Archive | December 2014

Snowed – Part 18

snowed cover image for blogAfter his conversation with Chester, Mike goes over to see Jessamyn, only to find Molly sitting there too. She and Jesse feel compelled to lecture him about his behavior. Finally fed up, he loses his temper.

“Okay!” I’d had it. “Enough! I’m sorry, okay? I was drunk, horny, happy for the first time in my entire life and a beautiful, sexy woman expressed an interest. No man in his right mind is going to say no. I didn’t force that woman into my bed. Am I ashamed? Not at all. Would I do it again? Hell, yes! Can I remember who she was? No. And I’m sorry. And I’m trying like hell to remember so I an call her and say Hey, thank you! If she wanted me to know who she was, she should of signed her name and left her number. But she didn’t. So quit bugging the absolute shit outta me over this? Please?”

I hadn’t intended to say so much, but the words kept coming like a dam broke. I couldn’t have stopped my mouth from running if someone held a gun to my head. I had to get it off my chest, cause it was bugging the hell out of me how she was treating me.

“And the one last night?” She raised an eyebrow.

“You spyin’ on me?” It came out a lot more accusatory than I intended.

She gave me a look that told me that was exactly what she was doing. Maybe she was waiting for Mystery Date to come back? Anyhow, she gives me this smile of satisfaction.

“Her I remember. Deidre’s mom, Simone. Hell of a looker and a real tiger in the sack. Very aggressive,” I added, raising the mug of coffee Jesse had poured during my tirade. “Knows what she wants and goes for it. Last night, she wanted me. . . . And some this morning. . . .” I took a sip, looking like butter wouldn’t melt and all that.

“Sowing a lot of wild oats, Michael,” was Jesse’s soft reprimand.

“Suddenly, Big Mike’s in demand. And they do not call me Big Mike cause I’m tall and muscular.” My turn to raise an eyebrow and look very self-satisfied.

Jesse burst out laughing. Molly wasn’t happy with my reproof or my none to subtle compliment of my private dimensions. But it got to her eventually and she started to giggle. Pretty soon, we were all whooping it up. Molly was all for pulling down my pants and having a look, but I put the quash on that idea pretty damn fast. Not that I’m ashamed of what I’m packing. I wasn’t gonna share that with two women old enough to be my mother and grandmother.

We settled the question of the motel and I made the reservations. I called Chester with the information and decided to go to the Super Wal-Mart. Molly went with me to help me do some shopping for my mother and company.

“He keeps kosher,” I remembered as we were buying meat and cheese and milk.

Molly grabbed another shopping cart and followed me with the dairy products. It still didn’t solve the storage problem, until we turned into the next aisle and saw some mini-refrigerators for sale. Only a hundred dollars. I could swing that on my credit card. Who knows, maybe Chester would toss me a couple bucks for it later? I got a guy with a dolly to grab that and take two up front for us cause Molly reminded me, good Jewish boy that I am, that I couldn’t put clean food in a tainted refrige. Chester better pay me back or I was returning these after they left.

We finished our shopping and hit the check out. Everything fit into the Jeep like puzzle pieces and we headed home feeling much better about the universe and our relationship.

“Molly,” I said when we were about halfway home. “Would you please, for the love of God, tell me who the woman was?”

“I don’t actually know,” she replied. “I never saw her before. She came with one of the other guests.”

“All this time, you didn’t know either? You made me think she was a friend of yours, or someone I should know! You made me think. . . ! God, Molly. That’s so not fair.”

“I wanted you to think about your behavior from her point of view.”

“What point of view? She told me what she wanted and I happily complied. I was damn compliant and she loved every minute of it. At the risk of offending you, I was balls deep in the woman and she sure wasn’t complaining.”

“Michael!” I’d shocked her. She got all tight lipped again, scowling at me. “I push too hard sometimes.” She said quietly. “I guess I deserved that.”

“And if she had wanted me to remember her, why didn’t she leave her name? Do you leave notes for people and not sign them?”

“Sometimes. But only people I know well.”

I shrugged, making the turn into her driveway.

“I see what you mean. How could you be expected to know?”

