Authors: Sylvie Kaye
“Wendy Reed.” She took his hand.
“Excuse my appearance.” He gestured to his sweats and sneakers. “I’ve just come from the gym.”
“Wendy and I were at the
cineplex
.” Max pulled her closer, making it clear their togetherness wasn’t business related.
“Have a good night.” With a wink and a wave, he jogged off.
She looked at Max and sighed. “Another person who assumes you’re too young to be my date. Between Jim and Marsha, there’s going to be speculations flying over Monday morning lattes.”
Jingling the keys in his pocket, he searched her face. “What they think doesn’t concern me. I hope it doesn’t bother you?”
“It doesn’t when it’s just you and me.” Her shoulders sagged. “But when other people assume we couldn’t possibly be out together, I have to admit I have second and third thoughts about our age difference.”
“Screw them.” He smacked a kiss to her lips that raced her blood. “You’re gorgeous and they’re jealous idiots.”
No sooner did the words leave his mouth than a vibration hummed in her panties, and her impatience to get Max alone overshadowed her anxieties.
Chapter Six
Max drove Wendy home, saw her to the door, and let her drag him inside.
Lucky man that he was.
He kicked the door shut with the heel of his shoe while her crotch pressed against his growing hard-on. Her mouth devoured his and an ecstatic rush of blood shot to his head.
Both heads.
This woman made him laugh and
come,
he managed to make her laugh and come, and all without having to turn himself inside out to do it.
A welcome change in his life.
“We seem to spend a lot of time in foyers,” she mumbled between demanding kisses. “Let’s move into my bedroom.”
He pulled his mouth from hers. “No tour of the house?”
“After.” She took his hand and led him up the staircase and into the master suite. The bedroom smelt like her, spicy and feminine. The bed had a frilly canopy.
“Yours and Fred’s?”
He sat on the edge of the mattress.
She stood in front of him. “New.”
“Nice.” He reached out, pulled her closer by her hips and nuzzled his face into her crotch, inhaling her musky, sexy scent. She cradled his head and fisted her fingers into his hair.
Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, he tugged. “How about I give you your birthday present?”
Before he could make a move to assist, she unzipped and undressed with more ease and grace than a stripper. “I’m ready for my present now.” She stood before him naked with only the retrieval cord of the Golden Egg dangling.
His heart pounded. “You’re so damn sexy.”
“So are you when you’re not wearing so many clothes.” She ran her finger down his shirt placket in a suggestive gesture that wasn’t wasted.
He traded places with her, sitting her on the edge of the bed while he stripped for her, not bothering with much finesse.
Her eyes gleamed with lust all the same. “You’re quite fit and handsome. You’d make beautiful babies.” She eyed his ‘baby-making organ’. “I know you said you didn’t want a child now, but someday down the road you may want to leave your worldly possessions and gorgeous genes to one.”
He shook his head.
“You never know.”
But he knew. A high school football injury had left him infertile and he’d learned to accept it. “There are enough children in the world.” He didn’t want to discuss his sterility and kill the mood.
“One’s enough for me,” she said.
“If I ever have the desire to play daddy, you can lend me your son.” He leant down and smothered her mouth to kiss away any further discussion. Her anxiety over age and his over his immobile
swimmies
, as his ex lovingly called them, were both non-issues in their relationship as far as he was concerned.
Once he had her panting, he released her and fished through his jeans pocket for a rubber.
“Did I mention how much I admire your tight booty?” She leant back on her elbows while twirling her finger for him to turn around.
“Booty.”
He chuckled, obliging her by turning his backside to her.
“Can’t say the subject was mentioned.”
“Your buns are so round and squeezable and kissable. May I?”
“How can I refuse? No one’s ever complimented my ass in such glowing terms before.” The remark was flip, but he was pleased by her praise.
Her fingers caressed his behind, one hand on each cheek and she squeezed. His dick sprang up rock-hard. When her soft, moist mouth touched his flesh where her hands had been, his cock quivered and spurted pre-cum. He strained to keep from ravaging her until she finished kissing him.
Then he pounced.
He tucked her curvaceous body beneath his,
revelling
in her softness and wetness. With his cock nestled between her thighs and her ample breasts crushed beneath his chest, he clutched her hair in his fingers.
“Not much foreplay tonight.” She taunted with her eyes lighting up, her mouth temptingly open.
“I plan to eat your pussy.”
She stopped laughing.
“I take it you’re agreeable.”
“Oh, yes.” Her voice sounded silky and breathy.
Reaching down between her legs, he plucked the stimulator from her pussy and placed it on the night stand.
“I kind of miss it,” she said.
“I’m going to replace it with something even better.”
She shuddered, expectation glimmering in her eyes.
He dragged his body from hers, positioning her thighs over his shoulders so he had access to her sweet, tender inner lips.
As he touched the tip of his tongue to her slit, she bucked her hips to get closer to his mouth. But he gripped her bottom and stilled her movements. Teasing her, he flicked his tongue back and forth inside her folds with feathery but quick motions. She moaned and tried to grind her hips.
Her squirming urged him on. He delved deeper, harder, faster, licking and sucking. He slid his hands upward along her ribs, over her stomach. Her skin felt soft and supple, her body lush and taut. He felt her purr deep in her belly.
Sliding one hand down over her belly button and towards her pussy, he thumbed her clit while his mouth continued to devour her. She pumped her hips, pushed against his mouth and begged, “Please, Max.”
