Crocodile Dan D: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 40)

by Flora Ferrari

  I move my hands and place them on his body. His muscles are thick and huge, as everything is with him apparently.

  “Okay, enough you lovebirds,” a voice says.

  “I’m getting the exclusive!”

  “I was here first bitch!”

  I hear a loud thump in the sand and our lips come apart.

  I turn and see two of the very attractive and polished news ladies wrestling in the sand.

  Suddenly one bops the other over the head with her microphone and knocks her out cold!

  “Somebody get an ambulance,” a man yells.

  “Yeah, somebody better call an ambulance,” the mystery man below me says.

  “Somebody might be hurt,” I say.

  We both pause for a minute before busting out laughing.

  “Now’s our chance,” I say.

  “Agreed. Let’s get out of here,” he says.

  We jump up from the sand and as the crowd now circles around the two women we quietly slide out of there.

  Together.

  CHAPTER 6

  Dan

  “I’m parked just around the back over here,” I say. “I’ll give you a lift out of here.”

  “Thanks. The last thing I want to do is lose time on my vacation answering reporters’ questions.”

  “You’re here on a holiday?” I ask. What a way to get it started.

  “Working holiday. I just finished the working part and now I’ve got a couple weeks to travel.”

  She pauses. She looks at my combie and then back at me.

  “You’ve got a van,” she says.

  “We call it a combie down here, but yeah…same difference.”

  “I was thinking about getting one with some of my friends and doing the famous backpacker trail up the East Coast.”

  “That’s a great idea, and a wonderful way to see Aus,” I say.

  I don’t know what it is about her, but part of me wants to throw her in my own van and have my way with her. Not only that she seems fun and adventurous and I do have some time off right now. We could have one heck of an adventure cruising up the coast together. We certainly started off with a lot of excitement already.

  I like that she’s tough. She got attacked by a croc earlier and she’s already shaking it off and looking ahead. It’s summer down here. It’s sunny. She’s positive.

  And I can’t deny the most obvious part.

  The way she looks in that swimsuit.

  She still has on a rash guard up top, but that does little to hide what’s underneath.

  Damn!

  What are they putting in the water back where she’s from?

  And down below she’s got a bikini bottom that’s hugging that apple bottom of hers.

  But still the things that gets me the most is that face of hers. That enthusiasm and youthful exuberance that’s written all over it.

  A lot of people tell me I still have that about myself, but there’s just something different about it when it comes to younger people.

  Especially her.

  I see kids her age down here all the time making the trek up and down the coast.

  Sometimes we have a chat if there’s a lull in the sets out in the water when I’m out surfing, but I’ve never really hung out with any of them.

  But I’m not even thinking of “hanging out” with her. I’m thinking of so much more.

  But she’s not down here for that. She’s down here to have fun in the sun with people her own age. I should just leave her be.

  I’ll forget all about it in a few days time.

  Except I know I won’t.

  That’s the problem.

  Memories of what happened in the water will certainly fade, but not the sight of that face of hers. I swear there’s something about it. Something so different. Something that just draws me in and holds me there. I hate to say the word captivates, because it seems like such a girly word that you’d find in a Disney movie or something, but there’s no other way to describe it.

  I can’t stop looking at her.

  And I can’t stop these thoughts I’m having. Thoughts that I haven’t had in a very long time. Not like this. If I’m honest with myself maybe I’ve never had thoughts like this about anyone. Certainly not such strong thoughts, and definitely not after just meeting someone.

  “Yeah, something is telling me maybe I shouldn’t go with my friends. I think it would be much more interesting to experience it more authentically,” she says.

  Is she asking me to invite her? I want to but…I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right. Plus I don’t want to get involved in something only to see her leave in a short amount of time.

  I know things would get hot and heavy and once they did there’d be no going back. When I’m in, I’m in all the way. I’m completely committed.

  I couldn’t approach something with her only to know in the back of my mind that we’re working on a short time frame and that it’s not “real.”

  I’m too old to play games, not that I ever did. I want something real or I want nothing.

  But the thought of having nothing with her seems like the missed opportunity of a lifetime.

  I’m trying to reason my way out of this, but it’s just not working.

  The way I feel about her can’t be swayed by logic.

