champion in his corner, helping him make the major decisions in his life. She laughed wondering what major decisions he might have made at his tender age. But then she caught herself. She’s made major decisions when she was even younger than Tray; marrying Chet for example.
She’d been barely 18 years old. Yet her family, pleased that she had finally shown interest in a man, offered no objection, and quickly put together a pleasant little ceremony. The rest, as they say, was history.
Isabel groaned into the pillow and rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror. Where was her young, handsome golden boy when she needed him? Her body tingled as she relived memories of the previous night. Tray throwing her ankle up over his shoulder and leaning into her. Tray poised over her, his golden locks framing his sinfully handsome square jaw. Isabel tingled as she remembered moving her hands over his six-pack abdomen, squeezing the bulging biceps beneath his strong shoulders. He’d given her a few new moves she could share with her clients, and more importantly, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that her libido was alive and well again. Screaming with life, in fact.
He’d left before she had a chance to talk with him. She’d wanted to propose a longer-term short-term arrangement. Well, an arrangement. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to propose. She just knew that she might need more than one night to get her practice off the ground again. Maybe the truth was that she just wanted more, now that she’d had one night.
Now he was gone and the opportunity was lost. She could always go to The Shore again, but she doubted she could find anyone that would measure up to Tray. Now that she’d met him, her standards had been kicked up a notch.
Tray was not only hunky, he was sweet, kind, thoughtful. Isabel ticked off his positive traits in her head, realizing she sounded like a teenager with a crush. That was dangerous, because the truth was, she was wildly attracted to him. There seemed to be something between them beyond the electrical current that she chalked up to animal lust.
Could there be something beyond the shared interest in psychology? She knew that was wishful thinking. She often encouraged her clients to have more sex, better sex, because it was a given that strong emotional feelings of connection would naturally develop. But they were already married and committed to each other. She was acting like a teenager, falling into that old trap of dressing up her lust in a romantic fantasy, before there was any real emotional connection. Shame, shame, chided Isabel the doctor, overriding Isabel the woman, and rolling out of bed.
Isabel scooped up her clothes, which seemed to be strewn from one end of the house to the other, and threw them into the laundry basket. Saturday was wash day, but she’d decided that this long weekend she’d focus on getting her practice back on track. It was Thanksgiving and the girls were on a hiking trip. She’d cleared her calendar, even turning down a turkey dinner. She had the rest of her life to clean her house, but this weekend she needed to do some thinking about her practice and how to rev things up again with her clients. She’d worked too hard to let it all go down the drain now.
Waiting for coffee to brew, she poked around the kitchen, straightening tea towels and wiping counters. She picked up the stray newspapers in the living room and threw out yesterday’s cereal. But her heart was not in it as her body continued to hum from the night of lovemaking with Tray. She would never have imagined that someone his age could have that much experience and quiet confidence. Although he claimed to have no confidence, it fairly oozed out of him. And his energy. Energy that she was ready for. She knew that men reached their sexual prime in their late teens and women not until their mid-thirties. She could turn the tables on that biological mix-up. She was in her sexual prime and she deserved a
She’d been barely 18 years old. Yet her family, pleased that she had finally shown interest in a man, offered no objection, and quickly put together a pleasant little ceremony. The rest, as they say, was history.
Isabel groaned into the pillow and rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror. Where was her young, handsome golden boy when she needed him? Her body tingled as she relived memories of the previous night. Tray throwing her ankle up over his shoulder and leaning into her. Tray poised over her, his golden locks framing his sinfully handsome square jaw. Isabel tingled as she remembered moving her hands over his six-pack abdomen, squeezing the bulging biceps beneath his strong shoulders. He’d given her a few new moves she could share with her clients, and more importantly, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that her libido was alive and well again. Screaming with life, in fact.
He’d left before she had a chance to talk with him. She’d wanted to propose a longer-term short-term arrangement. Well, an arrangement. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to propose. She just knew that she might need more than one night to get her practice off the ground again. Maybe the truth was that she just wanted more, now that she’d had one night.
Now he was gone and the opportunity was lost. She could always go to The Shore again, but she doubted she could find anyone that would measure up to Tray. Now that she’d met him, her standards had been kicked up a notch.
Tray was not only hunky, he was sweet, kind, thoughtful. Isabel ticked off his positive traits in her head, realizing she sounded like a teenager with a crush. That was dangerous, because the truth was, she was wildly attracted to him. There seemed to be something between them beyond the electrical current that she chalked up to animal lust.
Could there be something beyond the shared interest in psychology? She knew that was wishful thinking. She often encouraged her clients to have more sex, better sex, because it was a given that strong emotional feelings of connection would naturally develop. But they were already married and committed to each other. She was acting like a teenager, falling into that old trap of dressing up her lust in a romantic fantasy, before there was any real emotional connection. Shame, shame, chided Isabel the doctor, overriding Isabel the woman, and rolling out of bed.
Isabel scooped up her clothes, which seemed to be strewn from one end of the house to the other, and threw them into the laundry basket. Saturday was wash day, but she’d decided that this long weekend she’d focus on getting her practice back on track. It was Thanksgiving and the girls were on a hiking trip. She’d cleared her calendar, even turning down a turkey dinner. She had the rest of her life to clean her house, but this weekend she needed to do some thinking about her practice and how to rev things up again with her clients. She’d worked too hard to let it all go down the drain now.
Waiting for coffee to brew, she poked around the kitchen, straightening tea towels and wiping counters. She picked up the stray newspapers in the living room and threw out yesterday’s cereal. But her heart was not in it as her body continued to hum from the night of lovemaking with Tray. She would never have imagined that someone his age could have that much experience and quiet confidence. Although he claimed to have no confidence, it fairly oozed out of him. And his energy. Energy that she was ready for. She knew that men reached their sexual prime in their late teens and women not until their mid-thirties. She could turn the tables on that biological mix-up. She was in her sexual prime and she deserved a
Similar Books
