The DILF: Experience Counts: A May-December Romance (Temperance Falls Book 2)

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The DILF: Experience Counts: A May-December Romance (Temperance Falls Book 2) Page 6

by London Hale


  Bastard. “Sure,” I choked out, my anger hot under my skin. “Yes. No problem.”

  But it was a problem, and as Clark left the office—probably heading home for the night—my guilt at leaving Genesis alone so much only multiplied. I wanted to spend time with her, to talk to her. I wanted to get to know her as a person and give her a chance to get to know me. We’d spent our mornings and nights naked, our needs insatiable, but I wanted more than a physical relationship with her. I wanted every part of her.

  But my job stood in the way.

  Just as I was sitting down to look over the McIntyre documents for the thousandth time, my phone rang. Genesis, of course.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey,” she said, her voice happy. Fuck. “We’re going to be late for our reservations at Nonno Pino’s if you don’t hurry home. Or did you need to meet me there?”

  I sighed, staring at the red folder on my desk. My shoulders were stiff with the stress of trying to balance my desire to go home and my need to accomplish my work. I could only hope she’d understand. “I’ve got bad news.”

  “Brandon. Are you serious?”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s this McIntyre deal.”

  “It’s always a deal, isn’t it? You forget I’ve been around for a long time. I’ve heard all about your deals over the years—how they made you miss this and that. It’s a goddamn miracle you made it to Evie’s graduation party.”

  I closed my eyes, trying hard not to feel like both the worst father and lover on the planet. Trying and failing. “I’m sorry.”

  Her laugh held no humor, no light. She was mad. “Getting really damn sick of hearing that. It’s been less than a week, and this is the fourth time you’ve canceled on me because of some shit at work. Usually, when people say they’re sorry, they try to make amends for it and actually change.”

  I closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead with my free hand. Staring out the window at the night sky over the water. “It’s just an hour or so. Let me get through with this contract review, and I’ll be home. I can…I don’t know. Maybe I can cook for us.” Shit. I’d probably need to stop at the grocery store.

  But Genesis didn’t seem impressed by my offer. She took a deep breath, the static of her exhale making me wince. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  And then she was gone.

  I must have stared at that dark screen for ten minutes, must have mulled over my wants versus my needs versus my responsibilities even longer. In the end, only one could win.

  I’d spent almost twenty years giving everything I could to Wilkinson Properties. I’d climbed through every hoop, made the Wilkinson family more money than any person could possibly need in a lifetime. I had sacrificed everything for them.

  They could survive one night without me closing a deal.

  I grabbed the McIntyre Steel folder and shoved it into my briefcase before digging out my keys. I may have fucked up date night, but there had to be a way to rescue it. Had to be a way to make things up to my beautiful girl.

  There had to be a way to make her smile.

  Being a friend of Evie’s for as long as I’d been, I was no stranger to Brandon’s excuses. No stranger to the empty house or the so sorry I can’t make it calls.

  I’d just never before been such a front row participant.

  Too pissed to stay in the dress I made a special trip to the apartment to grab for tonight, I stripped it from my body, changing instead to boy shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. I swept back my freshly done hair, piling the mass on top of my head before scrubbing my face free of makeup. Then I trekked downstairs, raided the freezer for the emergency ice cream stash Evie kept there, and resigned myself to spending the night with a pint of Chunky Monkey and season six of Gilmore Girls.

  That was where Brandon found me one and a half episodes later, the empty ice cream carton discarded on the end table. He stood at the edge of the family room, as if he was waiting for me to welcome him inside. He’d be waiting a long damn time because I refused to even look at him. I knew if I did, I’d forgive him. Like usual.

  It’d only been a week, but he’d canceled on me more than he’d shown up. I didn’t know what was going on between us, but from the way he talked, how he looked at me, it felt like we were something more than just a fling. And if that was the case, he needed to learn really damn early that I wasn’t going to take the back seat—not to a job.

  “Gen.”

  I ignored him, knowing full well how childish of me it was to do so. Didn’t matter. I’d been looking forward to this night out…I needed it. Earlier in the day, I’d gotten the report that my mom was doing so well in her rehab they thought she’d be able to be released early.

  What had originated as a celebratory meal stemming from news of my mom had quickly morphed into something different…something more. Brandon had made reservations at the nicest restaurant on the island instead of taking me to the diner like I’d anticipated. Maybe I’d read too much into it, thinking it’d been him taking a sort of public stance on us.

  Turned out it didn’t matter how much I read into it. Instead of going out—to celebrate my mom’s imminent release, or whatever was between Brandon and me, or both—he’d left me alone. Again.

  Interrupting my thoughts, he heaved a sigh and stepped into the family room, the rustling of paper and plastic moving along with him. And then he stood in front of me, several bags dangling from his fingertips, the unmistakable scents of Chinese wafting up from them. His dress shirt was untucked, tie loose around his neck, top two buttons undone. Looking hot as sin. I didn’t know if it was the scent of the food or him that made my mouth water.

