Mid Life Love

by Whitney Gracia Williams

  “Mr. Statham...” Greg cleared his throat, but Jonathan held me even tighter and kept kissing me.

  “Mr. Statham? Mr. Statham!” Greg’s voice was firmer, making Jonathan finally pull away.

  “Yes, Greg?” He grinned at me.

  “You have a list of other people to take pictures with and speak to tonight. If you would like, I can escort Miss—”

  “No, I’ll take care of it.” He kissed me one more time and walked over to the people on the other side of the stage.

  I could only hear fragments of what he was saying—“First thing tomorrow...” “I need to address this now...” “Yes, I’ll sign whatever you want tomorrow...” “I’ll donate double...” “Thank you so much...”

  The orchestra began to play on the back stage—one of the organizers had frantically run back there once I kissed him, and the crowd slowly diverted their attention from us to the dance floor.

  I saw him walk over to Stacy and say a few words, and then I felt Damien grabbing my hand.

  “Is this some type of joke, Claire?” His eyes hardened. “I bring you here and you fuck my competition?”

  “What?”

  “Is that what you’ve been doing during the day while I’ve been at meetings? Sleeping with Jonathan Statham behind my back?” He sounded more angry than hurt. “Do you know how what you just did makes me look? Did you even think about that?”

  “Damien, I’m sorry you had to find out this way but...I’m in love with Jonathan and I have been for a while now...I’m sorry for agreeing to date you when I wasn’t over him. I really do mean—”

  “This is why I only date younger women. I should’ve known that someone like you with all your baggage—”

  “Excuse me?” Jonathan wrapped his arm around my waist. “Is there a problem here, Damien?”

  “No...” Damien seemed to wither a bit.

  “Are you sure?” Jonathan’s tone was threatening. I’d never heard him this heated before. “Is there something you and I need to discuss outside? It can be arranged...”

  “Fuck you, Jonathan.” Damien narrowed his eyes at me. “And fuck you too, Claire.” He said something else under his breath as he walked away.

  “See? I wasn’t lying to you.” Jonathan said. “He wasn’t right for you at all...” He kissed my hair and led me off the stage and out of the ballroom. As we walked towards the elevators, he kept looking down and smiling at me.

  I wanted to ask what he was smiling about, but I was happy simply seeing him smile again—for whatever reason it was.

  We rode up to his floor in silence, staring at one another while we held hands, communicating with our eyes.

  I wanted him to touch me again, to kiss me again, but it seemed like he was content simply holding back.

  “Mr. Statham, Miss Gracen,” the bellman said once we arrived. “Have a great evening.”

  “Thank you,” we said in unison.

  I followed him to his suite and he pulled me inside, pushing me against the wall as soon as the door shut. “I can’t believe you did that...That was quite shocking...” He pulled a clip out of my hair and kissed my neck.

  “And why is that?” I moaned as he grazed my skin with his teeth.

  “The Claire Gracen I know would never run on stage and kiss me like that, especially not with everyone watching...”

  “The Jonathan Statham I know wouldn’t be analyzing anything that Claire Gracen does.”

  “That kiss doesn’t excuse you leaving me for three months.” He removed another clip. “I’m still very angry with you...”

  “I love you too.”

  He grinned as he looked into my eyes. “Say it again.”

  “I don’t feel like it right now. I need to take off my dress first, and then I’ll need to think about repeating it.”

  “Are you being difficult with me on purpose, Claire?” He reached behind me and brushed his fingers against the zipper of my dress. “Say. It. Again.”

  “After I take my dress off.”

  “Your dress isn’t coming off.” He unbuckled his pants and pressed his erection against my thigh.

  “Why not?”

  He reached underneath my dress and felt around for my panties, smiling when he didn’t find any. “Because I’m going to make love to you while you’re wearing it, and I’m not going to stop until it falls off.” He traced my jawline with his fingertips. “And because it always takes you half an hour to get undressed, and I’ve waited long enough.” He picked me up and carried me into the bedroom, gently laying me on the bed.

