18. Insecure

Within a view days I will see my daughter again. She's been with her father and his family for a while, because she finished high school. And he and his band will tour in Europe.  So she'll come back with him and visit her poor lonely mom. Next semester, when summer ends, she will go to University. She chose to study in the States. Smart girl. But I will miss her dreadfully. As I do now.
Her father -my lover- he and I never made promises, but I'm pretty sure I will see him this summer. Only, don't know where, don't know when. I can never get used to that, but the benefits for this insecurity are so high. It is a prize I am willing to pay. The thought of seeing him again makes me glow with expectation.

I'm so nervous.  I've got to stay busy or I'll explode. The roof on a shed in my garden is leaking. So I'm thinking I might fix it. I bought some tar, I bought some bitumen roof covering and I borrowed a burner. I can do this. I'm sure I can.

While I put the ladder against the shed and am about the climb it -roll of material under one arm- I hear a voice behind me.

"Hey love, whatcha  doing?"

I drop everything, turn around and there he is.

That smile on his face, that stupid American baseball hat, t-shirt full of memento I know nothing about, shorts showing his cute skinny legs and above all his eyes -his beautiful ocean blue eyes now with crowsfeet, fanning out like beams of the sun. The prove of his happy live. I yell his name and run towards him. Jump in his arms. He roars with laughter, spins me around, holds me so tight I almost choke. Scanning his face I notice some new grey in his short cropped beard, his hair getting longer, his healthy tan, the precious mole under his left eye -but above all, that he has not changed one bit. Hungry I stare at his mouth, into his eyes, quizzical. Waiting. He puts me down. With a slap on my butt and a slight chuckle. Picks up the roof material and asks what I was about to do so he can fix it for me, because what use is a man around anyway. He winks.
And so, disappointed, I climb the ladder with him following me. Show him what is to be done, get down and leave him to it. Men, I sigh. Oh well. I'm getting older, obviously the physical attraction is waning.

I get into my garden house, put on some music -Jeff Buckley- take a quick shower and slip into a comfortable cotton summer dress, because I was feeling dirty and insecure. Then I make tea and sandwiches.

Suddenly a rumbling sound, a cry and a bang. I hurry outside to see him lying on the ground holding his knee with a painful grimace.

"What the hell happened! Are you all right!" I scream.

But he already tries to stand. Curses.

"Fucking leaves! That fucking roof is fucking slippery as fuck. Fuck!" He yells, trying to kick something, limping on one leg.

"Jesus, you could have broken something. Let me have a look. Come with me."

Leaning on me he hops inside. Sitting on a kitchen chair, he lets me feel his knee. It seems okay. Bruised, yes, but nothing serious, I think. I get some ice. Wrap it in a cloth and put it on his knee.

Then I feel a hand on my head. Fingers in my hair. Clawing.

"Come here," he says. Pulling me towards him.

Presses his lips on my mouth. Soft kiss. Looks me in the eyes.

"Missed you, you stubborn girl. Why do I always have to come to you?"

"It's easier that way."

"Why?"

"Your life is more complicated than mine. You know that."

He sighs. Tries to say something.

"How's Apple?" I interrupt.

"She is great! What a job you did there, raising our daughter. The girls and my wife love her so much. She is so easy with them. She's just amazing. I'm so proud."

He kisses me again. Friendly, light kiss, intimate yet distant.

"How long will you stay?" I ask the forbidden question. The one that hurts.

"A day or two, three. Rehearsal, two shows. Then off again."

I straighten. Get the tea. The sandwiches.

"What's that face?" He says. Brows arched.

"Nothing," I pout, turn to the counter, busy with nothing.

Silently he must have gotten up. Lifts my hair and brushes my neck with his beard.

"Don't be like that," he whispers. Nibbling my ear with his lips.

I shiver, but do not respond.

He pulls away my dress, leaving my shoulder bare. His tongue slides over my skin, one arm around my waist. Pressing me against him. With his other arm he leans against the counter.

Still I do not react. Gawky I arrange the sandwiches on a plate. I squeak when he suddenly bites my flesh.

"Goddammit, woman!" he growls, twisting me around.

He grabs my chin, forces a kiss on my mouth. Not so lightly now, but rough, demanding. Bending me against the counter. Touching me. I moan but push him of me. I take a step away, lean against the wall. Panting. With a wild, serious look on his face he approaches. Then takes hold of me again. We struggle a bit. Grabbing clothes. Mouths wide open we kiss, tongues entwining. His hands everywhere, stroking over my body, drops to his knees. A curse. His mouth in my crotch, breathing hot warm air through the fabric, biting my mount. My legs can not hold me. I lean on his shoulders. He lifts me. Carries me towards the kitchen table. Mouth still on my sex. Arms and hands around my ass. Lays me down on the table, shoves the things on there with one swipe of. He kisses and bites me trough my panties. My belly. Kneading my breasts and plundering my mouth. He grabs my hand, that is cramped on his strong arm, and pushes it against my vulva. Moves it as if I touch myself. Has I start breathing harder so does he. His hand stimulating me with through my own hand. Rubbing. With his other hand he unbuttons his shorts. I help him take them down.

He takes his hard rod and pulls my panties to one side. Then he teases me by holding the top against me, I feel the blood pulsing, but nothing more. He knows that drives me crazy. I meow. Bite his bottom lip. Pleading. I'm so ready for him. But nothing. He kisses my forehead, gets of the table and puts his pants back on. Leaving me bewildered.

"I thought it time to finally get to know each other a bit first."