The summer we met had been the kind of hot that made you dream of December. 

Like a houseguest who had overstayed their welcome, a warm front squatted over the region with no intentions of packing up or moving on. Those of us without air conditioning were forced outdoors in search of cooler temperatures, wherever we could find them. 

I found my respite at the market, in front of an open freezer. 

“Can I get in there?” said a male voice from over my shoulder. I turned, my breath catching like lace on a cat’s claws. He was even more disarming up-close—thick, dark curls, dark eyes, a strong, stubbled jaw. 

He was new to the neighborhood. I’d caught glimpses of him jogging on my way to work every morning. Then later, in front of his house, working on his car or washing it, often shirtless. Those evenings, my dog Pippa and I always managed to make it twice around the block. 

I stepped away from the reach-in case where I’d been loitering. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” The man had a smile like a sunrise; it lit up his entire face. He grabbed a bag of ice, then paused to study me. “Wait, don’t you live in the Dutch colonial two doors down from me? You have a dog. What’s her name?”

Warmth filled my cheeks; he’d noticed me creeping. “Pippa.”

“Cute name.” He offered his hand. “I’m Will.”

I shook his hand, praying my palms weren’t sweaty. “Lorelai.”

“Good to meet you, Lorelai.” He licked his lips as though he liked the taste of name. My own mouth tingled in response. “How long have you lived in—” 

“Is that you, Will?” Alma Crowley, Will’s and my next-door neighbor, drove her squeaky cart down the aisle toward us. “Oh, hey there, Lorelai. I almost didn’t recognize you out among the living.” 

I squeezed the handle on my grocery basket. “Hi, Alma.”

She leaned toward Will as though she were about to impart some big, juicy secret. The term busybody was an understatement when it came to Alma. You couldn’t prune a shrub without her poking her nose over the fence to see what you were up to. “Our Lorelai’s been a bit of a shut-in since the divorce.”

Will eyed me curiously. I half expected my face to start steaming. “Looks like you’re cooking for a horde, Alma,” he said, changing the subject. 

“My niece and her husband are bringing their kids up for the weekend. Adorable little terrors. We’re going to barbecue tomorrow evening, maybe toast some marshmallows.” She nabbed two bags of ice and set them in her cart. “You two should come over. Have a drink, cool off.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” said Will.

“It’s no imposition. There’ll be plenty of food. And Lorelai, it would be good for you to get out of the house, do something fun for a change.”

In all the years we’d been neighbors, I had never once taken Alma up on her offers to use her pool. It didn’t matter how humid it was; I wasn’t going to give her another chance to stick her nose where it didn’t belong.

The day the moving truck had arrived to pick up my ex-husband’s things, Alma Crowley stood on her porch and watched as every box and piece of furniture made its way onto the truck. Afterward, she showed up at my house with a bottle of Jack and a shoulder to cry on. A divorcee herself, Alma claimed to understand what I was going through. But as the night wore on, she began to exhibit an almost schadenfreudian glee about the situation. Like it pleased her to be ushering another woman into the lonely-hearts club.

“Trust me,” she’d said. “Everything happens for a reason.”

“And what reason is that?” I snapped; I may have been a bit drunk by that point. “What’s the grand scheme behind my marriage falling apart? If you know what it is, tell me, because I have no fucking clue.”

“I don’t know, honey. Fate likes to keep her cards close to her chest. I just think the sooner you accept the fact that he’s not coming back, the sooner you can move on.”

I didn’t want to move on. I wanted my happy ever after, the one I’d fought for and lost. “I think you should go,” I’d said, and no matter how many invites she tossed in my direction after that, I never went over. 

“Sounds like fun,” said Will, pulling me back to the freezer section. “Maybe I’ll see you there, too, Lorelai?”

I pretended to be interested in a frozen lasagna. “I have some stuff to do tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Will.”

I made a break for the checkout, feeling secure in my resolve. The new neighbor was gorgeous, do doubt about it, but I’d had my fill of dating and relationships. I was content. In my house and in my work. And I wasn’t about to risk that contentment on someone I’d have trouble avoiding when things inevitably fell apart. 

The crush had been fun while it lasted; I could pat myself on the back for getting out before I got crushed. 

* * *

No breeze rustled the curtains. The sheet felt damp under my back. 