“I’m even thinking, maybe I did know her name? Maybe I shouted it out when we were—busy. Maybe I’m a stupid, inconsiderate schmuck?”

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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Snowed – Part 17

snowed cover image for blogTo his surprise, his mother’s friend, Chester, calls to get directions to his home. He’s planning a road trip with Mike’s mom, which seems ambitious and a little crazy to Mike. He gives Chester directions and warns him that traveling with his mother will be a challenge. Mike tells Chester to pack Xanax. Not for his mother, but for himself.

Chester burst out laughing. So the man has a sense of humor after all.

“You think I’m kidding? I’m dead serious.”

In a way, I kind of was. Ma is the reason I started smoking pot in the eighth grade. She made me crazy. I got to Cheyenne, and after less than a month away from my mother, I quit smoking. Now, I hardly ever take a hit. My brother is practically a prescription drug addict. Much as I hate to say it, it’s true. I think my dad died early to get away from her nagging. Best thing I ever did for myself was leave home. Suddenly, home was coming to me. Much as I wanted to say all this to Ma’s boyfriend, I wasn’t going to. God bless him, let Doctor Kosher figure it out.

“Michael?” Now it was his turn to wonder was I there?

“Yes. Sorry. I had a long night, following a pretty long one the night before. . . .”


“Yeah. . . .”

I let the tone of my voice and the prolonged sigh of contentment speak for me. I didn’t have words to describe just how good I felt.

“Oh, I see. . . .”

He chuckled knowingly, as only another man who’s had a weekend of debauchery can possibly understand. Better not of been with Ma. . . . That’s all I’m sayin’.

“Yeah, I figure a couple more nights like the last two, I ought to be relaxed and psychologically prepared to see my mother.”

There was a hesitant pause. “What is the trouble between you two? Your mother has never said. . . .”

“It’s a long story, Chester. When you visit, you and me, we’ll think of a reason to go out ourselves and I’ll tell you. Not a subject to discuss over the phone—or in front of Ma.”

“No, I suppose not. Well, thank you for the directions. We’ll be leaving early Tuesday and will be there no later than Friday evening, depending on how we break it up. My daughter will be spotting me on driving.”

“Chester, I needed to ask. Are you planning to stay with me? My place is pretty small.”

“I’m not sure what Marjorie has in mind. Personally, I think a man needs his own space. Is there a suitable motel nearby?”

“I’ll be glad to see what’s available. My friends have lived here longer than me, they can give me some advice.”

“Let me give you my numbers. You can call me back with information and I’ll make a reservation.”

“I can take care of that for you, Chester. I got nothin’ to do today. I may not even be working tomorrow. We’re kinda snowed in. We’ll be clear by the end of the week, but bring warm clothing.”

“Oh, good tip. Okay. That would be great.”

He rattled off his home, office and cell numbers. I wrote them down and went to Jesse’s to ask her advice on motels. Normally, I’d have asked Molly, but I wasn’t sure if she was speaking to me yet. When I went in, Molly was sitting there talking to Jesse. She gave me that pinched nose, tight lipped look that every man, bar none, has gotten in his life—and usually for doing what I’d been doing all weekend.

“Another one?” She said disdainfully. “Friday night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Molly, don’t bust the boy’s balls,” Jesse said.

I stifled a laugh, managing to make it sound like a sneeze.

“He’s a red blooded American male. He’s single. He has the right to sow his wild oats. So long as he’s careful where those oats get sown.” She raised an eyebrow, dropping her chin. That was a subtle reminder not to sow them in Deidre’s direction—which I knew already.

“I got that covered, Jess. Don’t worry about me.”

I didn’t think it was necessary to say that Mystery Date and I hadn’t been a bit careful. But hey, at least I’d maybe find out who she was if she turned up pregnant, right? Oh, shit, not the best line of thought. I shoved that aside and asked them about motel recommendations for my guests.

“The young lady won’t be staying with you?” Molly couldn’t drop it.

“I don’t even know her yet, Molly.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before. . . .”

