Falling For the Younger Man: An Older Woman Younger Man Romance (Summer Secrets)

by Emma Tharp

  "We feel amazing together," she says in a low throaty voice.

  She’s right. No physical sensation has ever felt this good, but what’s better is the emotional connection that intensifies the building pleasure between us.

  I grasp behind her legs and push them back, changing the angle. Each sensation gets sharper—more powerful. "You drive me crazy," I whisper into her ear before grazing her neck and shoulder with my teeth. Grace tilts her head to the side, granting me better access. I lick and nip the delicate skin over her pulse point. When she moans and tightens her grip on my shoulders, I know she's close.

  Tension begins to wrap down my spine, building and growing stronger with each thrust.

  With wide eyes, I stare as Grace surrenders her last bit of control. Her body convulses and waves of pleasure throb through her.

  My grip on her hips tightens as I pound into her. My mouth is on hers and my tongue plunges past her lips, wild and deep.

  A guttural groan comes from my throat and every single one of my muscles contracts with my own shuttering orgasm.

  Burying my face in the crook of her neck, I wait for my breath to come back. "You make me so hot," I growl against her soft skin.

  She giggles and I feel the rumble in her chest. "The feeling is mutual."

  I stare into her sapphire eyes and my chest constricts. We simply fit together and I don't want to lose her. "You're mine now, right?"

  Grace strokes the side of my face with her fingertip. "Yes. I'm yours."

  My pulse begins to slow down a few beats and I exhale in relief. I don't think I've ever been this vulnerable with anyone. "Good. I don't want to share you with anyone."

  Her mouth curves into a sexy smile and she grabs my biceps. "It's official then."

  Those three words make me immeasurably happy. I sweep her up into my arms and capture her mouth with mine, carrying her toward the bedroom.

  I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of her.

  I take my first sip of coffee when a text alert goes off on my phone.

  Good morning, handsome.

  I can’t help but smile, seeing her text first thing this morning. We normally text several times a day when she’s gone during the week and it’s a nightly ritual that we FaceTime in the evenings. It keeps us close even when we can’t be together.

  Morning, beautiful.

  I have a favor to ask.

  You know I’ll do ANYTHING you ask ;)

  There’s a bin in my closet that’s full of paperwork. Would you mind finding the title to my car? I’m going to need it when I trade it in next week.

  She mentioned that she was long overdue for a new car. She must have found something she likes.

  Of course. I’ll take care of it.

  You’re the best. You always take good care of me.

  I try. I can’t wait to see you. Just three more days until I can take care of you again ;)

  Looking forward to it. You know I’ll reciprocate. Gotta go though. I have a meeting with a client. Thanks for your help. <3

  Damn. This woman can make me hard from a simple text message. I readjust myself and make my way to the bedroom to find her car title. If I don’t do it now, I might forget.

  There’s a large plastic tote in the closet. It’s so full, it’s possible the thing contains documents from the last ten years. I better get to business.

  Moving the tote to the bed, I remove the cover and set it aside. There’s stacks and stacks of folders on top and none are labeled. One day I’ll ask her if she needs help going through this. We could organize it to make it easier to find what she needs.

  I open the first file on top. It’s thick and must contain at least one hundred pages. The first page is letterhead from The Hutchins Group and has Henry’s name on it. I skim the next few pages and my stomach sinks. This clearly isn’t her car title, and I should probably close this file and move on, but I can’t stop myself from reading on.

  My blood starts to boil.

  Grabbing my cell phone, I type out a quick message to one of my trusted attorney friends.

  Can we meet ASAP? I need your help.

  Seventeen

  Grace

  A ding from my cell phone has me looking down at it while I sit at a red light on my way home from work. A little thrill runs through me when I see his name across my screen. He’s thinking of me.

  Our company Labor Day picnic is tomorrow.

  I tap out a quick reply.

  Ours is, too.

  We’ll go to both. When will you be here?

  I'll be home in ten minutes.

