Page 12 of Rascal

Sarah, along with Remi, blushed. Meg wondered if they’d share the stories or deny them.

A warm hand on her arm had her turning to see Rascal waiting for her. “Can I have this dance?”

She nodded, then turned back to the women. “I’m looking forward to hearing all the stories about you all, but right now, I need to dance with my man.”

Chapter Eight

Meg stood in the bathroom, looking in the mirror. When they’d come in the house, she’d been bound and determined to take the next step with Rascal, but once she’d showered and put on nightclothes, the doubts overwhelmed her.

Would he be disgusted with her body? Would he catalogue every gray hair she had, every roll and every wrinkle? She couldn’t get the words of that jerk of a professor out of her mind that she should be grateful for anything. She didn’t want to be grateful. She wanted to be desired. Rascal had gotten hard multiple times but maybe it had just been a long time for him. Was he really interested in seeing her naked and being with her?

A little knock on the door had her checking she’d locked it.

“Meg, if you’ve changed your mind, I still want to hold you tonight. We don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready.”

How did she answer him? She wanted to rip his clothes off, climb him like a tree, and experience everything she’d read about and never experienced, but she wasn’t brave. She was fifty-nine and feeling every one of those years in the wrinkles and rolls on her body.

“Meg, are you okay? Can I come in?”

His voice was sounding a little frantic. This man had been a dream to her, and she was standing in the bathroom, making him worry something was wrong. The only thing wrong was she wasn’t brave. She was scared to death because if he rejected her, she wasn’t sure she could survive with her heart intact.

She reached over and unlocked the door, pulling it open. Rascal stood in the doorway with his glasses on and a pair of pajama pants. Colorful tattoos decorated his chest, along with a sprinkling of hair that arrowed down to his waist. His eyes traveled down her almost like a caress.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful. I think I’m going to need to make you come before I ever let myself inside you because I’m not sure I’ll last once I’m there.”

His hand reached out and grasped her waist along what she considered one of her worst attributes. It wasn’t a muffin top. It was a lot of extra fat around her waist.

“Woman, in a T-shirt and shorts, you have me ready to come in my pants. I’m not sure how I’ll survive when you’re naked and I can see every lush inch of you.”

She’d discount his words if she couldn’t see the heat blazing in his eyes and the smile of anticipation on his face. He pulled her close, rubbing himself against her mound. Rascal wasn’t a little hard. He was so hard she could feel him like a steel pole against her. No man that found her lacking would be that hard.

“So, you still haven’t said a word. I’m thinking you’re worried about me seeing you naked, so I’m going to warn you. The gray in my beard isn’t the only gray.”

She glanced at his chest, then ran her fingers through the hair, feeling the difference in the hairs. The gray hairs were a little coarser.

“We’re not in our twenties and thank fuck for that. I wouldn’t go back for anything. The years show on my body, and I creak when I get up. I don’t want the youngster who hasn’t experienced life. I want the woman whose voice sent shivers down my spine the first time she spoke to me. The woman who I can talk to forever and then still have more to say. The woman who enjoys good food with me and doesn’t worry about the calories. The woman whose lush curves, full tits and juicy ass make me hard every time I see you. I want the woman that, as our looks fade, still is the only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Meg swallowed, wondering how he knew exactly what she needed to hear.

“Then I guess we need to move into the bedroom so I can feel you make love to me for the last first time we’ll have.”

His grin and the light in his eyes had her smiling back. He leaned over and kissed her, then took her hand and led her into the bedroom. He slid his pants down his thighs, then stepped out of them. “I thought you’d feel more comfortable with me naked first.”

She gazed at what he’d uncovered and sure, some of the hair framing his cock had some gray, but his dick was hard and a darkened red color. She reached toward it and his hand caught hers, laying it on his abs instead. “Let’s wait until we’re on the bed. I really don’t want to spill before I’m inside you and honestly, it will be more than I can take if your fingers wrap around me.”

His hands slid over her, divesting her of her T-shirt and then were sliding her shorts down her thighs, caressing the flesh revealed as they dropped to the floor. Rascal made a sound in his throat as he slid his hand up to her mound.

Each touch of his fingers had her wanting him to touch her more. He paused, then looked at the floor, then her.

“I’d love to get on the floor and worship you, but it would be really embarrassing if I had to have help up off the floor, so let me lay you down here.” His hands followed his words, guiding her to lay on the bed, and then he knelt beside her. His hands trailed across her chest until his fingers were grasping her nipples, followed by his lips, kissing and nibbling.

She grasped the bed sheet, not knowing what he wanted her to do. His hands roamed down, the slight roughness of his fingers had her trembling. She squirmed, needing more.

“Rascal, I need...” she moaned.

“You just relax and let me worship this body I get to have forever. I’ll get you there.”

She tried to relax, but each caress, each graze of his lips, had her spiraling faster. His hands parted her thighs as he settled himself between them. His warm breath against her flesh and his beard rasping along her had her wanting to grab his head and bring him closer. Her hands fluttered, then fell back to the bed. His hand reached over and placed her hand on his head.

---