Let Me Love You: Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Mia Madison

He was so sweet, how could I not?

  “Of course. I’ll help however I can. But I honestly think most of the problem is just in your head. You’ve got a lot of great qualities, Miguel, and any woman should be able to see that. You’ve just gotta… show them off a little.”

  I hadn’t done the best job of articulating what I was thinking, and it showed on his face. He didn’t seem reassured by my statement, just confused.

  “That’s what I’m hoping you can help with, though. Help me show off. I’m a fast learner.”

  I smiled. I was warming up to the idea of being able to show a man how I wanted to be treated, to tell him exactly how he was making me feel in any given situation. It would certainly be a change of pace from Desmond, who had always expected me to stay in the background, and never asked my opinion on anything, especially not the kinds of things Miguel was asking for.

  “I’ll do it,” I confirmed, taking the last drink of wine from my glass. “Gladly. And I think we can get started tonight. Right now.”

  He seemed a little taken aback by my enthusiasm, but only for a moment. He finished his wine in one long sip and nodded, his wide smile reappearing. My heart leapt at the cute dimple that popped up as he revealed his adorable smile.

  “I’m ready,” he said. “What do we do first?”

  “First,” I looked around for our waiter, “We pay our bill and get out of here.”

  “Already taken care of.” He shrugged when he noticed my look of surprise. “You’re doing me a favor. The least I could do was pay for drinks.”

  “See, learning already,” I said, only half-joking. He really was a lot more attractive and appealing than he gave himself credit for. His self-confidence just needed a boost, and I couldn’t fault him for that. After so many years of shitty relationships, he’d started to believe that he wasn’t worthy of a good one. It was definitely a feeling I could relate to.

  I was just too stubborn to believe it.

  We made our way out of the restaurant and onto Ocean Drive. It was one of my favorite places, especially in the evening, when the neon lights bathed all of the old art deco buildings in vibrant shades of blue and pink and yellow. It was the perfect spot for a date. Or a practice date.

  “Lesson one,” I said, taking his hand, “is a little bit of PDA.”

  “PDA?”

  “You know, public display of affection. When you’re out with a woman, she wants to feel the romance. It’s okay to let the world know you’re a couple. So you hold hands, you get close.”

  To emphasize my point, I leaned into him as we walked. I was a little surprised at how perfectly my body fit against his, and how nice it felt when he put his arm around me and pulled me even closer. It was a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time, and one I could definitely get used to.

  We got to the corner and stopped. There were people all around us, and music and laughter spilled out of the sidewalk cafes and the cars slowly driving by, but I barely noticed any of it. With Miguel next to me and the endless expanse of sandy beach and bright blue ocean in the distance, it was paradise.

  I looked up at him. “See, it’s nice, right?”

  He nodded and smiled down at me. “Very nice.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the view, or our surroundings, or the way my body was pressed against his. Maybe, like me, he was enjoying all of it.

  “Thank you for tonight,” he said, turning his body to stand in front of me.

  He had both hands around my waist and I felt so safe, so secure, so damn nice that I never wanted the moment to end.

  I wanted to tell him that it had been just as enjoyable for me, that I was really glad we met, that I hoped we could spend more time together soon. But as my lips parted and I tried to speak, the only thing I could say was, “Kiss me.”

  Then his lips met mine, and nothing else mattered. The people, the lights, and the noise all faded to the background as his hands roamed up and down my back and my body melted against his.

  Like everything else about him, the kiss was sweet and simple, not overpowering, not too much. It was gentle, and caring, and… perfect.

  When it was over and he was smiling down at me again, I knew without a doubt that there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

  And that if I wasn’t careful, I was going to seriously complicate everything.

  Miguel

  It had been twelve hours since I’d said good night to Bianca, and I still hadn’t stopped smiling. Even once I’d arrived at work, it felt as though I was walking through a dream, like she might be waiting for me around the corner, or in my office, ready to walk hand-in-hand again.

  Ready to kiss me again.

  I didn’t even care that I’d been walking around all morning like a grinning fool — not even when three different people stopped me to ask what had made me so happy on a Wednesday morning. I couldn’t have explained it, even if I’d wanted to. And they probably wouldn’t have understood, anyway.

  It was eight thirty, and I was sitting in the conference room, waiting for the one person on the planet who could have potentially made the smile slip from my face.

  He was late, of course, leaving me sitting and waiting with one of the senior partners from my firm in the large, otherwise empty room.

  “Do you think he’s going to make it?” Terri asked, glancing at her watch.

  I had to fight back a smirk. “It’s still pretty early for him, I’d guess. I’ll give him a few more minutes before I start making phone calls, though.”

  She nodded. “If it wasn’t Desmond Bond—”

  “I know, believe me.”

  If it wasn’t Desmond Bond, she wouldn’t have been waiting in that conference room with me in the first place. Terri Watts wasn’t a woman who waited for anyone.

  But we all made exceptions for the Miami Heat’s star player. He was simply worth too much to pretend otherwise, and he knew it.