  Wine and a foot massage are waiting for you.

  I could get used to this.

  You should get used to this.

  I send him the :-) emoji and put my phone down. I know it's foolish of me, but I still can't help the excitement.

  We're both back in Boston and tomorrow officially starts Labor Day weekend. Chance’s college classes started two weeks ago and he began an internship. But he’s made good on his promise to spend time with me whenever he can. Turns out, it's more often than I thought it would be and I love every moment. Most nights he stays at my place. With Max away at school and Cam and Jenna living together, I officially live alone. Chance hasn’t moved in, but most of his stuff is there.

  For the rest of the drive, I crank up the music. Love songs, ballads. Never in my life have I sung the lyrics out loud like I do now. I’ve turned into a corny teenage girl.

  Pulling into my driveway, I apply a thin layer of lip gloss and make my way inside.

  My tall, handsome boyfriend greets me at the door with a glass of white wine in his hand. He’s always thinking of me. My body melts at the sight.

  Leaning down, Chance gives me a sweet, gentle kiss on the lips. "How was your day?"

  I set my purse on the counter and have a sip of the cool, crisp wine. "It was good, but it's much better now."

  Chance grabs my hand and leads me toward the couch. "I ordered Korean food. It should be here in thirty minutes. Lie down, I owe you a foot rub."

  Memories of last night come flooding in. I gave Chance a shoulder massage that ended with us in bed for three hours. Three hours! I haven't had sex with someone for that long since I was a teenager.

  Removing my heels, I take my seat and lie down, spilling out across the couch.

  He perches himself at the other end and takes one of my feet in his big warm hands. Suddenly, all the tension from the day leaves my body. "We're going to have a busy day tomorrow if we have to go to two Labor Day parties in one day," he says.

  "Or, we could skip both and stay here in bed." That would be the ideal scenario. To stay in our happy cocoon, far away from judging eyes.

  Chance expertly presses his thumb over my arch and I nearly moan. "We should make an appearance at both. But we don’t have to stay long. I think it'll be fun to meet your coworkers."

  Fun? Yeah, right. My neck and shoulders tense. "I'm not so sure it will be fun."

  "Why are you being so cynical?" he asks.

  I exhale a long breath and close my eyes. For the last two months, since we started seeing each other, we haven't been out together in public much. I worry what my coworkers might think when they see us together. "Aren't you concerned that people will judge us?"

  Chance grabs some massage oil off the end table and squirts some in his hands. Then, he kneads the muscles of my calf. "Nope. If they judge us, that’s their problem, not ours. They aren’t worth our time."

  I take a gulp of my wine and can already picture the looks we’re going to get. "Maybe not, but we still have to work with them."

  "Grace, I'm excited to show you off. We’re two consenting adults who care about each other and make each other happy. That's all that matters to me. Don't you feel the same?" He stares at me with those beautiful, warm, and sincere gray eyes that make my heart skip a beat.

  If he feels that way, I guess I'm going to have to start getting used to it, too. Chance has worked his way
into my heart, and that means that I have to be prepared for all aspects of our relationship. The good and bad. "You're right. If people criticize us or judge us, we will deal with it because you are important to me." My emotions feel prickly and raw. As much as I don't want it to happen, I know it will. A few months ago, if I saw an older woman with a much younger man, I would probably judge them and call her a cradle robber. Yet, here I am, falling for a man who is much younger than me. "I care about you. Very much."

  Chance gives me a heart stopping, panty-melting smile that lights me up on the inside. "I love hearing that."

  And I love telling him even if it makes me feel uncomfortably vulnerable, because he’s making me see who I am, and I like who I see.

  Overcome with emotion, I sit up, crawl up Chance’s body, and straddle his legs. He wraps his arms around me and I rest my palms on his cheeks. I capture his mouth in a deep, hot kiss. Everything in me starts to throb and ache for him. "How about we continue the foot rub later?"

  He squeezes my ass and his hard length presses into me. His eyes darken as he says, "Anything you want, Grace. You know I'll give it to you."

