While We have This Moment Ch. 01

"What's that?" Macy asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I said, 'I hope so,'" I lied.

*******

My picnic lunch with Jared at the park was pleasant. It was the first time I had seen him "dressed down," and it looked almost comical. It was like he was trying to be casual, like he had Googled "what to wear to a picnic," and he seemed about as comfortable in jeans as I do in high heels. But after a while he relaxed. Our conversation was tame, the weather was cooperative, and I felt myself becoming more at ease. During one prolonged silence, as we both stared across a small lake, I wondered if I could really see myself spending the rest of my life with Jared. I didn't have an answer.

But once my imagination got going, I pictured us picnicking together in our old age, I imagined us cleaning up after kids in our house, I fantasized about stolen romantic moments by a fireplace at night. And then I pictured us kissing... and making out on a couch in front of the fire... and pressing against each other... and his hands under my shirt... and a soft fur blanket covering our naked bodies as we wrestled together...

"Denise? Denise, you okay?" Jared was looking over at me with a curious expression. Was it my imagination or had it gotten warmer out? "Your eyes seemed intense," he said, almost as a question.

I realized I was breathing a little faster than normal. I turned to face Jared; we were inches apart, our shoulders nearly touching.

Dammit! I thought as I leaned in and started kissing him. Jared seemed stunned but then quickly returned my fervor. I was moving forward, forcing him to lean back, then to lie down. I kissed him hungrily, recklessly, my hands roughly touching his chest and shoulders. Oh, God it felt good to do that! To press my lips against his, to feel the tip of his tongue begin to explore my mouth. I felt alive. I was about to roll onto my back and pull him on top of me, just for a minute... or a few minutes.

A distant laugh - the laugh of a child - brought me back to my senses. We were still in the middle of a park, in plain sight of passers-by. I pulled myself off of him and sat up. I chuckled awkwardly and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. "Sorry about that!" I said with an embarrassed smile.

"No apology needed," Jared assured me as he sat up. "I just wish I knew what inspired that so I can make it happen again!"

I was already standing up and gathering our trash. Jared helped put the remaining food back in the bag. Once we had cleaned up, we set off on a short stroll around the lake. We talked about jobs and families, and jokes, and movies and everything except what I couldn't stop thinking about. At some point during our walk, Jared's fingers gently grazed my palm, pulling my hand into his soft grip. About a half-hour later, we were back at the parking lot, and the only external indication that anything had changed was that our good-bye kiss was no longer chastely placed on the cheek but instead consisted of a gentle, hesitant touching of our lips.

We parted wordlessly, waving politely as we entered our respective cars and drove our separate ways.

The dam hadn't yet burst, but the cracks were showing.

*******

I went home and showered. I don't know why I showered, but I just felt like I needed to. It was still spring and the weather wasn't warm enough to have me sweating. We hadn't done anything at the park that got me dirty. But I felt dirty. I felt like I wanted to wash away something. Did I feel guilty about kissing Jared?

What reason did I have to feel guilty about that? It felt good, and Jared was my... Jared was a guy I was seeing.

Maybe you like the idea of Jared more than you like Jared, I could hear Macy reminding me.

Easy for her to say, I snidely thought. She has Ernst.

The imaginary Macy in my head responded, But Ernst wasn't my first experience with marriage and "love." I learned the hard way how painful it is to sell yourself short.

Oh, shut up, I guiltily shot back. I placed my hands against the shower wall and hung my head. The water flowed down my plain brown hair and splashed onto the floor. I watched small streams trickle across my breasts and drip steadily towards the tile below. Yes, I liked the idea of someone touching my body again. I liked the idea of being desired. I liked the idea of another's skin touching my own.

I sighed, unintentionally splashing water against my bangs and back onto my face. Dammit, I did feel guilty. I had kissed Jared out of a sense of insecurity and fear rather than out of any real affection for him. It was lust, yes, but also desperation. And impatience. But you can't put the toothpaste back in the tube, and now Jared and I had crossed a line. I didn't want to think about the implications of that just yet. So I turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and started thinking ahead to meeting with Aaron and the kids.

*******

I heard laughter from inside the house before I even knocked on the door. I paused, fist raised and ready to alert them to my presence on the front step. But then I lowered my arm and leaned in, listening. I couldn't make out any words, but I could get a sense of the atmosphere inside. I heard Aaron's deep voice. I heard two voices laughing in response. I heard a happy shout from Aaron. I heard the sound of something crashing to the floor, followed by more laughter.

It reminded me of home and childhood, of days of innocence and peace. Before my brother discovered drugs, before my dad turned pale and weary with worry, before my mom nervously jumped every time the phone rang. We once had a home like this. It felt like peace and serenity and safety and warmth. A brief swell of longing surged in my chest, wanting to be a part of whatever was happening on the other side of that door. And I pictured Aaron and felt admiration for his faithfulness to his children.

But then I started to feel cold, as the spring evening couldn't conceal the chilly fingers that still crept out from winter just past. Longing more for warmth more physical than metaphorical, I raised my fist and knocked loudly.