  It’s still too early to know anything, but how will I know if I don’t give it a chance?

  “Did you have a way you were thinking of experiencing it more…authentically?”

  “Well, I didn’t until…very, very recently.”

  Yeah, it’s on. But do I want to take the bait here.

  My mind is still telling me no. This is just a tourist looking for a good time. As corny as it sounds I’d be the one to get the short end of the stick when her time here ended. She’d get a fun memory of “some Australian guy.” I’m not about to be that guy.

  “I don’t know…anybody that could…you know…help you out with that.” Damn, just get rid of her already. Be a man and send her on her way. I took down a croc for Pete’s sake. Why can’t I just out-wrestle a little verbal judo from this foreign girl?

  “I wasn’t thinking you’d have to know anybody, per say. Just maybe that you were, well…I mean you have the van and everything.”

  “I like to travel alone. Plus, I mean…you’re too young and you’re on holiday. You wouldn’t want to live how I live. Sleeping in the combie. Camping by the side of the road. Sometimes I just fall asleep right in the sand if I’m completely knackered from a surf session.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s exactly the kind of experience I’m looking to have.”

  “Experience? I’m not really up for playing tour guide. I’ve got a life to live.”

  I turn and slide the combie door open.

  “I’ll give you a ride to wherever you’re going, but I think after that it’s best to part ways.”

  “I can pay for gas and pitch in for everything else. I’ve got money from all the fruit picking I did.”

  “I don’t want any money, and what makes you think I’m even going up that way?”

  “Well, I see all the stickers on your van, I mean combie, from Cairns. What do we have here? Skydiving. Surfing. Sand boarding. Four wheeling. I’m guessing you’ve been up that way a time or two, and the odds are you might already be headed that direction again.”

  She’s got me there. You don’t exactly have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out, but she was attentive enough to pick up on it quickly.

  “I might head up that way, but that still doesn’t mean I’m looking for company. I move faster when I’m alone.”

  “You won’t even notice I’m there.”

  “Oh, I’ll notice,” I say. Damn! Did she take that the way I accidentally meant?

  “I’ll try and be…unnoticeable,” she says.

  “That’s not possible.” What’s gotten into me? I’m putting myself out there. No games. Just straightforward letting her know that I like what I see. I’m not for
games anyways, but that doesn’t mean I have to just throw myself at her straight away.

  “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll cook. I’ll clean the van. I’ll pay for all the gas. I want this adventure, and how could I not feel safe doing it with the guy who just risked it all to come and save me.”

  “Any guy worth his salt would have done the same thing.”

  “But most guys aren’t worth their salt. The beach was packed. Only you came to help me.”

  “It’s just the way I was raised. That’s all.”

  “Raised, huh?” she looks down at my trunks. I don’t have to look for myself to realize what’s going on down there. I’m hard as the stick shift in my combie and just as long, only a lot, lot thicker.

  “Are all foreign girls this forward?” I ask.

  “I don’t know, but this one is when she knows what she wants.”

  “I can see that,” I say, glancing down at her nipples which are now popping through not only her swimsuit top, but her rash guard. Damn, she must be turned on as hell to have her headlights on the high beams all the way through a rash guard.

  “What do you say?” she says.

  “I say how old are you?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “Twenty-two? You’re just a baby. I’m old enough to be—“

  “My big brother or maybe my uncle. Not my dad.”

  “Guess it depends on what kind of family you come from.”

  “Very funny,” she says.

  Her straight face cracks as she breaks a smile.

  I try to keep it cool, but the corner of my lip does turn up a bit.

  “You don’t even know how old I am,” I say.

  “I don’t have to. I don’t care. Age isn’t anything more than a number. Boys my age aren’t always so reliable anyways. I’d prefer the company of a man who knows himself and what he wants and isn’t bashful about getting it.”

  She’s laying it on thick and…it’s working.

  The thing I can’t reconcile is she’s describing me exactly how I am. For some reason I’m just trying to avoid going for what I want right now.

  For the first time in my life I’m denying myself and it feels weird. Beyond weird.

  It’s messing with my mind. It’s not who I am. It’s confusing as hell.

  I just know there’s that safety measure in place in my mind that’s telling me to stop. That it’s going to be too much fun and things are going to progress too quickly and too deeply.

