“Older, like her Dad. Maybe fifty. Maybe frumpy with a big butt and wide hips. I don’t know. But not you. Hell, you don’t look that much older than me.”
Hannah refilled their glasses and they drank.
“How old do you think I am, Max?”
“Hard to say. Thirty-two or thirty-three.”
“I’ll be thirty-seven in three months. What do you think about that?”
Max drained his half-filled glass.
“I think you look younger. I think you look fabulous,” he said, and took a deep breath. “And I think that if I had met you first, I, uh, I don’t know…”
“What?”
“I think that I might be having this same conversation with Ella right about now.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. Hannah looked down at her hands, then back at Max’s face.
He leaned his head to kiss her but she stiffened, so he aborted the effort. What was he doing? Hannah sat still with a blank, confused look on her face. Max gripped his hand around hers but her hand stayed still. He’d gone too far, he could tell. On the eve of his wedding.
“I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said with a rasp, squeezing her hand before he let go. “I’ve said too much. I better go.” He rose from the sofa, and started toward the door. “Thanks for the drinks and a nice evening. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry.”
She sat trancelike, shaking her head. He let himself out.
“No!” she called, as the door latched shut.
She rose and hurried to the door and reopened it, flipping on the porch light at the same time. Max was in the driveway, almost to his car.
“Max, no!” Hannah called. “Please come back.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, keys in hand.
“Yes. Don’t go.”
She held the door open as he walked back up to the house. He bounded up onto the porch and she went inside and he followed. She flipped off the light and locked the door. He’s not going anywhere tonight, she thought.
“Thank you for staying,” she said, and squeezed his hand in delayed reciprocation. “I wouldn’t want you to leave like that.”
“I’m sorry. I talk too much sometimes, and…”
“Sssh,” she said, putting her finger to his lips. “It’s okay.”
For a frozen moment they were silent. Their brains clicked off and their hearts took over.
Their lips met and parted, mouths welcoming tongues, and they were instantly kissing with unbridled passion. They wrapped their arms around each other and pulled tight, pressing the contours of their bodies together. Hannah’s fingers roamed Max’s lower back and the flesh of his neck. He felt the cushioned firmness of her breasts pressing against him, and she didn’t miss his growing erection abutting her abdomen.
The lights stayed on, the music played on and the drinks were left on the table. They made their way down the hall and into Hannah’s bedroom, where they started tearing at each others’ clothing. Piece by piece it all came off, shoes, socks, tops, bottoms, underwear, until they were down to the watch on his wrist and the rings on her fingers. Then they were horizontal on the bed. Max’s lips left her mouth and covered her with kisses on her neck and her shoulders and her breasts, and she squealed with delight when he sucked a hard, plump nipple into his mouth.