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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A Merry Lone Wolf Christmas

The Lone Wolf book cover

The Lone Wolf book cover

I decided to share a short scene from my newest sci-fi, The Maker book 3 in the Lone Wolf series. The crew of the Flotilla and Hannibal have been gone from known space for nearly five years. In that time, Chairman Emmelia Spenser has missed Captain Ben Drexel, who protected her from Riley and his power hungry moves. It’s Christmas Eve and she misses him more than ever.

Gazing at the clock on the wall of her lavish living room, Emmelia Spenser, Chairman of the Mining Guild, watched the hands creep toward midnight. Drinking a silent toast to absent friends, she tried not to cry.

“Oh, Ben,” she whispered to the air, “Where are you tonight and what are you doing? Are you thinking of me as I think of you?”

She rose, walking to the window of her penthouse apartment, high on top of the Mining Guild Tower. The tropical setting seemed incongruous to the occasion. Instead of snowy slopes, she gazed into the crystal clear ocean. Lost in its depths, she sighed.

Tonight she’d been obligated by her position, to host an expensive party for all the somebodies in the Mining Guild. Emmelia had been the perfect hostess, paying extravagant and insincere compliments to the hideous wife of the head of the Miner’s Consortium. All the while harboring unkind thoughts that the woman looked more like a troll than a lady of wealth and substance.

All the board members were present, their trophy wives in tow. She couldn’t keep track of them any more. They all looked alike: blonde from a bottle, boobs by design, pouty lips, long legs and tiny little brains. They dripped furs, jewels, gold, platinum and other choice tidbits given them by their filthy rich husbands. Usually, there was a new one every other year and they all had names like Buffy or Tippy or Missy.Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000035_00022]

Emmelia hadn’t been alone at her party, of course. There were any number of eligible men willing to escort the most powerful woman in the Mining Guild to a posh soirée. The one tonight, Brett, had was smarter, handsomer, better put together than most—but he wasn’t Ben. But few men could measure up to Benjamin Drexel, the former Marine Captain. He’d stolen her heart nearly four years ago when Wil sent him on assignment to protect her from Riley.

Brett had made the expected advances. Emmelia had repulsed them until she had too much champagne to drown her sorrows, then she gave in. He was several cuts above the average hanger-on, but he had to compete with the memory of Ben.

She had hoped that Ben would be back from his mission by now, or at the very least she would hear from him. But there were no messages and she was still alone.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered hopefully, “I’ll hear from Ben.”

A final sip of champagne and she made her way to bed, where Brett slept, looking for all the world like a child. She wondered how old he really was, twenty-five, twenty-six? Did it matter? He kept the bed warm, didn’t drool and didn’t snore. Slipping quietly back into bed, she curled up next to him, facing the door, crying gently.

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000035_00020]Brett must have sensed her presence, perhaps even heard her crying. He rolled over, putting his arm protectively around her, cuddling up behind her, breath warm on her neck. Tears fell anew, as she remembered how Ben did the same thing.

“Tomorrow,” she thought as she fell asleep, “Tomorrow—”

© 2014 Dellani Oakes

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Snowed – Part 16

snowed cover image for blogFrom famine to feast, Mike can’t believe the action he’s getting. First, Mystery Date, then Deidre’s seduction attempt and now Simone. For a man who hadn’t been with a woman for weeks, he’s suddenly got more than he bargained for. Luckily, Simone isn’t angry with him, for which he is very grateful.

Unlike her predecessor, Simone was there when I woke up. I was happy to express my enthusiasm a few more times before she had to go. I felt bad about not having any food for her, but she didn’t mind. I’d have loved for her to spend the day, but she couldn’t stay. I hope I made it clear that she was welcome to visit anytime she wanted. I think, judging by her enthusiastic vocalizations, that I did.

After a long goodbye, I made myself a pot of coffee and ate a piece of leftover birthday cake. I knew I needed groceries, but after last night, I wasn’t sure I could look Deidre in the face. I’d have to stop at another store and stock up. I’d just gotten paid, so I was feeling pretty flush. It was a good feeling.