It was too hot to sleep.

Normally, when I felt restless, I’d rub one out and let the post-orgasmic haze lull me into unconsciousness. Sweat-soaked and overheated, I couldn’t imagine getting hotter and more bothered than I already was. 

But that didn’t stop my mind from going there. 

It’d been two years since I had sex, but I hadn’t forgotten what it was like to have a man’s lips on my neck, and his hard, pulsing cock in my fist. Of course, Will’s was the first face I imagined. Will’s mouth on me, his cock in my hand.

My pelvic muscles tightened at the thought. I considered raiding my bedside drawer for a toy, but the effort alone would’ve been too much. I scowled at the ceiling fan and thought about going to get a glass of water, till I remembered that after everything, I’d forgotten to buy ice. 

The sheet stuck to my back as I tossed and turned, then rolled to face the window. No lights shone from inside Alma Crowley’s house. I pictured her sleeping soundly in her air-conditioned bedroom, her criticisms from that afternoon echoing in my mind: I was a shut-in who didn’t know how to have a good time.

It was an unfair assessment. Just because my idea of fun didn’t involve getting tipsy at potlucks didn’t mean I was miserable. Ever since the divorce, I had made a point to pamper myself with calorie-rich foods, and pedicures, to say nothing about my extensive sex toy collection. I was perfectly capable of indulging myself when I wanted to.

And tonight, I wanted to. 

Tossing back the sheet, I rose from the bed and threw on a T-shirt and shorts. Pippa lifted her head from where she lay sprawled out on her dog bed. I told her to stay, then padded downstairs, out the back door and into the night.

The moon was bright enough to see by. I didn’t bother trying the gate in case I tripped the censor light on Alma Crowley’s garage. Instead, I opted for the stepladder I’d been using to paint my shutters. 

Once I was over the fence, I moved silently across her yard, though I doubted she could hear me with all her windows closed. Moonlight glinted off the ripples on the built-in pool. Feeling giddy, I stripped out of my tank top and shorts, and made my way around to the shallow end of the pool. 

A soft moan floated from my lips as I descended the four large steps. Even at lukewarm, the water felt delicious against my hot skin. Dunking under to wet my hair, I propelled myself toward the center of the pool, then resurfaced. I wiped the water from my eyes and breathed a contented sigh.

“Feels great, doesn’t it?”

“Jesus!” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Will’s voice. I scanned the water until I spotted him, tucked around the bend in the kidney-shaped pool. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing you are,” he said. “Taking a midnight dip. Sorry if I scared you.”

He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded amused. I moved to cover myself, though I doubted he could see me in the dark. “Why didn’t you announce yourself?”

“Calling out wouldn’t have been very smart, since I’m not supposed to be here. And seeing as how you snuck in over the fence, I’m guessing neither are you.”

“Not exactly.”   

Will swam away from the side, pushing himself toward the center, toward me. His teeth glinted. “Honestly? I was admiring the view.”

“Were you, now?” My tongue felt clumsy, too big for my mouth. Figures, the one thing I was trying to avoid would be waiting for me in the place I wasn’t allowed to go. It was like fate was challenging me to sin harder. And there was no denying that Will was sexy as sin. 

He sidled up to me, the drops of water on his well-toned chest and arms sparkling like diamonds. “I know you were checking me out on your nightly walks with Pippa.”

I aimed my smile at the water. He’d remembered my dog’s name. “Was I that obvious?”

“No. I only noticed because I was checking you out, too.”

A warm shiver rippled across my skin; I felt as though I’d been dropped into a glass of champagne. I floated onto my back before I recalled that I was naked. 

My nipples puckered to tight peaks. I wondered if Will was staring at my breasts, licking his lips and imagining what they might taste like. Arousal skittered like pebbles in a rainstick from the apex of my thighs to the tips of my fingers and toes. 

“You know,” he said, “the first time I saw you I couldn’t take my eyes off you, especially your legs.”

My legs had always been one of my best features. I’d often wear skirts when I walked Pippa, hoping Will might notice. I righted myself in the water, planting my feet so I could press my thighs together. 

Will swam closer. “I thought about you later that night. About what it would feel like to kneel in front of you on the sidewalk and have you drape your skirt over my head. I wondered what color panties you’d be wearing.”