Her clit was a knotted nub. She was oh, so wet. He lapped at her musky juices. She tasted luscious. His cock felt ready to explode. But he’d promised to bring her to orgasm with his mouth and he planned to keep his word.
He penetrated her opening, plunging his tongue in and out fast until she shuddered and cried out. When her muscles tightened and then went lax, he released her legs and slithered atop her body.
Kissing her mouth while capturing her panting breaths, he murmured, “Happy birthday, Wendy.”
Chapter Seven
When Max finally entered Wendy, his hard, throbbing cock halted her breath in her throat. At her reaction, he heaved what sounded like a satisfied sigh.
As good as her climax had been just moments before, it didn’t compare to the sensation his erection, rigid and thick, was causing. With his every plunge, the ridge at the plump head clashed with her sensitive G-spot. As she ground her hips higher and quicker, a moan rose from somewhere low within her.
Desire soaked her pores and her nerve endings shivered. She clung to his sleek, toned body for all she was worth, digging her heels into his butt and her fingernails into his back. Heated blood beaded her throbbing nipples and clit, and she rubbed them against his chest and pubic bone as he plunged into her. She gave herself over to the sheer pleasure his body wrenched from hers.
He increased his tempo, and her muscles tensed. Small spasms racked her. With his next two strokes, she came with a gush of vaginal juices and a loud scream.
Shock widened her eyes. She’d never screamed during sex before. He grinned, his male ego obviously elated by her response.
Slithering her hand down between their bodies, she squeezed his sac, gently. His grin swiftly faded and his cock jerked with his thundering release.
He groaned and collapsed, keeping the bulk of his weight from her with his elbows. Touching his forehead to hers, he gasped for breath before speaking in a husky tone. “You’re just as terrific in missionary position as from behind.”
“You should see me stand on my head,” she kidded, pleased by the offhand compliment.
“I know this is going to sound out of the ordinary, but come away with me to Peru.” He raised himself up further and peered into her eyes, his heavy-lidded and dark with carnality.
“Peru?” She blinked. The notion of going away with him was touching, even if farfetched. And Peru was another continent, surely more than a weekend junket.
“I have plans in the works to visit Peru soon, and I’d love if you’d vacation with me.”
As their slick skin melded and the scent of sex and man clouded her thinking, she fought to find her voice. “I can’t. I have a family business to run. Employees depend on me. I don’t take vacations.”
“Let your son handle the family business for a couple of weeks.”
“Tyler doesn’t work with me. He’s studying marine
mammalogy
, and his share of the dealership profits help fund his research.”
Max lifted himself up onto his hands and looked down at her, surprise rounding his eyes. “You really don’t take vacations?”
She glanced down and trickled her fingers through the hair on his chest, downward towards the spot where their bodies were still joined. “I haven’t in years.”
Decades would be more accurate.
“Surely you can take a weekend off. We can fly to
Cancún
instead.” He kissed her nose and rolled from her body, as if the issue were settled.
“I work Saturdays.”
“We’ll have to see what we can do about changing that.” He helped her up from the bed and into the bathroom with its massive tile shower.
* * * *
Max had been convincing. It hadn’t been the slippery lather or the way he’d angled the showerheads. Although both had been persuasive, his logic had won her over. His credentials had been thoroughly screened and vouched for by the dating company. So who better to figure out a way to afford her time off than a financial adviser?
“New?” Max asked later in Wendy’s living room.
She nodded as they sat on her plush sofa with her financial records spread out on the cocktail table. “The sofa’s made from natural
fibres
,” she said proudly.
“Are you an environmentalist?”
“I only recently started to do little things when I began redecorating. As a car dealer, I try to steer customers towards the more eco-friendly models.”
“Still trying to get me to trade in my Jag?” He
plonked
his coffee mug onto the table and concentrated on her accounts with the same intensity as he made love.
His feet were bare and his hair damp from the shower. He wore only his trousers. He looked sexy and capable as she curled up next to him in her short, terry robe, sipping from her mug of tea, feeling irresponsible.
And loving it.
Every now and then, he reached over and absent-mindedly stroked her naked thigh. His hand was strong and large and tender. She all but purred.
What a delicious man. What a delicious time in her life.
Picking up an empty tablet from alongside the pad where he scribbled numbers, she began to doodle. In a short time, a
pencilled
sketch of Max took shape. As she shaded and smudged, a click from the front door lock startled her.
As the door creaked, she jumped.
Her son had a house key.
Before she could tell Max to hide, the door opened and Tyler entered. “I felt bad about leaving you alone on your birthday. Rachel understood when I cut our date short.”
She stood frozen, yanking the collar of her robe tight at the throat. She didn’t know whether to hug him or hide. She couldn’t leave Max alone with him. Who knew what would happen?
Max rose.
“We left before the encore. After dropping Rachel at her apartment, I hurried over…” Tyler’s voice trailed off. He eyeballed her short robe, her bed-mussed hair and
lipstickless
mouth. He scowled like he did whenever she made changes around the place.
“What’s going on?” He slung his hands on to his slender hips. “Who’s he?” He stepped towards the living room but she blocked his path.
“My date, Max.”
Who was shirtless and
shoeless.
Thank goodness he had pants on. She gestured for Max to stay where he was. She didn’t want him any closer to Tyler with her son in such a disapproving mood. Suppose they ended up mixing it up? Suppose someone got hurt?
With a polite nod in their direction, Max stayed put, but remained standing. She shivered from the tension swirling the room.