Author's Note: This story is a sequel to my first story "His Annual Visit." While it is not absolutely necessary to have read it to enjoy this story, there are several references to what had happened during Rick's previous visit. Reading it first may be beneficial to the reader.
"Even if nothing happens between us, I am still looking forward to seeing you and Evan again." Tasha read the message with a slight grin and a sigh. The exasperating man, she thought. That was how it had been all year. She could never get a proper read on his feelings. Alternately flirty and reticent, it sometimes felt like she and Rick were having a coded conversation for which neither of them had the full translation.
Tasha thought back and felt again the almost intoxicated giddiness of the memory. After twelve years she and Rick had finally given in to their long-term mutual attraction and kissed. That brought out long-buried emotions and over a decade of sexual tension to the surface. Things had rapidly accelerated until she was topless on his lap. It had almost gone further, but Evan's surprise when he found them had put things to a halt.
Tasha started to frown as she remembered her terror at the interruption, but it quickly dropped and she grinned again. Instead of anger and outrage at her, Evan had admitted that having seen her with another man had turned him on. She was still amazed. She and Evan had never been monogamous, but their other affairs had always been with women. She had never involved another man. The closest she had come in the past was a single disastrous kiss with Rick years earlier that had caused a scene so ugly it had left her a recluse too scared to go out.
The last year had been a serious relationship adjustment, but she and Evan had grown closer and more in love than ever. They had broken down the last walls and barriers between them and could both finally be honest with each other in ways they hadn't been able to previously. Tasha knew that Evan simultaneously battled jealousy and desire, just as she had with him and their ex-girlfriends. At the same time he knew she had to sort out layers of guilt, shame and need that had been with her most of her adult life.
Evan loved to tease her about her growing thirty-something libido and wondered regularly why she wanted another aging man staring down mid-life crisis. His gentle humor made it considerably easier to ride out the waves of their changing dynamic and Tasha blessed him every day for it.
Tasha chewed on the side of her cheek, torn between excitement and exhaustion. She had dreamt of seeing Rick again and what would happen, but the emotional gauntlet she had run for the last year had left its mark in sleepless nights, worry lines around her tired hazel eyes and slivers of grey in her dark hair. She had rung out her mind and laid bare to herself every hidden reaction and awkward misstep in their decade plus acquaintance in a desperate attempt to sort out her chaotic feelings.
Not all of it was pretty. She had barely been able to stand him most of the first year after they met. Yes she had felt a spark when they met, but they had butted heads almost constantly for months afterward. The arrogant and occasionally obnoxious lothario would bring out her inherent need to challenge self-appointed authority figures as well as her desire to prove to him that at least one woman was immune to his charms.
As naïve as she has been at eighteen she was sharp enough to spot a player. He may have had great game, but she had no interest whatsoever in playing it at that age. She didn't particularly want to play now for that matter. However the game had definitely changed and to one in that she didn't understand the rules of and in which she knew far less about her "opponent" than she had ever thought.
A dozen conflicting impulses pulled her in different directions. Tasha was quite fond of Rick. It had taken a long time and a lot of dissension, but they had been great friends for over a decade. An attraction had been there for a long time and she didn't regret what had happened the last time he was in town. Yet there was a part of her that felt a little sketchy about the whole thing.
It wasn't his free-love advocacy that was the problem so much as she was bothered by the feeling that she had gone "where everyone had gone before." She had succumbed to the charms of the most notorious Don Juan she had ever met and there was a part of her that couldn't believe she had fallen for it or him. She had to admit though he had put the practice to good use. She thought again of the incredible intensity and gentleness of his kisses and caresses.
Anticipation may be the world's finest aphrodisiac, but nearly fifty-one weeks later anticipation had turned into vague doubts and second-guessing. It didn't help that she was too afraid of rejection to ask him point blank about his feelings, especially when she wasn't sure of her own. Sometimes she suspected that he was doing the exact same thing. They both wrote the occasional message or post that seemed to have a second meaning. It almost felt like they were having two conversations at once, but she was scared to presume. She couldn't afford to be wrong and cost herself one of her dearest friends.
At times he was openly salacious like a lover. She chuckled at the memory of his public suggestion that she needed to masturbate when she mentioned she was tense and Evan was out of town. Or his veiled comments when he got back to Annapolis about how much he liked small breasts. There were his words of advice that sounded so general, but always managed to be exactly what she needed to hear.
Then there were the weeks on end she didn't hear a word from him and she wondered if she had upset him or said the wrong thing or pushed too much.
At least his message meant she didn't have to worry about him having blown her off. As he had said to her; even if nothing happened she still looked forward to seeing her friend. She smiled again, now re-focused on the positive. She clicked the reply button and typed, "Can't wait to see you....," she stopped, unsure of what endearment to use. She ran a few through her head before she went with her default "hon." She tended to use it with her friends as a matter of course so it seemed the least controversial choice, even as another part of her brain told her it was a cop out. "No matter what happens," she finished. She clicked send, let out a long, anxious breath and took a sip of Syrah.
Tasha's eyes blurred looking at the sent screen, her mind lost in thought. There was more to look forward to than just a visit from Rick. Evan's oldest friend Chase, who he hadn't seen since they were kids before they had all hung out with Rick the year before, was also coming up for a visit. She had rarely ever seen Evan so excited. The pair of old friends had only had a few minutes the year before; this year she hoped they would have the opportunity to really catch up.
Chase seemed to be a really sweet guy and she was pleased at the chance to get to know him better. She ignored the memory of the mildly flirtatious look they had shared. Things were already more than confused enough. She took another sip of wine. If nothing else; it would be a nice night of old friends re-connecting she thought.
Tasha looked up from her computer over to where Evan sat watching TV. She drank in the sight of the man she had loved since she was eighteen. He still looked amazing. His nearly black hair had barely greyed and the lines in his face were more from laughter and still fairly few. His sideburns were salt and pepper, but they added distinguish to his looks He caught her stare and gave her a million dollar smile. "What's up Sash?" he asked.
"Not much; just heard from Rick. He's looking forward to seeing us," she responded.
Evan's blue eyes glimmered with humor. "Yeah, I'm sure he's looking forward to seeing YOU."
Uh oh, Tasha thought. She had better calm Evan's ego down and quick.
