Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

Painting her curls and pressing my tip against her clit.

Rosie’s body twitches, but she doesn’t push me away.

I drag my hand up and down my cock one last time, then I sit back and take in the woman beneath me.

Rosie is a mess.

Cum all over. Her own pleasure coating her thighs. Makeup smeared.

And a smile on her face.

She looks like mine.

SIXTY-ONE

ROSALYN

The mattress jostles as Nathan collapses onto his side next to me.

“Holy fuck.” He’s panting as hard as I am.

His eyes look glazed. His body is gleaming with a sheen of sweat. His hair is sticking out in every direction.

He looks like perfection.

We lie next to each other for a long moment, catching our breath.

I can’t believe we just had sex.

I can’t believe I broke my dry spell with famous football player Nate Waller.

I roll my head to the side to take him in again.

I can’t believe my best friend from twenty-five years ago grew up to be a famous football player. Who isbuiltand knows how to use it.

Another smile pulls across my lips.

He really is something.

A breeze from the ceiling fan overhead ghosts over my skin, making me shiver.

The chilled air has felt good until just this moment. And now, as my body cools, I’m becoming more and more aware of the stickiness. Everywhere.

Nathan notices my reaction to the cold and pushes up onto his elbow.

And good lord, there’s a reason they put athletes on magazine covers. Nathan, who has been retired for a couple of years, is still so goddamn muscular.

I can’t pull my eyes away from his biceps.

His arm moves, and he reaches out to trail a finger across my stomach. He drags a line of stickiness with his fingertip, and I shiver again.

“Come on,” Nathan grunts as he sits up.

I stare at his back muscles while I drape an arm over my bare breasts. “Come where?”

Nathan looks back over his shoulder at me with a smirk.

I roll my eyes. “Oh my god, you’re still twelve.”