  He slid his shirt over his head and stepped out of his pants. Then he slowly moved on top of me. “Now, you know how I feel about repeating myself. That hasn’t changed since you left me, so I’m going to give you one last chance to—”

  “I love you, Jonathan.”

  He smiled as he bent down and gently traced my lips with his tongue. “I love you too, Claire.”

  I opened my eyes and smiled at Jonathan. I was curled up against him in a huge Jacuzzi, relaxing as his hands lathered shampoo into my hair.

  I was sure we’d broken the world record for the number of times we’d had sex tonight, and if we hadn’t, I was sure that we would break it tomorrow.

  I sighed as he poured a wooden ladle over my head to rinse out my hair. He was careful not to let the suds fall anywhere near my eyes, scooping just enough water that the soap fell down my back.

  “I need you to promise me something, Claire.” He kissed the back of my neck.

  “What is it?”

  “That you’ll never leave me again. Once was more than enough.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good...” He set the ladle on the ledge. “Because if you go back on your word and even attempt to leave me again, I guarantee I won’t let you stay away for three fucking months. You’ll be lucky if you get away for three minutes.”

  “Have I ever told you how romantic you are?”

  “It’s part of my appeal.”

  I smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Always.”

  “Are you and your mother okay now?”

  He stilled. “We haven’t been with each other in forever and you care about the person who pulled us apart?”

  I nodded.

  “We’re okay,” he said, sighing. “I’m paying for her to get one on one counseling and we see each other once a week over lunch. Maybe with time we’ll do more, but that’s all I can handle right now. I don’t appreciate the way she treated you, and it’ll take me a while to get over that.”

  My heart swelled. “I was just wondering...”

  “I really would’ve believed you.” He gripped my hips and swiveled me around so I was facing him, straddling his lap. “You should’ve told me and all this never would’ve happened.”

  “I know...”

  “Don’t keep anything like that from me again. We’re not supposed to have boundaries, remember?” He kissed my lips and I nodded.

  He picked up a loofah from the side of the tub and brushed it against my arms. He massaged my wrists and brought my right hand up to his face.

  “How did this happen?” He circled a purple bruise with his thumb.

  “I was running on the bridge one night and I slipped over some glass on the sidewalk. I used my wrist to brace the fall and nearly broke it on the way down. I had cuts everywhere.”

  His jaw tensed. “When was this?”

  “It was three or four weeks ago. Strangest thing though: As soon as I fell, these two guys came out of nowhere and bandaged all my cuts up. They even carried me back to my car...They said they were EMTs out on a late night jog and always carried their backpacks just in case something like that happened...Crazy coincidence, huh?”

  “Extremely crazy.” The muscles in his face relaxed and he washed me until I was clean. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. I reached over to grab another loofah and saw a thick ring band on the ledge. It was silver and it h
ad the engravings of all the same charms I had in the necklace he’d given me—even the white and red flags. The only difference was that the entwined “M” and “L” were repeated twice and our names were etched in tiny cursive within each letter.

  “You had a ring made to match my charm necklace?”

  He nodded. “I was going to show it to you the day you left me...I wanted us to open our boxes together.”

  “Hmmm.” I ran the loofah against his chest. “What do the “M” and the “L” stand for?”

  “I never said anything about that to you before?”

  “No...” I shook my head.

  “Well, guess.”

  “My love?”

  “No.” He kissed my shoulder.

  “Mid-life?”

  “No.”

  “Mid-life love?”

  “Mid-life love?” He raised his eyebrow. “You think I would honestly give you something that stood for that?”

  “No, but...” I shrugged. I couldn’t think of anything else. “Tell me what it means then...”

  He sighed and took the loofah away from me. He pulled me against his chest and kissed my hair, running his fingertips against my lips. “My last.”

  The End

  Wasted Love Excerpt

  ***subject to change before publication***

  “Don’t get married at eighteen, Autumn...You’ll regret it...”—My mother, six years ago.

