A Wifey for the Bad Boy(149)

“Please, please! Pleasepleaseplease!” she cried out, her pussy fluttering around his throbbing dick. She was shoving him relentlessly toward the edge, her body reacting to his, and his to her in waves of need.

“Please! Keith!”

“Here.” He managed that one word as lightning ran through his body, centering at his balls, which tightened up against his body, thick jets of cum erupting from him and pouring into her.

“Shit,” he muttered, unable to find the words to say what he was thinking and feeling. There was so much in this moment, as they came down from their joint climaxes slow and easy. Jan’s eyes fluttered open and he rolled off, turning onto his side and propping his head arm up, so that he could gaze down at her.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

“I am?’ she asked, flushing.

“You are. That was…” How could he explain what he was feeling now, and just how good the sex was.

“For me too,” she told him quietly. She turned to face him, running a hand over his cheek.

“I don’t even know what it all means. This is so expansive.”

“That’s a good word,” he agreed, nodding slowly. “Expansive. My feelings for you. Our connection. Us.”

“Is there an us? I don’t want to sound presumptuous.”

“There’s an us, Jan. There’s most definitely an us.” He sighed in satisfaction and happiness. This moment was simply perfect.

Jan gave him a sleepy smile, her head dropping to the pillow. “I know I need to go home but…” She shrugged. “I think I want to stay here for a while.”

“What about all night? I can run you home so you can change and then drop you off at work.”

“Mmm, that sounds like a plan,” she told him, snuggling in close. Jan kissed his chest tenderly. “Let’s sleep together, Keith. I want nothing more.

“Me either.”



Jan awoke slowly, stretching, the sun brushing along her face and on Keith’s naked shoulder. Keith!

It all came back to her. She’d been with Keith, her father’s best friend. A man who had become everything to her. Jan was falling in love with him; maybe a little part of her had a long, long time ago, and gradually picked up steam as he’d related to her and Brody at the hospital, and then last night.

Last night had been amazing.

Keith was…she was right—so was he—what they had was expansive. She’d always cared for him, had always been attracted to him. But this was a new layer to them; as equals rather than anything else.

It was a hard concept to rationalize and yet, he was absolutely perfect for her, perfect for any woman, and yet he’d chosen her. Jan’s insecurities rose up and she worried, she genuinely feared, that she wasn’t his type. He was a doctor and her dad’s age, not a younger man or a man, frankly, not as attractive. Keith was the whole package and Jan wasn’t probably his typical relationship.

If he even dated often. She had a feeling he didn’t. He’d taken Miranda’s death so very hard; Jan remembered both Mom and Dad being seriously worried about Keith after his wife died after a drunk driver hit her. It was an awful loss, piled atop the loss of their child, and Keith had seemed so beaten down by fate and circumstances, for a long time.

There had been a point in time where her parents had essentially moved him in, since everything in the house had represented memories, and while Keith had seemed to heal, she’d never seen any sign that he’d been dating very much. And that was kind of nice, in the grand scheme of things.

He could have been a serial dater and her parents had never known, but Jan suspected that wasn’t the case. There was something about the way he acted and reacted, both in and out of bed, that hinted that he was single and didn’t bring women home often. She felt fairly confident, insecurity and all, that she was unique, rather than one in a steady stream.

He was very cute in sleep, the worry lines on his face smoothing out and making him seem much younger than his years. He was an incredibly handsome man, now and always, and there was no way he looked anywhere near fifty. Forty if he was lucky. He had those handsome looks, movie star but understated and rugged, more Harrison Ford than Justin Bieber. And he was ripped; those abs were incredible.

She was…not ripped. If he were a food, he’d be a lean chicken breast, seasoned perfectly. And if she were a food, she’d be a cupcake. Fluffy, and sweet and not hard, fast, or healthy. Jan tried to quiet her mind, her insecurities, her self-deprecating ways. He had asked her to come to his home and then into his bed with an open heart—and open eyes, too. He wanted her. That much was clear.