  A devilish grin spreads across my face seconds before I rock my hips against him and devour his mouth.

  Eighteen

  Grace

  Despite being dressed to the nines—and having a good hair day—I can't help feeling uneasy as my twenty-two-year-old boyfriend holds my hand and we walk into the park that the Sage Group has rented out for their annual Labor Day barbecue.

  The sun sits high in the cloudless sky. The smell of the briny sea air, charcoal grills, and the sound of lapping waves should calm me, but not today. Instead, my eyes scan the groups of people sitting at picnic tables, no doubt gossiping about everyone else here today.

  "Are you okay, Grace? Your hand is shaking.” Chance leans down and whispers in my ear.

  I give him a quick smile and take a deep, calming breath. "Just a little nervous. But I'll be fine."

  He stops me and turns me toward him. His beautiful gray eyes penetrate mine. "Remember what we talked about. We aren't going to let anyone ruin our great day. Okay?"

  How can I forget? While we were sipping coffee this morning, naked in bed, Chance could tell I was on edge. I'm grateful that he's been so reassuring. I wish I could drop it and allow myself to enjoy today. It's only that I know all eyes are going to be on us and people are going to talk—just like they talked after Henry died. All the local gossip revolved around my dead cheating husband who left me with nothing. It was horrible. I keep telling myself to stop giving a shit about what people think, but it’s still a work in progress.

  "I'm okay,” I tell him as I square my shoulders and put one foot in front of the other.

  "Good. We’ve got this."

  As we approach the picnic area, there are couple games of volleyball going on. A group of twentysomethings are batting the ball around with little to no skill. The ball comes racing toward us and Chance grabs it out of the air.

  A tall giggling redhead comes rushing over and stands in front of Chance. He hands her the ball. "Thank you."

  "No problem," he says, seeming to not notice the girl’s barely there jean shorts and cropped shirt.

  She sashays away toward her friends, who all come together, laughing and staring at Chance. Again, he doesn't seem to notice. But I can't help the way their eyes dance over his body. I'm sure it's exactly the way I looked at him the first time I saw his broad shoulders and defined muscles.

  I can only imagine what they’re laughing about. Such a young man is with a woman old enough to be his mother!

  Instead of focusing on their continued gawking at my boyfriend, Chance and I make our way toward the tables set up with food.

  "Hey, I'm going to go get us drinks. Would you like some white wine?" Chance asks.

  "That would be perfect. Would you like me to grab you a burger?"

  Chance leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek. "Sounds great."

  There's a small line backed up waiting in front of the grills. I find a spot at the end and wait.

  "Hey, Grace, is that your son? He's really grown-up. What a cutie!" Tiffany, from accounting, squeals.

  Turning toward her, I paint on a fake smile. “No, he's not. We’re dating,” I say matter-of-factly and turn around, not inviting more conversation from a woman that I barely speak to anyway.

  By the grace of God, the line moves quickly and I grab a couple of hamburgers and pasta salad and take them to a nearby table.

  Kristi, an acquaintance of mine who works in the same office as I do, is sitting with her family. I say hello to each of them and take a seat.

  "I'm so glad you sat down, I can't take another minute of the guys talking about football," Kristi says, rolling her eyes and popping a barbecue chip in her mouth.

  Glancing over, I note that her husband and son look to be in a deep conversation with another group of guys, complete with passionate displays of hand movements and other gestures I associate with talking sports. "I promise I won't bring up anything that has to do with athletics."

  She laughs and pats my hand. "So, tell me about your summer. You seem to be wearing a newfound glow around the office."

  I press my lips together and nod. There's no hiding Chance; he's on his way back to the table. I can't help but stare at my gorgeous boyfriend as he makes his way through the crowds of people toward me. "I'm seeing someone. I'm really happy."

  Kristi leans her head on her hand, staring me down as if I'm going to tell her the secrets of the universe. "Do tell. I've been married for fifteen years and things have been a little stale lately, so give me all the juicy details."