An indecipherable shout of exclamation rang out from one of the kids, followed by the thumping of feet running towards the door. Four hands competed to pull the door open first and two messy grins greeted me, eyes beaming.

"We were making brownies!" Derek proudly announced.

"Until my brother dropped the bowl," Maya tattled.

"You pushed me!" he accused.

"No I didn't," Maya shot back. "Besides, Dad said we can just scoop it back into the bowl and not tell anyone."

Just then, Aaron hollered from the kitchen, "Invite her inside, kids! Don't be rude!"

The two kids wordlessly backed up, making room for me to pass by them and lead the way down the hall. Aaron was just putting brownies in the oven when I walked up beside him.

"Was the floor at least relatively clean?" I asked with feigned dismay.

"I plead the fifth," he answered, sighing as he straightened up and dusted his hands on the frilly apron he wore. Removing the apron, he tossed it onto the back of a chair and waved his hands towards some couches in the next room. "Please," he invited.

A minute after I sat down, Aaron entered the room with a tray holding everything we needed for hot tea. The kids were miraculously quiet in their rooms as Aaron asked me a series of questions, mostly simple things about my friends, my hobbies, my future plans, and my job. After perhaps a half hour, Maya jogged into the room. Aaron looked lovingly at her and asked, "Maya, do you have any questions for... uh... for Miss..."

"Just Denise is fine," I said, when I realized he wasn't sure how the kids should address me.

"Do you have any questions for Just Denise?" he asked, looking sideways at me and smirking. Typical Dad joke. Kind of a Dad bod, too, I noticed. Maybe a little more toned up top.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" she almost whispered, as if she could somehow exclude her dad from the conversation.

"Well..." I paused. "Kinda. I'm seeing someone. But he's not, like, my boyfriend yet."

"You totally do!" she whispered excitedly. "What's he like? Is he cute? Will you bring him here so we can meet him?"

"Aren't you a bit young to be thinking about boyfriends?" I asked skeptically, before realizing it would only provoke her to act older.

Maya went on as if I hadn't said anything. "Has he given you true love's kiss?"

I groaned inwardly. "Noooo," I said carefully, trying to find the right leverage to steer the conversation a different direction. "But like I said, he's not my boyfriend... yet."

"My mommy says that true love's kiss is the best thing ever and that it makes your heart go all fluttery and your knees go weak and then you just can't control yourself."

I could almost hear Aaron wincing. I didn't dare turn to look his way. "Well maybe your mom..."

"She says she feels it at least once or twice a year."

"Oh my," I gasped, at a loss.

"OK, enough questions," Aaron stated. "Go run into Daddy's office and get the brown folder that's sitting on my desk."

"But I..."

"Go!" he stated firmly. The young girl gave an exaggerated sigh and shuffled off, returning shortly after, folder in hand. Aaron passed me a small stack of paperwork, more than I expected to need to fill out, but enough to show me that he was very serious and responsible when considering putting someone in charge of his kids.

"You've done this before?" I asked, indicating the legal and tax documents he had prepared for me.

"Not for a babysitter... nanny... whatever," he answered. "I have a land development business," he explained. "And sometimes, for some projects, I employ some help. I have to be my own HR guy."

I nodded in understanding and continued filling in blanks on pages. When I had finished filling out the last page, Aaron put everything back in the folder and said, "Well, that's about it. Is it OK to start on Monday?"

"Yeah... yeah, Monday's fine. I've got the schedule written down." I said, patting the little yellow notepad that I took with me almost everywhere. We both stood up and I took a second to orient myself to the room. Which way was the door? Aaron sensed my confusion and indicated which way to go.

"And I'm sorry about... Maya," he said, a little awkwardly. "You're welcome to bring your, uh... your friend over sometime. I trust your judgment. Just don't... in front of the kids... you know..."

I stopped for a second to try to understand what he was saying. "Oh!" I gasped. "Oh no no no no. Don't worry about that. Not an issue."

I suddenly felt a little warm and in a hurry to leave. Fortunately, we were at the door. With no further conversation, I stepped outside, pulled out my car keys and said, "See you Monday!"

*******

Two weeks later...

I didn't know at first whether to curse my phone or thank it when the sharp chirping of a new message interrupted us. Jared was on top of me, one elbow planted on the armrest of my couch, propping his body up enough to keep from crushing me, but not enough to keep me from feeling the obvious bulge pressing through his slacks and against my skirt.

It had started as a kiss goodnight at the door. It continued past the door and into the living room. It persisted as jackets were doffed and carelessly tossed, and it paused only when the backs of my knees buckled upon bumping the couch. A controlled fall backwards resulted in my current position: one foot on the floor, the other leg wantonly stretched out. Jared's lean, solid frame rested not too heavily on top of me, his hands wandering cautiously up and down my sides. Our breaths hissed through noses that parried with each other as our faces fought to find the perfect angle of approach. His hips pressed down against me, not in any regular, persistent rhythm to suggest thrusting, but in a slow, desperate push that signaled a craving for greater contact. A craving I desperately shared. Long-dormant memories of touch and pressure and fullness awoke and drove my hips slowly up against him. Brief flashes of panic fought for my attention, and my libido fought equally hard to quell the noise of protest.