  Willing myself not to get sucked into him like I always did, I said, “Do you mind?” Making a shooing motion with my hand, I looked around him, pretending my focus was on the TV and not the DILF in front of me.

  “Genesis.”

  It took everything in me not to respond to his use of my full name, but I persevered. After a couple silent moments, he blew out a breath and stepped to the side. Instead of walking away like I thought he would, he began unloading the bags, right there on his fancy wood coffee table. By the time he was done, ten different containers sat opened, the aromas of kung pao chicken and chow mein overwhelming me. There was way too much for us to possibly eat, even if it was our first meal in three days.

  Once everything was laid out, he took a seat on the coffee table, directly in my line of vision. He leaned toward me, elbows braced on his spread knees and hands clasped between them. “I’m an asshole—an overworked, overscheduled asshole. I know that. You know that.” He reached out, cuffing his hand around my bare ankle, his thumb brushing against my skin. “I’m sorry. I’m so used to focusing solely on my work that I didn’t weigh your emotions as highly as I should have. It was a mistake.”

  I could admit I hadn’t had much experience with this kind of thing. Being in a relationship—was that what we were doing?—was something altogether new to me, and therefore, apologies from my partner were something I hadn’t really had to deal with. But his seemed sincere. Seemed like it was more than just words.

  After a few more seconds of silence, he said, “Baby…talk to me. Please.” His voice was low, imploring, and regret and worry flashed plainly across his face.

  It was the regret that got me.

  “This is a waste.” I gestured to the spread on the table. “We can’t eat this much food.”

  He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I wasn’t sure what you liked. You told Evie once that egg drop soup was disgusting, but that was all I could remember.”

  “It is disgusting. It looks like someone came in a pot of chicken broth.” I scrunched up my nose. “If I wanted jizz in my mouth, I’d go to the source.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” A small, sheepish grin curved up the corners of his mouth.

  I hummed, raising an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

  Looking serious again, he leaned
closer, squeezing my ankle. “Forgive me? I promise to cut back at work and pay more attention to you. To us.”

  I reached out, brushing the hair back from his face. Traced the shadows under his eyes. Exhaustion blanketed him. His working so much was about more than us. He was going to work himself to death if he didn’t get a handle on it.

  Not wanting to waste any more time fighting, I said, “I guess it depends on if you got me any General Tso’s.”

  He grinned, then sat back and twisted, reaching behind him. Once he had what he needed, he presented me with chopsticks and a container of my favorite dish. “Guess I lucked out.”

  I took it from him and grabbed a bite with my chopsticks. “Yeah, you totally would’ve stayed in the dog house if you’d gotten me something lame like sweet and sour chicken.”

  “I got that, too.”

  “From the looks of it, you got one of everything.”

  He shrugged, not seeming a bit sorry. “Like I said, I didn’t know what you liked.” Glancing over at my empty ice cream container, he raised a brow. “And I was pretty sure what was on your menu for tonight.”

  “Don’t be a snob. Ice cream is a perfectly acceptable meal replacement.”

  “Not tonight, it’s not. I needed you to have more sustenance than sugar and cream. Especially for all the makeup sex we’re gonna have later.”

  “Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  He pulled an egg roll from a container, dipped it in sweet and sour sauce, and held his hand under it as he brought it to my lips, waiting for me to open. I obliged and took a bite, letting him feed me. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but he’d been right—ice cream hadn’t done shit for my hunger.

  Wiping under the curve of my lip, he asked, “Am I wrong?”

  No. He wasn’t.

  Instead of saying that, I lifted a shoulder and plucked another bite from my carton. “I don’t know…what’s your fortune say, Mr. Know-It-All?”

  With a quirk of his brow, he grabbed one of the fortune cookies, ripping open the packaging and breaking apart the cookie. “Happiness isn’t an outside job, it’s an inside job.” He shot me a devilish grin, pinning me with eyes darkened with want. “I’m ready to do all the inside work you can give me if it makes you happy. Deep, wet, inside work.”

  Yeah, he was definitely getting some tonight. Fight be damned.

  Spending another week in the heaven that was waking up with Gen, fucking her senseless before breakfast, working eight-hour days, hurrying home so I could chase her around the house all night, and giving her multiple orgasms, had sadly caught up with me. It was Saturday, and I’d already been at work for ten hours. The sun was still shining outside, but I was stuck in my office going over files and signing off on the updates my team had made.

  I really wanted to be home with Gen.

  Eighteen years of holding back, of the absolute bare minimum of feminine attention, had left me starved for it. And the fact that the person giving me the attention was my hot-as-fuck Genesis only made it worse. I craved her every minute of every day. Not just for her body, but for her laugh and smiles, her personality. Her.

