting one thing so much I couldn’t see straight, but Wren had given me something different, something completely unexpected. Something that sated me physically, but had touched my heart as well. I hadn’t expected the heart part.

I didn’t realize how ravenous I was for physical intimacy, the contact of a man, until I felt Wren press his large, naked body to mine.

“I’m Kegs,” the tall man standing next to Wren added as he reached out a hand. I stood and shook hands with him.

“Hannah,” I told him. “Nice to meet you.” Kegs nearly matched Wren in height, but Wren’s build was bigger—he was broader. Kegs was the kind of man a woman couldn’t help but look at, with his piercing blue eyes and dark hair with the slightest hints of gray. I guessed he was about as old as Wren, but his face had aged well, which paired with his slightly salt-and-pepper hair, adding to his looks.

They both took a seat on the couch across from me. “The guys are getting the cars ready,” Wren informed me before sipping his coffee. Right. Coffee. I took a sip from my own cup. God. That was good.

I turned my attention back to the guys. Kegs glanced down at my feet and pointed as he looked to Wren. “Dude. You didn’t tell her to wear tennis shoes?”

Glancing down at my flip-flop-clad feet, I frowned. I probably should have asked what the appropriate dress attire was. I practically lived in flip-flops and hadn’t really thought about it. I thought about everything else but that. “I didn’t bring tennis shoes,” I confessed.

“Those will work, I guess, but we’ll be doing quite a bit of walking today,” Wren responded, a concerned look seizing his features. “I didn’t even think about it. I’m sorry.”