Until my phone, left in my jacket pocket somewhere on the floor, redirected my thoughts.

Jared sighed loudly when I pushed lightly against him, indicating my intention to get up.

"I was serious when I said I wanted tonight to end at the door," I said, straightening my skirt as my feet found the floor again.

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't doubt it. But then..."

I knew I didn't have any reason to blame him. I had pulled him in just as insistently as he had pushed forward to enter. If I was going to be angry, it should be at myself. So I stifled a bitter comment before it could be spoken. "It's alright," I said, as I picked up my phone, grabbing his jacket while I was reaching down. "Our bodies don't always get the messages our intentions send out."

Jared smiled and laughed softly. Working in the publishing industry, he had an appreciation for a well-turned phrase. He put his coat on in a single, smooth motion and headed slowly towards the door.

The text was from Aaron. Thanks for doing such a great job with the kids this week. The math tutoring was really above and beyond. Maya is already feeling more confident. Your pay should have hit your account today. Let me know if there were any problems.

I was smiling to myself and was starting to check my bank account when Jared cleared his throat. He was at the door and I was being rude.

"Sorry!" I said, tossing my phone to the couch. "A work thing," I tried to explain, feeling guilty for so quickly ignoring the guy I had just been making out with.

"It's OK," he assured me. "The bane of our age: never being allowed to be in the moment."

"Or is that we just never allow it of ourselves?" I countered.

"Touché," he smiled, then stepped through the door as I opened it. Then after a sudden peck on my cheek, he added, "See you next Saturday," and headed down the sidewalk.

"Dammit!" I whispered after the door was closed. Last week I had been so good, keeping our conversations focused and our physical contact minimal. But then, in a moment of lapsed self-control...

It had been two weeks since I had started my nannying job, and things were going well. The only downside was that it further limited the time I had available for Jared. In one sense, that was good because I felt my body driving me faster than my heart was ready to go. But it also meant that the process of getting to know him was moving slower, not giving the relationship a chance to catch up with my lust.

As I slipped on sweatpants and a t-shirt to prepare for bed, I realized I was still eager to continue what Jared and I had started. I could smell my own arousal as I tossed my panties onto the dirty laundry pile. For the sake of convenience, I didn't replace them with a clean pair but instead determined to enjoy the feel of the soft sweatpants material on my skin that night.

Once ready for bed and settling under the covers, I slid down until my head was comfortably situated on a pile of pillows. My hand slipped past the drawstring around my waist and my fingers sought the sensitive areas that were still pleading for attention. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what might have happened if I had let things continue. I pictured rough hands slipping under my shirt, fighting hard to restrain his lust. He wants to be rough but knows he should be gentle. He's strong but under control... barely.

I untuck his shirt and rub my hands on his firm abs. His hips are more insistent, beginning to mimic the motion we feel irresistibly driven towards. We both know where this is heading, but we both wonder if we will actually get there tonight. I unbuckle his belt and start to push his pants down. He pulls his legs out of his pants (perfectly smoothly, of course, with no need to adjust our position) and growls as his mouth attaches to my neck. He sucks and nibbles and nips my skin, slowly unbuttoning my shirt while I am distracted.

And then my imagination got impatient and I pictured us fully naked, on my bed. I arch my back as his firmness begins to probe my depths. He seems to have as many hands as he needs to touch me all over. His shoulders are broad, his chest covered in hair. My legs wrap around his thighs and feel the muscles taught with effort. His thrusting is agonizingly slow. My face is clenched as I strain towards release. He is... he is not Jared. I just can't picture myself doing that with Jared. Jared has a handsome, smooth babyface and a lean, healthy body. In my fantasy I am being ravished by a thicker man, one whose jaw is scratchy despite his efforts to shave it regularly. He is more like Tim, but not quite. He is older and experienced and becoming frantic as he drives into me.

I feel my release coming. I feel... I feel... I know I'm cumming... It's Aaron's face. His hollow gray eyes looking deep into me, pushing aside his sadness while we unite our bodies. The hints of silver hair around his ears, the power in his thrusts... I feel it coming... My fingers are pressing in, my palm flattened against my clit. I'm almost there. I'm holding back, letting it build... rubbing faster. One hand on my breast, my nipples firm, my brow beginning to sweat. I clench my thighs... just another second... he's pounding me, using me...

Thank God I live alone. I shouted a senseless string of noises. My legs stretched out and my toes curled. I almost felt a cramp in my foot as everything below my waist shook. My hands stopped rubbing and simply pressed and released, pressed and released. My elbows drew in against my ribs, perhaps trying to mimic the sensation of being held in that most vulnerable of moments. My shouts subsided, replaced with moans, then mere whimpers, then deep breaths... then a sigh. That was a good one. I readjusted my blankets and debated going to wash up. But the comfort of my bed won the debate, and I closed my eyes.

No, it's not weird to think of Aaron in that way. Heck, over the years I've imagined almost every decently attractive male friend or acquaintance in my nighttime fantasies at least once.

It doesn't mean anything. I'm sure it doesn't.

*******