  Chapter 1

  Autumn

  I don’t love my husband—not anymore, anyway. Our flame burnt out a long time ago, and no matter how many times I try to convince myself that it’ll come back, that one day I’ll feel those magic sparks between us again, nothing happens.

  I married him when I was eighteen years old—when I was young, dumb, and thought I knew everything. I was so wrapped up in the whole “But mom, I love him!” and “He’s the only person I can discuss my deep, dark past with!” that I didn’t realize what I was doing. (By the way, having strict parents who enforce a midnight curfew hardly equates to having a “deep, dark past.”)

  I don’t even think I’m attracted to my husband anymore.

  As of matter of fact, he’s on top of me right now, straddling me—thrusting in and out of me, and the only thing I can think about is whether or not I turned off our coffeemaker.

  I think I hit the switch...Did I hit the switch?

  “You like that baby?” he asks, bringing his lips close to mine. “You like the way this feels?”

  “Oh yeahhh.” I moan.

  Wait. Didn’t I say “Oh yeahhhh” ten seconds ago? Damnit... “Oh, baby.” Say “Oh, baby” next...

  “Autumnnn.”

  “Ohhh babyyy...” I run my hands across his back, thinking that I really didn’t turn off that coffeemaker.

  He speeds up his thrusts, gripping my breasts like he’s attempting to yank them off my body. He’s groaning ferociously now, making some type of disturbing animal sound. (It’s a cross between a wounded bear and a dying tiger.)

  “Fuckkkk, Autumnnnn.” He pants. “Can you feel me baby? I’m about to—”

  “Yessss.” I freeze my eyeballs to their sockets. “I’m almost there...” And with that, I moan even louder—sucking in breaths, shaking my legs, faking yet another orgasm.

  I should start keeping count...

  He collapses on top of me, his chest pressed against my breasts, and then he whispers, “I love you, Autumn.”

  I say it back because I always say it back, because that coffee maker is bothering the hell out of me and I need an excuse to get up.

  “That was amazing.” I rub his back with my palms. “Let me go make breakfast. You want waffles?”

  “Sure, sweetie.” He lifts his head up and kisses me one more time. Then he rolls over, allowing me to get out of bed.

  I wrap myself in a robe and head into the kitchen. As soon as I hit the lights, I look over at the counter.

  I didn’t turn it off...I knew it!

  I pull out a box of waffle mix and a package of bacon. Usually, Kyle offers to make breakfast after sex, but I need a moment alone to think today.

  I need a fucking break.

  ***

  Dear Reader,

  I would let you read more of “Wasted Love” right now, but...You. Are. Not. Ready!

  I’ll release it to you as fast as I can.

  Love,

  Whit’

  ***

  Acknowledgments:

  Okay, where do I even start with this one? Let me first say that this book would’ve never been possible without the most AMAZING beta readers in the world!

  Tamisha Joiner, THANK YOU so much for encouraging me to change this from a novella to a full length novel! (I looked back at the first few drafts and cringed...Jonathan Statham was so NOT sexy then lol) Most importantly, thank you for encouraging me to take my time and put out the best book possible for my amazing readers. I don’t know how I would’ve done any of this without you—the back and forth calls, the text messages, my incessant ramblings about nothing at all. This book is as much mine as it is yours—THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! (Now that we don’t have fifty million email threads going on about “MLL,” it’s time to focus all of the attention on your upcoming wedding! :-)... Can’t wait!)

  Tiffany Downs, you’re WONDERFUL. Point blank. Period. I can’t count how many times we had to restart that epic “Mid Life Love First Six” thread. And OMG, I just realized that you were reading A LOT of this between planning the last details of your wedding and becoming a newlywed! (That is definitely love...) I can’t say THANK YOU enough for putting up with me and my rants, and being the great balance between me and Miss ‘I-get-too-involved-with-the-characters’ Tamisha. LOL. Your suggestions, critiques (even the overly “mushy” ones), and willingness to listen to me say the same thing over and over again really helped me :-) (Now, go find me a Jonathan Statham in real life...)