I relaxed and bummed around home most of the day, picking up some when I felt like it. If I was going to have company next week, I needed to clean. I hoped my mother intended to stay at a motel, because I didn’t really have room for three people. My place is a cozy two bedroom, with a bath and a half. It’s not equipped to accommodate four adults, unless one of them shared with me. I ain’t sharing with Ma and I sure as hell didn’t want to spend that kind of quality time with Chester. Maybe his daughter wouldn’t mind, but that would be pretty tacky of me, so I put that thought aside.

As I cleaned, I wondered why my mother was coming to visit and why she was bringing the daughter. Ma’s excuse that she needed a good man did not ring true. In fact, much of my mother’s narrative didn’t really hold water. Was this a serious relationship? Did she intend to marry the kosher dentist? Was the daughter coming to meet me or as protection against the dad so he didn’t get fresh? None of this made any sense to me.

You know how sometimes you can get inside a person’s head and understand that makes them tick? What motivates them to do what they do? With my ma, no one can do this. It’s next to impossible to know what the woman is thinking one moment to the next. She’s a puzzler, a conundrum. Just when you think you’ve figured her out, she changes. I was still puzzling it out when my phone rang. Distracted, I picked up.


“Michael? Is this Michael Reuben?” The man’s voice wasn’t familiar.

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“Chester Mayer. I’m a friend of your mother’s.”

“Oh, yeah, the dentist. What can I do for you, Chet?”


“Whatever.” I waited. “Well?”

“Sorry. . . . I need directions on how to find your place in town. I can get to Cheyenne no problem, but I don’t know where to find you.”

I gave him simple, easy to follow directions. My place is pretty straightforward.

“The directions I’m giving, they’ll be a little longer than what you’d get with a GPS. But it’s more direct.”

“That’s fine, son. Not a problem.”

“Look, Chester, let’s get one thing straight right off, okay? I’m not your son. My dad was Walter Reuben and he was a nice Jewish man who died too young. Me, I’m not so nice. I wanna know what’s up, Chester. Why is my mother making this trip? She hates going anywhere.”

“That’s something your mother will have to talk to you about, Michael. She feels this trip is important. And I didn’t mean to presume. It’s merely a term of endearment. Marjorie speaks of you so often, I feel as if I know you.”

“Yeah. Okay then. So long as we understand one another.”

“I figure we’ll break it up into two days about fourteen hours each. . . .”

“You’re gonna be in a car with Ma for fourteen hours? Are you nuts? She’ll wear you down, man. If you’re smart, you’ll break it into three days and pray she sleeps ninety percent of the time. Ma is not a good traveler.”

There was a short pause. I could hear him fidgeting around.

“You’ve made road trips with her?”

“More than I can count and a whole lot more than I care to remember.”

There was a prolonged pause. I thought maybe Chester had lost connection.

“Hello? Chester?”

“I’m here. I’m thinking we should break it into four days, maybe?”

“Four would be better. If you can, pick up some Xanax and use it.”

“On your mother?”

“No, man. That shit’s for you.”

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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Snowed – Part 15

snowed cover image for blogOver dinner, Mike confesses that he didn’t know who Mystery Date was. He tries to recall details, but he can’t even remember her eye color. He knows she had brown hair because he found long strands in his bed. Other than that, he’s clueless.

“What are you thinking about? You got awfully quiet. If I couldn’t hear you eating, I’d think you’d left me all by myself.”

“I was thinking about last night—trying to think of details.”

“You were thinking about how well you performed.” She giggled. “Don’t think I don’t know. In that mental review, did you discover anymore?”

“No, ma’am. Just what I already told you. One thing though. I don’t think she’s someone from the complex and I don’t think that I knew her.”

“You took a perfect stranger to your bed?”

“Yes, Jesse, I think I did.”

“You bad boy!”

“No. I’m naughty, but I’m damn good at it.”

I stayed an hour or so longer at Jesse’s apartment, helping her clean up. We had a cup of decaff and then it was late enough that she wanted to go to bed. I waited on the porch until she locked up, and headed back to my place. There was a car parked next to my Jeep in the driveway. It wasn’t a car I recognized, but there was someone in it. It looked like a woman. But she wasn’t my dark haired mystery woman. This one was blonde. I could see it in the streetlights.

She got out of her car as I walked up to the porch. It was Simone, Deidre’s mother.