  Just then, Chance walks up to us, bends down, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and sets my white wine in front of me. He takes his seat and smiles at Kristi. "Hello, I'm Chance, Grace’s boyfriend."

  Kristi’s jaw nearly hits the picnic table. I watch her eyes move up and down Chance’s body as he takes a seat next to me. To her credit, she recovers quickly and reaches out to shake Chance’s hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm thrilled to meet the man who put a smile on Grace's face lately."

  "That's sweet of you to say, she does the same for me." Chance takes a bite of his hamburger and frowns. "Wait, there's no ketchup. Did you see any?"

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I think there's some on the table over there." I point in the general direction of the paper plates and plasticware. "I can grab you some."

  Chance stands and rests his hand on my shoulder. "No problem. Chat with your friend. I'll go grab it."

  As soon as he walks away, Kristi leans in and gives me a conspiratorial nudge. "Now you really need to spill. Who is he? A male escort?" she asks in a hushed tone.

  Whipping my head back and forth like I'm experiencing a mild exorcism, I say, "No!"

  She holds her hand up. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. Where did you meet him?"

  I take a long, cold sip of my wine, giving me a second to recover and figure out just how much I'm going to tell her. I quickly decide that I'm not going to lie about Chance. He doesn't deserve that. "In Cape Cod."

  She taps her fingers on the table like she's attempting to formulate a plan. "I see. Looks like I'll be going to Cape Cod next summer."

  "You're married," I say under my breath so her husband doesn't hear.

  "I know, but I'm entitled to a midlife crisis as much as you are. Because that's clearly what he is. You know there can't be a future with him." There's a bite to her words and they hit their mark squarely in my heart.

  “That’s a terrible thing to say. Chance is a smart man studying to be a lawyer, and he’s going to be a good one. Not to mention, he’s thoughtful and kind. Sure, he’s nice-looking and young, but that doesn’t make him a midlife crisis.” The words spill out in a rush and I start to get dizzy. I inhale sharply and grasp my chest trying to stop the sudden ache there.

  It’s suddenly very hard to breathe. I need to get out of here.

  “I’m sorry, Grace. Are you okay?�
�� Kristi asks, but her voice sounds muffled like she’s speaking to me underwater.

  Shooting off my seat, I walk run away from the barbecue without saying goodbye to anyone. Even Chance. I simply don’t have the strength to do it.

  I rush to my car, get inside, and turn the ignition. I can’t get the windows rolled down fast enough. It takes a few minutes, but my breathing starts to slow down enough that I can drive.

  Maybe I should call Chance. No, I can’t take the time. I need to get away from here as fast as possible.

  Speeding away, I don't look back.

  What in the world was I thinking? I knew this would never work.

  Nineteen

  Chance

  A wave of panic washes over me.

  I was almost back at our table when I heard the bitch sitting next to Grace call me a midlife crisis. Grace’s face was as white as a ghost. Then she got up and stormed off. It seemed like a smart move to give her a minute, some space to collect herself, but now I've been running around the damn state park for ten minutes and can't find her.

  My stomach is sick and I do my best not to lose my shit.

  Her cell phone goes immediately to voice mail when I try calling her. The only conclusion I can draw is that she was so upset that she left me here and ran away.

  I knew it was risky coming here together, but I thought it’d be like ripping off a Band-Aid. Just get it over with. Let people talk. I don't give a shit what they say—it’s all on them. But clearly people's mindless chatter is more than Grace can handle.

  Now, I fear that the scars left from the gossip when Henry died and other people's opinions are going to ruin what Grace and I are starting to build.

  I see red.

  Before I have a chance to think, I walk toward the picnic tables where the largest group of people are sitting and open my mouth. "Excuse me, may I have your attention?" My voice is loud and clear.

  Several people stop what they're doing and stare up at me. Many are slack-jawed, giving me the who-the-hell-are-you look.