Most Likely to Score
My panties are gone in seconds, and I climb on him.
I know why this turns me on so much.
It’s because he’s getting off to me, even when he’s by himself. I think that will always turn me on because it makes me feel so wonderfully wanted.
Right now, I want to show him how much.
He lets go of his dick, grabs my hips, and brings me down on him. I draw a sharp gasp as he fills me completely.
He’s completely bare.
I’m on birth control, and he’s safe, and I love the feel of us like this. Together. No barriers. He moves me up and down, and with every stroke, I moan. I breathe out hard. I shudder.
I’m not sure how sex that’s been this good can become even better, but as he runs a hand up my back and into my hair, I’m given the answer.
It comes as he brings my face near to his. “Need you closer to me.”
He’s never held back in bed. He’s always made it clear where he stands between the sheets. This man has the biggest appetite. He wants more of me, as much as he can have. And I love giving myself to him. He makes me feel beautiful, sexy, and alluring.
He makes me feel like I’m all he needs.
As he draws me closer, telling me to ride him harder, faster, rougher because it’s so fucking good, it’s all so fucking good with me, I know he’s all I’ll ever need.
A little later, as we lie in bed, sated and sweaty, he positions us so I’m in the crook of his arm. “You know you can sleep on me anytime, right?”
“I do know that, since I sleep on you every night.”
“Sleep on me, sleep with me. I love it all,” he says, then he shifts to his side and drops a kiss on my nose. “I love you. Have I told you that today?”
“Maybe ten times?”
“Let’s make it eleven.” He kisses a trail up my neck to my ear, and I tremble again, then I shudder as he says, “I’m so in love with you.”
Cletus jumps on the bed, wagging his tail and plopping down between us.
“He’s also in love with you,” Jones says as I rub the dog’s little head.
“I love him, too. And the other guy as well,” I say when a soft paw swipes my shoulder. I crane my neck to see Smoky sitting on my pillow, purring.
Cletus and Smoky are good buddies now, ever since we adopted the orange kitten as soon as he was ready for his fur-ever home.
The four of us fall asleep.
When we wake up together the next morning, Jones whispers in my ear, “Told you I like waking up next to you.”
Then he shows me why it’s my favorite way to wake up, too.
Jones
A week later, we’re at another restaurant, and Jillian’s boss holds up the charity calendar before the crowd.
“And look at February,” Lily says, showing off the cat and me at the winery.
The crowd cheers, and I wave from my spot next to her.
“And how about March?” That’s the shot from Stinson Beach.
More hoots and hollers abound.
When we make it to the Miami shots, my heart beats a little faster, and I look to Jillian, standing at the bar. Love those, I mouth to her.
Me, too, she replies.
They remind me of the best play I ever made. The one for her heart.
Another epilogue
Jillian
Several months later
Jones’s mom doesn’t need any help in the kitchen, but I offer anyway. I always do, since I’m so often here in the off-season.
“Yes, if you could grab the salad from the fridge, that would be great,” she says.
“I can do that,” I say, snagging the bowl and setting it on the dinner table.
It’s Sunday supper, and Jones, his siblings, his dad, and his mom are here. Oh, someone else is here, too. My dad. He doesn’t live far away, and he’s not terribly busy, so I picked him up on the way, and I love that he’s become part of these get-togethers.
He and Jones’s parents get along well. They talk about politics, sports, and the state of the world. Sometimes they do that thing the older generation does—they chat about how much harder it was when they were growing up. Those of us in the younger generation laugh and roll our eyes.
As I sit at the table with some of my favorite people, I mostly listen. I listen to my dad ask thoughtful questions about local town issues, I listen to Trevor share details of his beer show, and I listen to Jones’s dad as he compliments his wife on the dinner, and on how pretty she looks.
In moments like these, I see where the gentleman in Jones came from—from his family. From these people he loves to the ends of the earth and back. As I raise a glass of iced tea and take a sip, I remember the night in wine country when I wished that someday I would be able to come here and bring wine and flowers. Now I have, and now I do, and it fills my heart with so much joy that I know my mom would say all the choices I made that brought me here were the right ones.
They were. They absolutely were.
As the meal ends, Jones clears his throat. “There’s something I wanted to bring up.”
“Yes, my dear?” his mother asks.
“And since everyone is here, this seems as good a time as any.”
My dad looks deliberately away from me, as if he’s avoiding eye contact. I’m not sure why, but he doesn’t look at Jones, either. Not as Jones rises, not as he walks to me, and not as he takes my hand.
“What is it?”
“Jillian, I love you madly, and I have loved nothing more than taking you out on dates, showing you off, making you happy, and making sure the world knows you’re spoken for.”
“You’ve done a pretty good job of that,” I say, wondering why he needed to get up from his chair to say it. Then, a possibility flashes before my eyes. Fireworks light up inside me, bursting with a daring, crazy hope.
The hope is answered as he drops down to one knee. I gasp and bring a hand to my mouth as he takes a blue velvet box from his pocket. “The only thing I want more is for you to be spoken for always. For the rest of our lives. Because I want you to be the rest of my life. I love you so much, baby. Will you marry me?”
The fireworks crackle. They spark. They fill the night sky with a brilliant display of all the colors, all the brightness, and all the wonder as I say yes. “You’re my good luck,” I whisper, and he whispers back, “You’re mine.”
He slides a huge diamond solitaire onto my ring finger and kisses me in front of his family and in front of mine, and this is more than I could ever have hoped for long ago, and now it’s all I want.
Him with me, always.
That night, as we head to a local hotel, I can’t stop staring at my ring. “You are absolutely getting lucky tonight.”
He pumps a fist. “Then I’d say I’ve scored.”
THE END