  There’s going to be no going back once we get started.

  I’m thirty-five years old. I’m a full thirteen years older than her. Lucky thirteen, huh?

  “I’m driving non-stop to Byron Bay. If I think we’re not getting along or if I decide for any reason I want to do my own thing I’ll drop you there. It’s along the path you were going to take anyways and it’s a great place to hang out.”

  She nods her head in excitement.

  “My decision. I can drop you there for any reason. Without a reason, actually.”

  “Okay, but I know you won’t want to.”

  That’s the part that worries me the most. I know I won’t want to one bit.

  “Get in,” I say.

  CHAPTER 7

  Ruby

  We drive all afternoon.

  At first I don’t say anything. I felt bad enough asking him to circle around and pick up my bag before we left Sydney.

  I sat shotgun and just enjoyed the view out the window.

  He was quiet himself, but it wasn’t necessarily a peaceful kind of quiet.

  At first I just thought he was enjoying the beautiful and majestic scenery of his homeland, but later I realized there might have been something else involved.

  Every few minutes he moved around in his seat to try and get comfortable. I waited for him to look out the window before taking a closer inspection.

  Was his seat off? Didn’t appear to be.

  Sun hitting him directly making him too hot? Nope.

  Something else? Not that I could see.

  Until my eyes drifted further south.

  I could see that huge erection of his trying to break out of his shorts again.

  But it wasn’t trying any more!

  His cock was too big causing the head of it to protrude out the bottom of the shorts.

  Oh my god, he could put an eye out with that thing…mine if I keep staring!

  His head comes back around to the road and I whip mine around the same direction.

  Did he notice me?

  Did he catch me?

  He said nothing and just continued along as if nothing happened.

  Except that it did, and continued to.

  I snuck a few glances out of my peripheral vision and each time it was still there. It moved a bit, but it was always there.

  Couldn’t he feel that the horse was out of the stable?

  Wasn’t the wind on his wiener a clue enough? There was a breeze in here after all as we had the windows down. I never took him for an air conditioning kind of guy, nor was I that kind of gal.

  We arrive at the first service station, or servo as they’re called, and he begins pumping the petrol.

  I run inside to use the ladies room, but grab a few snacks for us while I’m in there.

  When I come out the combie is still there, but he’s gone.

  A few moments later he emerges from inside with a bag of his own.

  “Thought I’d get us some snacks for the road,” he says.

  “I had the same though,” I say.

  We hand each other our bags and try not to laugh.

  “This is your bag or mine?”

  “I’m not sure. Did I mess it up?”

  We exchange bags again and look inside again.

  “Well, that sure is a coincidence.”

  “You’ve got great…taste,” I say.

  We both bust out laughing. We picked the exact same snacks.

  “Well, that’s one argument diverted,” I say.

  “Come again?”

  “There won’t be any argument over snacks. We both got the same thing,” I say.

  “But what about the radio?” he jokes.

  “I’m up for some eighties music if it’s available and you’re if okay with it.”

  “Are you teasing me about my age?”

  “No! Not at all. Are you kidding me? The eighties were a great time. So happy and fun and colorful.”

  “Wait a second. You weren’t even alive back then?”

  “Hello! YouTube and 80’s theme night parties in college, or should I say uni.”

  “Great. So my generation has become a punch line.”

  “Far from it. You hear that music and immediately wish you could have experienced that time. It seems like it would have been so fun back then. More simple and innocent.”

  “Innocent huh? Well…it sure was.”

  “And that was before everyone stared into their mobile phones all day. Instead people actually talked and hung out and had cool experiences…not like the experiences today of downloading some app and playing it all day long.”

  “They design those thing to be addictive, don’t they?”

  “Almost as much as these snacks,” I say.

  We both laugh.

  I like that he’s opening up more and we’re starting to have a real conversation. One that flows and is fun.

  Sure, he’s a big strong guy who’s very attractive, but I need something more than that to make this whole thing worthwhile.

  I had a good feeling that we’d get along like two peas in a pod, but if for some reason we didn’t I’d be happy to take him up on his offer of going our separate ways once we reached Byron Bay.

  My time to see the country is limited and I want to enjoy it…as much as I want to enjoy his company, depending on how far we expand the definition of company.