I couldn't stand the distance between us anymore. Him on one end of the couch, me on the other. The playful "bantering" between the two of us when we both knew exactly what we were doing—inordinately flirting with one other. It was too much. My blood pressure was skyrocketing and for once it wasn't because I was stressin' over something. This time it was the intense undeniable attraction I had to my ex-husband.

How rare it was that I ever had the house to myself, it just so happened that tonight... I did. Barbra Jean had taken all the kids to the zoo and I wasn't expecting them to be back for hours. I'd jokingly told Jake and Van to confuse her with where they'd parked, now I honestly hoped to God they would. Brock had gotten lost there before, wandering around Gorilla after a couple beers. The place was huge. Hopefully the same thing would happen to the gang and they'd be completely "lost" for the rest of the afternoon.

I wasn't exactly listening to him and his story as much as I was trying to keep myself from jumping his bones or fleeing the scene entirely. I knew exactly what I was feeling. This wasn't some cheesy romance fiction novel where character A doesn't know she's fallen for character B until he touches her hand or looks into her deep blue eyes. This was simple. I still had unnaturally strong feelings for a man who'd cheated on me and he still had obvious feelings for the woman he cheated on. I wanted some kind of physical connection with him. I needed it.

I got my chance when he said, "How are women and tornadoes alike?"

"I dunno, tell me." I said after a moment of thinking.

"They both moan like hell when they come, and take the house when they leave." He replied with a snicker.

I leaned forward and exultantly shoved his knee. "You're bad." I laughed.

"Sounds like you doesn't it?"

I scoffed and hit his leg. The atmosphere between us changed completely within that split second. The smiles fell from our faces, and our laughter ceased. He took my hand from my lap and held my wrist firmly and at the same time ever so delicately. Carefully, he placed my hand on his leg. So, he'd wanted a physical connection just as badly, I mused.

With my left leg tucked underneath me and his right tucked beneath him as we faced one another, we sat in silence staring down at our small connection and occasionally glancing back up at each other. He seemed stunned at his action while I felt like a giddy little kid who was curiously and fearlessly discovering something for the first time. Only in our case it was the second first time.

He kept me there with my hand on his leg and his hand gingerly holding my wrist and part of me wanted to pull my hand away, slap him, and call him a mo-ron, but another part of me wanted to see how far we would go. Would he make the next move? Would the common sense side of me pull myself away and hit him? Hell, would I make the first move?

There was something about the way he was looking at me that made my heart beat faster the longer our eyes stayed locked. His eyes briefly darted down to my lips or perhaps my breasts, I wasn't sure but while he was distracted with one part of me or another I drank in his tanned face.

Seven years later and he still looked like my Brock. Though his bronze forehead held fairly deep wrinkles, and the corners of his eyes were beginning to crease now. He'd aged, but then again... so had I. Glancing back up I found his gaze penetrating mine. I could almost physically feel him undressing me in his mind and I felt naked. His leg twitched in response to me flexing my fingers and my lips curled playfully at the corners.

He didn't say a single word as I ran my hand over his thigh, squeezing gently as my fingers got closer to his groin. I kept my eyes locked on his and the father my hand moved the more my own body pulsed. He shifted beneath me and I finally realized that I was straddling him with a hand on each thigh and dangerously close to his swelling cock. Feeling how turned on I was and knowing that he was just as aroused made my body ache to have him nestled deep inside me. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my from moaning in ecstasy at the mere thought. Avoiding the object of my yearning completely I brought my hands to his chest and felt him through the fabric of his golf polo. My hands soon found their way to his head and I pulled his face toward mine, tugging at his hair and unconsciously manouvering myself so I sat squarely against his pelvis with my chest pressing against his.

His response was instantaneous. He grabbed tightly to my hips while he gently thrust against me and without missing a beat I moved with him, slowly grinding and feeling him stiffen beneath me with each pass of my hips.

The first to make a sound was me. I moaned into his mouth—loudly. Every bit of blood in my body had rushed below my waist and I was ready to burst at the seams. Hungrily I forced myself on him, moving closer, lowering myself even further and putting the bulk of my weight on his waist. I hoped the pressure and the closeness would frustrate him, make him be rough with me.

No such luck. Instead he pulled back and looked at me in amazement and confusion, fingers lingering at my jawline after he brushed a stray hair behind my ear.

"Reba..." He trailed off with a satisfied smile.

"Shh! Shh, shh, shh." I gripped his hair tighter and pulled him to meet my lips again. "God, I want you." I groaned.I slid my hands down over his chest and pulled the hem of his shirt from the waist of his pants, then kept on toward the prize. Despite my better judgement and usual want to take things slowly, my body had other ideas. I didn't just brush my hands over him, I found myself grabbing him, kneading him, making him squirm. He didn't stop me from playing with him through the fabric and slowly driving him insane until his hands joined mine and he quickly undid his belt.

I stopped him before he freed himself from the restriction. "Not here." I said. "Not on the couch." I took his hand as I rose and he stared at me with a look of complete wonder spread across his face as I lead him to the stairs.

A short pause at the foot of the stairs before heading up allowed him to grab my waist and pull me back against his chest. My backside bumped his waist and he thrust against me in response.

"Aren't you glad I talked Barbra Jean out of taking you with her?" He crooned.

I shivered. The heat of his words were caressing the very place I wanted him to be.