“Before you say anything, I can explain,” I said quickly.

I opened the door and held it for her to enter. She stalked past me, radiating anger. I could feel it hit me like waves. I also caught a whiff of her perfume and about keeled over. I’d forgotten the effect she had on me.

“My daughter said she came over here to give you a birthday present.”

“She did. Those mugs on the table. I was going to come over tomorrow and thank you.”

“Is that the only thing she gave you?”

“She kissed me some. Listen, Simone, before you get any angrier, can I tell you what happened? Cause I know you’re not going to believe Deidre.”

“What makes you think I’ll believe you?”

She folded her arms across her chest, flopping down on the couch right about where her daughter had been sitting a few hours ago. I helped her get her coat off, tossed my jacket over the chair and sat next to her.

“Deidre came over here somewhat upset. She had some questions for me.”

Simone raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“She had something she wanted me to do. I didn’t do it.”

“Are you telling me that my teenage daughter wanted to have sex with you? Is that what you’re insinuating, Mike?”

I didn’t want to say, I couldn’t form the words. I nodded, waiting for the explosion. When it didn’t come, I opened my eyes. Simone was shaking her head in wonder.

“That explains so much. My daughter and I have been arguing the better part of the afternoon. What the hell did you tell her about us?”

“Nothing specific. Look, she came over here wanting me to be her first,” I admitted quietly. “I told her no. Not that it wasn’t a tempting offer. . . . Like her mother, she is very beautiful. But she’s a kid.”

“But you did kiss her? You put your hands on her?”

“I’m sorry, Simone. She was all over me and I lost control for a few minutes. But I swear, nothing but the kissing and a little, pointless groping.”

“How is groping ever pointless?” she asked with a grin.

“Cause it was going absolutely nowhere. Your daughter is pretty incredible,” I continued. “But she’s got nothing on her mother.”

“Why, Michael Reuben, are you trying to seduce me?”

“I dunno, Simone Carey. That’ll depend on if you let me.”

“Fuck you, Mike.” But she didn’t mean it in a bad way.

Leaning toward her, I ran my fingers up her arm. “Can you stay?”

She shrugged, moving closer.

“Cause I’d really like you to. That’s if you want to?” My hand moved to her cheek, caressing the her face with my thumb. “Really like you to, a lot.” My lips moved toward hers.

Suddenly, she was in my arms, kissing me passionately. She had the wild, uninhibited nature of her daughter with one distinct advantage. She was an adult and I didn’t have to worry about going to jail for screwing her brains out. Which I proceeded to do—three times.

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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Snowed – Part 14

snowed cover image for blogJesse, his neighbor, has invited him to dinner. Closer to him than his own mother, Mike knows he can tell her anything. She knows he’s had a woman over, even though she’s blind, by sniffing the scent of Deidre’s perfume.

“Well, it was only kissing. She’s almost ten years younger. In fact, I’ve dated her mother.”


“Somewhat. Bit of a schoolgirl crush. Nice kid. If things were different, Jesse, I’d be real tempted.”

“You’re already tempted,” she said in that all knowing tone she gets when she knows she’s right. “But there again, you’re too much of a gentleman.”

“She is a sweet kid. The important word being kid,” I emphasized for my own benefit.

“You need a woman, not a child. I think you were right to tell her no.”

“How do you know I was the one declining?”

“Because your voice if full of regret. Only a couple things put a tone like that in a man’s voice, and the most common is having to tell a woman why he won’t bed her.”

“Miss Jessamine, how did you get to be so damn smart?”

“Years of practice, Grasshopper.” She patted my cheek, sounding like the old priest in Kung Fu. “Now, those coals smell about right. You go on, throw those steaks on for me.”

“Yes, ma’am!” I saluted and she smacked me.

“I know you didn’t just salute me like I’m in the Army.”

“I swear, you know things you shouldn’t be able to, Jesse.”

“Just like I know you’re making a face at me like I give a care. I swear, child, you are one feisty ass boy tonight. You must have had a real good time with that young lady last night.”

“Hella good,” I called as I walked outside with the steaks.