I wondered if Will could read the desire on my face as clearly as I could read his, plain as white chalk on blacktop. I took a shuddering breath. “Have you thought about me since then?”

Will nodded. “Every night.” 

He drifted closer until we were close enough to touch. Then, he touched me, gliding his hand up my arm to rest on my shoulder. 

“You should let me kiss you, Lorelai.” His thumb stroked my collarbone. I caught my chin tilting upward of its own accord. 

“Why should I?”

“Because I think you wanted to kiss me at the market today. And I’d very much like to kiss you now.”

God, I wanted to kiss him. The man was a tall drink of water on a hot summer’s day, and I was dying of thirst. But I’d been telling myself no for so long I’d almost forgotten how to say yes. Will cradled my jaw. I closed my eyes and offered him my mouth. 

“Then kiss me,” I said.

His lips were wet from the pool. In an instant, everything I once knew about giving a truly great kiss came rushing back. Will was an excellent kisser. He knew just how much tongue to use, when to pull back, how tight to hold me so that I felt cradled by him rather than trapped. 

Strange things can happen to your body when you go a long time without physical contact. After the cravings subside, you start to forget what it feels like to be touched. So the next time someone touches you, it’s disorienting. I was hyper-aware of every inch of my skin when Will pulled me close. Hooking my arms around him, I pressed my nipples to his chest. He seemed to like that, judging by the erection nudging my groin through his swim trunks. 

His hand slid to the small of my back. I arched against him. There was no point in fighting it anymore. I wanted this, emotional equilibrium be damned.

Wrapping one leg around Will’s hips, I wedged his erection between my thighs. The hand at my jaw slid down to cup my breast. I moaned into Will’s mouth as he teased my nipple with his fingers. He broke the kiss, teeth scraping my chin as he trailed kisses down my neck.

“I knew you were gorgeous with your clothes on, but damn. Naked, you are something else.” Will pushed my breasts together, lifting them above the surface so he could taste my nipples. 

I scrunched my fingers around his thick, damp hair. Will licked and sucked my nipples like they were made of maple sugar. My clit throbbed, deprived and jealous, as I ground against his cock.

He gripped my ass with both hands and recaptured my mouth. I didn’t realize we were moving until we were all the way back in the shallow end. He lifted me from the water and settled me onto the concrete lip. Standing in the pool with his body fitted between my legs, his mouth was at the perfect height to continue worshipping my nipples. His palms smoothed up my thighs as he kissed a line from my breasts to my navel. 

 “Lie back,” he rasped. 

My pulse fluttered like birds’ wings. I reclined as Will hooked his hands beneath my knees and spread them. Biting my knuckle, I counted my heartbeats and waited for him to do the thing I couldn't do for myself.  

Will’s tongue drew a warm trail from my opening to my clit. I felt the salacious hum that followed like the vibrations from a tuning fork. He teased my clit, circling it a few times before closing his lips around it. I clamped a hand over my mouth to suppress the moan that would’ve no doubt roused the neighborhood. 

Lapping, sucking, swirling. He took his time trying everything until he learned exactly what I needed, when and how I liked it. I couldn’t believe I had gone so long without letting myself have this. I played with my breasts, ratcheting my pleasure even higher. Will watched from between my legs, his gaze dark and hungry. 

That look was enough to propel me towards the point of no return. Just a few more licks, a few more seconds...

Every muscle in my body tightened. My clit throbbed. Pleasure, sweet and heady like whiskey in my veins, gushed outward from my core as I came. The hard nub where all that glorious sensation stemmed from pulsed beneath Will’s tongue. It was all I could do to keep my thighs from crushing his head. 

The grin on his face as he rose to kiss my stomach made my chest flush hotter. I sat up, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as he guided me back into the cool water. We kissed. I sucked his tongue like a small cock, which made his actual cock twitch. 

He was maddeningly overdressed.

Sliding my hand into the waistband of his trunks, I encircled his cock with my fist. Will groaned, a sound that straddled the line between pain and pleasure. I began to stroke. His hands were everywhere. Behind my neck, in my hair, down my arms and back. All the while, he thrust into my fist in time with my motions. 

“Christ,” he rasped, “that feels good. I’m so fucking hard.” 

I imagined his long, hard cock thrusting into me with the same care and determination with which he’d pleasured me with his tongue. “I know it’s a shot in the dark, but do you have something?”