  Which was why, when he strolled in through the door a full forty minutes late, grinning and talking loudly on his phone, we both stood up and smiled and pretended like we had absolutely nothing better to do than wait.

  I scanned the faces of his entourage. A few of them I recognized — his publicist, his lawyer, his personal assistant — but there were three others that I hadn’t seen before. His assistant’s assistant, perhaps, or maybe the person who held his phone and counted his money. He was no doubt wealthy enough to afford a few pointless groupies.

  From the way his half of the conversation was going, it was clear he was talking to a woman — no surprise, since he’d been seen with a new model or pseudo-celebrity or wanna-be-Mrs. Bond ever since he’d ended his engagement with Bianca a few months ago.

  At the time, I hadn’t thought much about it — his private life was certainly none of my concern, after all. Now, though, having spent a little bit of time with Bianca, I wondered how he could have given her up so easily.

  He clearly hadn’t realized what he had in her.

  “Alright, baby,” he said. “Later.”

  Desmond blew a kiss into the phone and I had to swallow hard to avoid throwing up on the faux-wood conference table. Really? That’s what women wanted?

  He turned to one of his groupies. “Dinner with Staci, Thursday night.”

  The other man frowned and shook his head. “You’ve already got dinner with Monica that night. Should I call her and cancel?”

  “Shit. No, I’ll think of something.” Then, with a grin that only added to my nausea, he added, “Maybe I’ll just have to eat dinner twice on Thursday.”

  Oh my God. Was this guy for real?

  My brain struggled to figure out what Bianca had ever seen in him. Sure, that much money and fame might make up for a lot of shortcomings, but she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who was just interested in material things. I might not know her very well, but I could tell that she was an independent thinker and ambitious in her own right.

  Then again, maybe that’s why things hadn’t worked out between the
m.

  Desmond’s phone rang, pulling me from my thoughts. I belatedly realized that I’d been scowling, and took a deep breath.

  Not my problem. Not my concern.

  He glanced at the woman on his right, who had taken possession of his phone. Maybe he really did have someone there just to keep track of his calls. “Who is it?”

  “Cheri McAllister.”

  “Who?”

  “From the party last Saturday,” the other man chimed in, helpfully. “The blonde.”

  Desmond shrugged. “She’ll have to call back.” He motioned for his publicist and leaned across the table. “What do you think the press would say if I was seen out with Bianca again? These other girls are all the same. I got good press when I was with her, though.”

  I’m not sure what the publicist’s response was. The only thing I could hear was the blood rushing to my head, hammering in my temples so loudly that I had to remove myself from the situation before I did something stupid.

  “You’ll have to excuse me,” I said, standing up and walking out of the room without waiting for a reply, and without giving one single shit that the room full of people might have to wait on me for a few minutes.

  Maybe Desmond can take another phone call or set up another dinner date.

  I hurried from the conference room to the nearby restroom and bent over the sink. I took a deep breath and splashed a little water on my face before I stood up straight again and looked into the mirror.

  What. The. Fuck.

  It wasn’t like me to be jealous — in fact, it was such a strange feeling that it had frightened me a little. But there was no denying that as soon as Bianca’s name had left Desmond’s mouth, I wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and punch him in the face.

  It was a dangerous position for me to be in — not only because I didn’t legitimately have any claim over who Bianca spent her time with, but because Desmond was a client. A damned important one, too. If I fucked things up with either of them, there would be consequences.

  I had to get it together.

  Even though I honestly didn’t give a shit about Desmond Bond, I had to play nice. To pretend like he wasn’t a complete scumbag. And even though I wanted nothing more than to have a chance with Bianca, I knew damn good and well that she was out of my league.

  She was only doing me a favor, just like I was doing her a favor with her business. But that kiss…

  I smiled again at the memory. Even dealing Desmond Bond hadn’t made that amazing feeling go away completely.

  So with that in mind, I was going to have to watch my step. I’d still try to spend as much time with Bianca as possible, but I’d have to try and keep my feelings in check. The last thing I wanted to do was to run her off by trying to turn our time together into something it wasn’t.

  I’d also have to swallow my pride and my feelings for long enough to deal with Desmond. Business was business, and I couldn’t let a relationship that only existed in my head get in the way of multi-million dollar contracts.

  With my mind made up, I walked back into the conference room feeling much more calm and collected than I’d been when I’d left. Desmond didn’t even notice—he was on the phone again. Why wouldn’t he be? There were only a half-dozen people anxiously waiting to do his bidding.

  Terri gave me a hard look as I sat back down. She turned her head slightly away from Desmond and murmured from the corner of her mouth, “Everything okay?”

  I nodded and gave a smile that I hoped was more convincing than it felt.

  “Everything is great.”

  Somehow, I made it through the rest of the day. Mostly because I knew I had an excuse to call Bianca. A couple of potential investors had asked for additional financial statements from her, and I knew she’d be eager to get it taken care of.

  What I hadn’t expected, however, was for her to suggest that she might bring them over to my house — and that we might continue our lessons while she was there.

  She’d told me that women like men who have their own sense of style and men who could cook. I was a little skeptical of my sense of style, but cooking?