Jesse was right as usual, the coals were perfect. She also told me when she thought the steaks were done just by smelling them from indoors. There again, she was right. I didn’t even bother to cut into them to check.

“We should open a steakhouse,” I told her. “I’d cook and you’d tell me when they were done.”

She had laid out all kinds of side dishes she had prepared. She’s an amazing cook. I don’t know how she does it. I can see perfectly and I can’t do anything as efficiently as she can without her vision.

“So tell me about the young woman last night. What can you remember?”

“Well, she was fairly tall with a great build. Full busted, narrow waist, great a. . . . Um, anyway. . . .”

“She was well put together.”

“Yeah. Very. Long, dark hair. I know that because I found a few in the bed.”

“Anything else? Her voice—was it deep, high? Did she have an accent?”

“Her voice was about medium. Not too low, not too high. I don’t remember her saying much to me, so I don’t know about an accent. Off hand, I’d say no.”

“I suppose remembering eye color would be asking too much.”

I laughed, nodding since I had just taken a bite.

“I can’t see you nod, Michael.”

“Yes you can. All these years, you’ve been faking,” I said with my mouth full.

“Would that were true. I could see what a handsome boy you are.” She patted my cheek. “You lack confidence, my child. You are such a wonder, yet you can’t settle down to anything. It’s often like that with exceptional people. Until you find your niche, you’re going to have that problem.”

“What do you think my niche is, Jesse?”

“That I don’t know. There are so many possible ways to go.”

“Hmm. . . Perhaps my niche is preparing delicious steaks for public consumption. I don’t know what you marinated these in, but they’re fantastic.”

“Why thank you. I’ll show you next time.”

“Thanks. I know. My niche is making love to mysterious, beautiful women until they scream my name.”

“Did she do that?”

I chuckled seductively. “Ohh, yeah. More than once.”

“You are coming perilously close to telling me details, Michael.”

“You keep asking me, Jessamine.”

“And you’re so proud of yourself, you can’t stand it.”

I laughed, not answering that one. She was right, I was proud of myself. I did better last night than I had in years. Not since Mrs. Travers those six glorious months we spent together. I had the stamina of an ox back then. What I lacked in control, I made up for in frequency. Last night was a combination of the two and I was pleased as hell.

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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Snowed – Part 13

snowed cover image for blogMike would dearly love to take what Deidre has to give, but he considers it too dishonorable. His reasons are many and some of them are bound to make Deirdre angry with him for a very long time.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, D.”

She shoved herself up, glaring at me. “What’s wrong with you? You aren’t gay, are you?”

“You seriously aren’t asking that, are you?” I stared at my pants and the places my hands had ended up and started to laugh.

Deidre followed the progress of my eyes, noticing that my baggy jeans didn’t conceal the fact that I was hot for her. My hands were on her breasts and her lipgloss was all over my face.

“Do I really need to answer that question?”

“Then why are you telling me no?”

“Ask your mom,” I said softly.

“My mom? What’s Mom got to do with. . . . Oh, my God!” She jumped off me like a bolt of lightning had hit her ass. “You didn’t just tell me that! Oh, God!” She wiped her hands on her jeans like they were filthy. “My mom? Michael!” The tone in her voice was accusatory. She was hurt and furious.

“I didn’t know she was your mom. She’s a very pretty, interesting woman, Deidre. You’re a lot like her. You’re both smart and funny and. . . .” I could see she wasn’t reacting to the news well, but at least it got me off the hook.

“I need to go now.” She gathered up the thermos, leaving the covered ceramic mugs on the table. “The mugs are a gift from Mom and me,” she said quietly. “Now I know why she was so anxious to send you something. Oh, my God!”

“Please, don’t get mad at your mother. She’s lonely.”

“I know, Mike. But oh, my God! She’s almost forty!”

“I’m almost thirty. How is my attraction to her any different from your attraction to me?”

“Because you’re a guy. The guy is supposed to be older.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, baby. Not necessarily. Tell her I said thank you for the mugs and the hot chocolate.”

“That’s weird, Mike. That’s really weird.”

“Does this mean we can’t be friends? I want to be your friend, Deidre.”