“Back at my house.” He nipped my earlobe. “Come over.”

A seed of hesitation sprouted in my gut. Fooling around in our neighbor’s pool had been fun and illicit partly because it was on neutral territory. If I went home with Will, to the bed where he slept in the house where he lived, it would mean something. 

“We can go to yours if you’d rather,” he said, sensing my hesitation. “But I think my fence is easier to hop.” He kissed my neck. When I still didn’t respond, he stopped to look at me. “What’s the matter?”

I withdrew my hand from his trunks. He tilted his head, confused. I sighed. “It’s just... It took me a long time to get to a place where I felt okay on my own. I guess I'm afraid if I start something, I’ll lose all my progress and end up back where I was. I can’t go back there.” 

Will took my hands in his, then kissed my palms. “Lorelai, this doesn’t have to be more than just two people having fun, unless you want it to. I was married once. I know how crushing divorce can be, even when it’s the right thing to do. The fact that you were able to put yourself back together once is a good indication of how resilient you are.”

A smile tugged at my cheeks. I let him draw me close. I let him kiss me. I let him run his hands up and down my body, as he whispered in my ear those three magic words: “I have A/C.” 

I grabbed my clothes and let him help me over the chain-link fence separating his property from Alma’s. His trunks came off as soon as we crashed through the back door of his house. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t a long walk from Will’s kitchen to his bathroom where we toweled off briskly before stumbling into his bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched him roll on a condom. I didn’t know why, but something about watching him do it turned me on. Maybe it was the expert way he handled himself, or the connotations of what a condom meant. Either way, it was red-hot. 

There’s an element of surprise you just don’t get from masturbation, a tickle of anticipation from not knowing what the other person will do next. I shifted backward on the bed so Will could climb on. Grasping my ankles, he brought my legs up and over his shoulders, then positioned his cock at my folds. 

After a few teasing swipes across my clitoris, he thrust into me. I was so wet, he had no trouble seating himself to the hilt. His cock radiated heat, unlike a toy. As much as I loved my toys, it felt good to have a body attached to the thing that was inside me. He licked his thumb and then reached down to stroke my clit as he moved. The combined inner and outer stimulation had me thrumming and my insides barreling towards another climax. 

My inner muscles gripped him. Will began to move faster, his gorgeous face scrunching into a look of pure focus. 

I moaned as my orgasm roared through me. Jaw clenched and eyes pinched, Will gave it to me in short, powerful bursts. His abs flexed and his hands tightened around my ankles. He cursed. His body tensed, and I swore I felt his cock pulsing inside me as he came. 

“Fuck...” Will let my legs fall to the side as he bent to rest his head on my chest. “That was...” 

I combed my fingers through his hair. “That was something.”

“Yeah.” He kissed the spot between my breasts. “It was.”

I didn’t intend to spend the night. I only meant to rest my eyes for a few minutes. But minutes turned to hours, and the next time I opened them, it was morning.

Carefully, I extricated myself from Will’s sheets and then went in search of my clothes. I found them in a pile in the kitchen. I’d just pulled on my shorts when Will came shuffling in, his bedhead sexy as hell.

“G’morning.” He smiled sleepily. “Want some breakfast? I make a mean huevos rancheros.” 

A guy who can fix your car, rev your engine and cook you breakfast? It was too good to be true. So much so that, hungry as I was, I had to draw a line. “Thanks, but I have to go feed Pippa.”

“Right, yeah. Of course.” He combed a hand through his hair. “Can I see you later?”

There it was again, that twinge of apprehension. I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t a good idea, but the words lodged in my throat. I thought about what he’d said last night, about my resiliency. I’d had my heart torn to pieces and lived to tell the tale. If I could survive that, I could survive anything—including a pool party at Alma Crowley’s house.

“I’d like that,” I said.

We made plans to arrive at Alma’s barbecue together. Then I kissed him goodbye—twice—and left via the front door. 

Of course, Alma had to be drinking coffee on her porch as I passed her house.

“Looks like someone had a late night,” she called. I didn’t bother trying to hide my flush. She laughed and slapped the arm of her chair, then said, "It’s about damn time, sweetheart!"

---

More by Rachel:

Haunted Hearts: A Ghost Story
Little Red
Make It Right