  Nadira Williams, I want you to know that I have the following texts saved in my phone: “Seriously though, I need that fucking book in my life!” and “It’s so good! Don’t be worried!” I can’t thank you enough for reading it through and through, demanding more chapters, and making the necessary corrections for me. You know, I would take this opportunity to restart the debate about who is smarter between the two of us, but I won’t...LOL. I appreciate you encouraging me to stay strong when I needed it, and to stop focusing on what other people were doing. “Gosh, I’m so fucking excited for this book!”—You literally just texted me that a few seconds ago... THANK YOU!!!

  Alonna Grigsby, your editing comments made me laugh out loud and I’ve saved them all to my laptop: “I woke up in a new Bugatti.” “Wait...This man might be crazy...” “Oh...This man IS crazy!!!” “Wait a minute...They’re not getting married?!” Thank you for reading this once you were done with grad classes and helping me make certain parts more realistic. Does this book count as one of our summer reading books? I really think it should! :-)

  Antoine Neal, thanks for reading this “GIRL PORN, GIRL PORN” (as you would say) and helping me out with the characters’ conversations in the beginning...You were right... “Hot mess” would not have worked and Jonathan’s hair does not have the ability to change colors between scenes lol THANK YOU :-)

  Jennifer Williams, you’re still the best sister in the world and always will be. I thank you for believing in everything I write. [“They didn’t ‘believesss’ in the book!” :-)]

  Jay Williams and William Ray Edwards II—Thank you for respecting “my zone” and interrupting it on some nights with random dances and YouTube videos.

  To my parents....I hope you only bought this book and aren’t reading it because that would be AWKWARD—I mean, I’m fine with you reading the Jilted Bride Series, but this? Put it down!

  To my friends that I admire from afar: Aster Teclay, Ashley Warren, Tanisha Hill, Sherbrina Shepherd, Christina Royster, Courtney Johnson, Angelica Harris, Vince Cunningham, and Karleic Ellison.

  To f
ellow Memphian Justin Timberlake, Thank you for releasing The 20/20 Experience just in time—It made my writing flow so much better! (Please perform “Spaceship Coupe” and “Strawberry Bubblegum” when you come home in November!!!)

  To Colleen Hoover, Jamie McGuire, Abbi Glines, Arianne Richmonde, Theresa Ragan, Mimi Strong, Shanora Williams, Abria Mattina, and many more indie authors whom I admire and look up to. I stalk you all religiously and learn more and more from you every day...Yes, I’m borderline creepy, but whatevs :-)

  To every book blogger, Goodreads reader, and early reviewer who took a chance on me and gave me a review (good or bad) THANK YOU for your generosity and your time :-)

  AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, THANK YOU, INCREDIBLE READER for reading this book all the way to the end :-).

  Dear Incredible Reader,

  Thank you so much for taking time out of your life to read this book! I hope you were thoroughly entertained and enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  If you have any extra time, PLEASE leave a review on amazon.com, B&N.com, goodreads.com, OR send me an email (whitgracia@gmail.com) so I can personally thank you :-) If you hated it, well....keep that shit to yourself! LOL (Just kidding. Feel free to let me know how I can improve next time!)

  I’m forever grateful for you and your time, and I hope to be re-invited to your bookshelf with my next release.

  Love,

  Whitney Gracia Williams

  More works by Whitney Gracia Williams:

  Reckless Love (2014)

  Wasted Love (Winter 2013-2014)

  Mid-Life Love (June 2013)

  Final Take: A Romantic Comedy (JBS) (Summer 2013)

  Take Three: A Romantic Comedy (JBS) (December 2012)

  Take Two: A Romantic Comedy (JBS) (September 2012)

  Captain of My Soul: A Memoir (July 2009)

  You can keep up with Whitney and the travels of her non-matching socks at http://www.whitneygracia.com

  To be a part of the mailing list and be notified of release dates and special offers, email whitgracia@gmail.com with “Mailing List” in the subject heading.