She kissed me regretfully, tenderly on the lips, taking the empty thermos with her. “We could have had some fun though, huh?”

“Yeah. You take care, baby. I’m here whenever you want to talk.”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and left with a few backward glances. I stood on the porch, freezing my ass off, waving as she walked down the street toward her mother’s business. I suppose I could have walked her back, but I didn’t really want to be a party to any confrontation she might have with her mother. I hoped there were no repercussions, cause I didn’t want her mom mad at me. We had some fun, the sex was great, but casual. Neither of us really wanted it to go further. It was an exploration, of sorts, wondering if we could build on the sex. As it was, we were friends with benefits. Nothing more.

A few minutes later, Jesse called me. “Just about dinner time, Mike. Come on over. I got us some sparkling grape juice on ice and the steaks are ready for your magic touch.”

“I’ll be right there!”

I dog trotted over with my down filled jacket. The temperature was dropping fast and I was going to be outside to grill. I didn’t really know why Jesse wanted steaks when it was, literally, 60 below, but what the hell? She bought us T-bones, I’m not going to complain about a little cold.

I got the grill set up and got it out of the wind as much as possible. With that stiff breeze, the coals wouldn’t take long to burn down, so I didn’t wander far. Jesse had sparkling grape juice but had a beer set on the counter for me.

“Did you have a nice chat with the young lady?”

“How did you know I had a young lady over?”

She tapped her nose. “She’s got a very nice perfume. It’s all over you. Was she all over you?”

“Now, Jesse, you know I won’t kiss and tell.”

“Sure you would! Long as it’s just kissing. Anything else, you’re too much of a gentleman to tell and old lady like me.” She smiled, patting my hand.

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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Snowed – Part 12

snowed cover image for blogMike’s conversation with Deidre takes a turn for the worse when she asks him to make love to her for the first time. He tells her he doesn’t deserve it. She should give that gift to a better man than he.

“You’re not a loser, Mike. You think you are, but you’re the kindest, most wonderful man I know. Maybe one day you’ll realize how special you are and that you deserve all kinds of good things from your life.”

“Baby, if that day comes, then I’d gladly take what you want to give me. In the meantime, anytime you need a friend, I’m here. I’ve had a better time with you than most women my age.”

“You like older women,” she commented, hitting close to the mark.

“Yeah, well. . . . I’ve had more experience with older women.”

“What was your first time like?”

I laughed loudly, rather embarrassed. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

“Why, cause I’m a kid?”

“No, cause you’re a woman. Most females do not react well to the tale. Short version, a divorced older woman seduced me when I was seventeen.”


“Yeah. It lasted about six glorious, orgasmic months. Then she found a man her age and remarried. She divorced him a few years later, but I was too old for her then. She found another boy toy, then moved on to husband number three.”

“You didn’t care?”

I shrugged. “It was great while it lasted, but it wasn’t meant to go on forever. She had a kid with hubby number two. I always kind of figured he was mine.”

“And she never said?”

I shook my head. “What could I have done? I was seventeen, still in school. She was—hell, she was the age I am now!” I found that really humorous for some reason. “Ironic, huh? The kid is growing up with a rich dad and a mother who dotes on him. He plays soccer and is smart as a whip. I still hear from her at Christmas,” I confided.

“Do you think she regrets your affair?”

“Do you think she’d write me every Christmas if she did?”

“I think she regrets cutting it off,” she murmured. “I would. But she had to do what was right for all of you. Tying you down with that kind of responsibility wouldn’t have been fair to any of you.”

“You’re very perceptive.” I was, frankly, stunned.

“I just know how I’d feel. I could never stop loving a guy like you.”

Her lips on mine made it hard for me to think friendly, big brotherly type thoughts. I did my best to remind myself that she was still a girl, not a mature woman. She felt like a woman, she smelled like a woman. She tasted like vanilla lipgloss and hot chocolate, an irresistible combination for me. So why was I still resisting? Because that tiny voice in the back of my mind reminded me that not only had I flirted with her divorced mother, we’d gone out a few times and ended up on this same couch doing something damn similar to what I was now doing with her daughter. Only it had gotten to the hot, sweaty, heart pounding conclusion.

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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