  That was a skill I had in spades.

  I usually didn’t have an audience for my cooking, though. I had spent the couple of hours from the time I got home until the time she was supposed to arrive frantically preparing something that I hoped would impress her, and had to make two emergency trips to the nearby grocery store.

  But when she rang my doorbell at seven o’clock, my worries and my nerves took a backseat to my hormones.

  “You’re right on time,” I said, grinning as I stood aside so she could come in.

  As she walked past me, I let my eyes drink in every detail. She wore a little red dress, flirty, eye-catching, but just enough to avoid being too much for an appointment like this.

  Damn. How did she always manage to look so good? Always completely put together. Always… perfect.

  “I try.” She winked. “I can’t stand to be running late, even if it’s something casual.”

  “Oh, I’m exactly the same way.”

  My mind immediately went to Desmond and how nonchalant he was about wasting other people’s time, but I figured that was a topic that was best avoided, for her sake as much as my own. And besides, I was sure she was well aware of that particular character trait.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” I said. “The lasagna will be coming out of the oven any minute, but we’ve got salad until then. Oh, and wine, of course. I hope you like Rinaldi?”

  “Everything sounds — and smells — amazing. And your house is beautiful. Not really what I expected.”

  I laughed. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment, thanks.”

  “Oh, sorry,” she said, blushing as she pulled up a stool to the kitchen island. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just…”

  “I hired an interior designer when I bought the place,” I said with a smile, saving her from the moment of awkwardness. “I simply don’t have the time to figure out colors and patterns and… whatever. Plus, I think the guy I hired did a better job than I could’ve ever done.”

  “That makes sense. Although I was prepared to be surprised. You do seem to have a good sense of style.”

  “Hopefully you can help me improve that,” I said, handing her a chilled bowl brimming with salad. “But for now, let’s eat.”

  “I definitely don’t need to help you improve in the kitchen. If anything, maybe you can give me some pointers. I’m so bad I can burn ice.”

  “Ice? Now that’s a new one.” I laughed again. “I’ll consider that a fair trade.”

  The conversation — and the wine — flowed so easily that I quickly lost track of the time, and when we had finally made it through the main course, I was feeling more relaxed than I ever had with a date. Or… whatever we were doing, if not exactly a date.

  After dinner, we moved to the living room, and even though we mentioned turning on the TV, it never happened. I was too mesmerized by her words and her eyes and every other amazingly beautiful detail to even notice anything else. And even though I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, it really seemed like she was interested in the things I had to say, as well.

  “I hope you saved room for dessert,” I said, once we were settled next to each other on the couch.

  “Oh my God, you made dessert, too?” Her eyes were wide and her voice was incredulous, and for a moment, I was tempted to take all the credit.

  “Well, I can’t exactly say I made it… but I did pick it out at the bakery.”

  “I’m sure it’s delicious, but…” She moved closer and placed a hand on my thigh. “Maybe we can wait just a little while?”

  My gaze traveled up from her hand until it reached her face, and my cock throbbed when I saw the heat in her eyes. Just knowing that look was meant for me, that it wasn’t a coincidence or an accident, but that this beautiful woman wanted me… it was nearly enough to make me come undone.

  “Miguel�
�”

  Her face was upturned, her lips parted, and when she said my name in that light, breathless tone, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

  I leaned in, capturing her mouth with mine. I had to taste her, to touch her, and I didn’t have the patience to pretend like it was anything else. I wanted her. Needed her.

  The first time we’d kissed, she’d been mostly passive, but this time was different. This time, she was pulling me closer, running her hands down my back as she caressed my tongue with hers. And when I leaned in further and laid her back on the couch, the loud, needy moan that escaped from her throat nearly drove me insane.

  And then, as if a switch had been flipped, her body tensed up beneath me. I didn’t know what had gone wrong, but I immediately backed off.

  I leaned back and gave her some room as I tried to subtly readjust myself. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, I’m good. Sorry.”

  She smiled, but for the first time since I’d met her, that smile didn’t reach her eyes. There was a distance between us that I hadn’t felt before, and even though it was confusing as hell, I didn’t want to ask too many questions. She certainly didn’t owe me an explanation.

  “Don’t apologize,” I said. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I probably should have kept the kiss a little more, um… tame.”

  “No, it’s not that. The kiss was good. Really good. I don’t know what’s wrong with me right now, but—”

  “Nothing,” I said, cutting her off. “Nothing is wrong with you. You’re perfect. But I think we should probably call it a night.”

  I tried to keep it lighthearted, but there was a sadness in her eyes that made me want to just pull her close and hold her. That was probably not the best idea under the circumstances, though. Even if I was inclined to believe that whatever had happened hadn’t been totally my fault, I still didn’t want to push the issue.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. Sorry. It’s been a really nice night. I didn’t mean to ruin it with my… whatever.”

  “No, you didn’t ruin anything.” I smiled, and hoped that she could tell I was sincere. “I’m really glad you came over tonight. Maybe we can talk again sometime soon.”