that part of the house since he’d finished tucking himself in. She’d probably dropped right off to sleep, sprawled all over her comfortable bed. He wondered if there was another pillow stuffed into that miniscule linen closet.
He pushed back the blanket and quilt and tiptoed across the room, feeling gooseflesh crawl down his back. The chill had surprised him, as well. It had been fairly warm today, and he hadn’t expected the temperatures to drop off as much as they had. Another one of those weird mountain things, he supposed.
He was shivering by the time he got to the linen closet. Carefully, he turned the knob and opened the door. It squeaked a little and he grimaced, looking toward Joely’s door. Surely she hadn’t heard that. He poked his head into the closet, squinting in the darkness, and made out the lump of a pillow.
“Aha!” he whispered, and dragged it out. It had a pillowcase on it and everything. What luck.
He saw the shadow move out of the corner of his eye. It was a person, and it wielded something large and probably dangerous. He wheeled automatically, lifting the pillow to protect himself.
“Get out of my house! What the hell do you think you’re doing in my house?” The screeching voice was barely recognizable as Joely’s. Rey cringed, waiting for her to hit him, but whatever she had, she was only brandishing it.
“Joely! Joely, it’s me!” He peeked around the edge of the pillow. She barely had her eyes open.
“Get out get out get out — ” Her litany suddenly broke off. She shook her head and lowered her weapon, which proved to be a golf club. She reached toward the wall switch, and a moment later, the hallway was flooded with light. Cautiously, Rey lowered the pillow.
Joely regarded him with bleary eyes, blinking against the sudden light. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”
He looked at the golf club in her hand. One of his old Big Bertha wood drivers, if he wasn’t mistaken. “Good God, Joely, you could have killed me with that thing!”
To her credit, Joely looked chagrined. “I said I was sorry. I was having a dream and I heard you in the hallway and I woke up. I’m not used to having somebody else in my house.”
“No wonder, if this is the way you treat your houseguests.” Suddenly, he realized there was more of interest here than his old golf club — and he’d been wondering for a while where that had gotten off to. Joely had on dark purple flannel pajamas. Sexy ones, with lace trim around the neck and sleeves. The top button had come undone and Rey could see the inside curves of her breasts. She looked tousled from sleep, much as she’d used to look after sex. Except for the red sheet marks on her face, but that didn’t detract from the effect enough to stop Rey’s cock from springing to abrupt attention.
He was at a great disadvantage, standing there in nothing but a pair of white cotton briefs. Joely, apparently seeing the shift in his gaze, looked right at his crotch.
“Forget it, Rey.” She spoke the words directly to his burgeoning erection, which ignored them completely. Then she spun on her heel, dragging Rey’s golf club behind her, and went back into her bedroom.
“God, this sucks,” said Rey, and headed back toward the couch. He should have known better than to think he could be this close to her without suffering for it. He wanted to be with her, not just near her.
Now he’d never get back to sleep.
• • •
There was no sleeping for Joely, either. She lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, smashing and re-smashing her pillow, muttering to herself and generally becoming thoroughly involved in an intense case of insomnia.
She couldn’t get the image out of her head — of Rey in nothing but his underwear, erection straining against the thin cotton. She had been able to see every detail — the curve of it, the demarcation between shaft and head. She hadn’t seen him that thoroughly aroused since a few months after their honeymoon.
He pushed back the blanket and quilt and tiptoed across the room, feeling gooseflesh crawl down his back. The chill had surprised him, as well. It had been fairly warm today, and he hadn’t expected the temperatures to drop off as much as they had. Another one of those weird mountain things, he supposed.
He was shivering by the time he got to the linen closet. Carefully, he turned the knob and opened the door. It squeaked a little and he grimaced, looking toward Joely’s door. Surely she hadn’t heard that. He poked his head into the closet, squinting in the darkness, and made out the lump of a pillow.
“Aha!” he whispered, and dragged it out. It had a pillowcase on it and everything. What luck.
He saw the shadow move out of the corner of his eye. It was a person, and it wielded something large and probably dangerous. He wheeled automatically, lifting the pillow to protect himself.
“Get out of my house! What the hell do you think you’re doing in my house?” The screeching voice was barely recognizable as Joely’s. Rey cringed, waiting for her to hit him, but whatever she had, she was only brandishing it.
“Joely! Joely, it’s me!” He peeked around the edge of the pillow. She barely had her eyes open.
“Get out get out get out — ” Her litany suddenly broke off. She shook her head and lowered her weapon, which proved to be a golf club. She reached toward the wall switch, and a moment later, the hallway was flooded with light. Cautiously, Rey lowered the pillow.
Joely regarded him with bleary eyes, blinking against the sudden light. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”
He looked at the golf club in her hand. One of his old Big Bertha wood drivers, if he wasn’t mistaken. “Good God, Joely, you could have killed me with that thing!”
To her credit, Joely looked chagrined. “I said I was sorry. I was having a dream and I heard you in the hallway and I woke up. I’m not used to having somebody else in my house.”
“No wonder, if this is the way you treat your houseguests.” Suddenly, he realized there was more of interest here than his old golf club — and he’d been wondering for a while where that had gotten off to. Joely had on dark purple flannel pajamas. Sexy ones, with lace trim around the neck and sleeves. The top button had come undone and Rey could see the inside curves of her breasts. She looked tousled from sleep, much as she’d used to look after sex. Except for the red sheet marks on her face, but that didn’t detract from the effect enough to stop Rey’s cock from springing to abrupt attention.
He was at a great disadvantage, standing there in nothing but a pair of white cotton briefs. Joely, apparently seeing the shift in his gaze, looked right at his crotch.
“Forget it, Rey.” She spoke the words directly to his burgeoning erection, which ignored them completely. Then she spun on her heel, dragging Rey’s golf club behind her, and went back into her bedroom.
“God, this sucks,” said Rey, and headed back toward the couch. He should have known better than to think he could be this close to her without suffering for it. He wanted to be with her, not just near her.
Now he’d never get back to sleep.
• • •
There was no sleeping for Joely, either. She lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, smashing and re-smashing her pillow, muttering to herself and generally becoming thoroughly involved in an intense case of insomnia.
She couldn’t get the image out of her head — of Rey in nothing but his underwear, erection straining against the thin cotton. She had been able to see every detail — the curve of it, the demarcation between shaft and head. She hadn’t seen him that thoroughly aroused since a few months after their honeymoon.
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