  I lived for the moments when we could finally settle down enough to be calm. We’d lie on the couch snuggled up together, and she’d tell me about her day or I’d tell her about mine. We’d talk about our future, our plans, the latest television show, random shit…anything and everything. It was the best kind of bliss. If only I didn’t have to work so hard and spend so many hours away from her. I’d promised her I’d try harder to be home, but with the way Clark kept throwing potential clients my way…well, that was going to be more difficult than I’d hoped.

  I organized a stack of contracts I needed to sign once the notary was in on Monday. The idea of popping in on Sunday while Genesis was working to finalize a few loose ends was just slipping through my mind when I heard a click from outside my office. I looked up to see the woman of the hour, the one who owned my heart and my mind, standing in the doorway.

  “What are you doing here, baby?” I stood, smiling. She wore some sheer leggings under a sweatshirt that hung off her shoulder and all the way past her thighs. Casually hot was what I’d call it. Sexy. And yet, too much clothing in the way. Already, I could feel the burning need to rip the fabric from her body and get my hands on her flesh.

  Gen shrugged and stepped inside, biting that plump, red lip of hers. Motherfucking red. “I got lonely. I wanted to pay you a visit.”

  “I thought you were working.”

  “I am.” Her smile turned wicked. “Seems Harper has another product she wants my opinion on. I figured I’d track you down so you can tell me what you think.”

  My cock was hard before she finished her sentence. Harper sent Gen home with lots of fun and interesting toys to try out. We already had an entire drawer of things we’d used on one another. I’d never had such an adventurous partner before, but I loved it. If the toy gave her pleasure, if I got to watch her face twist up as she came because of something I was doing, I was in. And she knew it.

  “What sort of toy is it this time?”

  “Oh, it’s not a toy.” She grinned and looked down, tugging the hem of her sweatshirt until it rose above her hips.

  “Jesus, fuck.” I fell back into my chair as she turned the corner of my desk, my eyes locked on lace and straps and skin. The leggings weren’t really leggings—they were thigh-high stockings. Underneath that oversized sweatshirt was a black garter belt holding up the stockings and nothing else but bare pussy. My girl was naughty, and I was a very, very lucky man.

  I spread my knees and leaned forward, crooking a finger in her direction as I kept my eyes locked between her legs. “C’mere. Let me get a closer look at this.”

  She inched between my legs, still smiling, looking at me like I was the sort of man who deserved to see such a goddess in something so fucking sexy. I didn’t deserve it; not at all. But she thought I did, so I’d try. I’d try so fucking hard for her.

  I ran a finger over the strap holding up her stockings. Bows. There were motherfucking bows. “This is very nice.”

  “It’s a new line Harper’s thinking about carrying. Do you like it?”

  She pulled the sweatshirt higher, sort of prancing in a circle to give me the full show. I had to press my palm to my cock when I got the rear view. Her ass was on full display. Not a damn thing except two silky straps in my way. I couldn’t resist. I reached out, one hand going to each cheek. Squeezing them before I leaned forward and bit her. Not too hard, just enough to test. To tease. She had to like it, because she groaned before reaching back to playfully knock my face away.

  I gave that ripe, lush skin a tiny kiss before running my hands over it again. “Such a fucking perfect ass.”

  She looked over her shoulder, that seductress stare missing. Seeming almost…nervous. “She got in some new plugs, too. But I wasn’t sure—I didn’t know if—”

  “Oh hell, Gen.” I massaged her ass, then trailed my thumbs down between her thighs, teasing her pussy with light, soft strokes. “If that’s what you want, I’m in. But we don’t have to, especially not today. I can’t be patient enough to try something that new today.”

  Unable to resist a second longer, I spun her around and tossed her pretty ass up on my desk. Work be damned. Papers fell to the floor, files scattering, but I didn’t give a single fuck. My girl was here looking like pure sex in heels, and she made my mouth water. Paperwork could wait; I needed to make her scream.

  “Lie back, baby.” I unbuckled my belt and unfastened my pants, keeping my eyes on her. Gen leaned back on her elbows and spread her legs, so fucking inviting, but that wasn’t the position I wanted her in. It might not be the time to try something as new as fucking her ass, but we could certainly try out a new position.

  I grabbed her knees and held them together, dragging her ass to the edge. She yelped but didn’t resist. In fact, she did a sort of wiggle as if she liked being manhandled.

  A thought that mad
e my hands clutch at her legs a little tighter. “You came here to get fucked, didn’t you?”

  “I came here hoping you’d fuck me. I wasn’t sure if you’d be too busy…”

  “I’ll never be too busy for you. For this. I promise you that.” I kept her legs together and placed her calves against one shoulder, forcing her to twist slightly to her side. Her pussy was almost hidden in this position, the pink, swollen lips barely peeking out from her thighs. It was as if she were teasing me, even though I was the one holding her.

  “Fuck, that’s so pretty.” I grabbed my cock and dragged it through her lips, spreading her wetness with the tip. Purposely bumping her clit. “How can I work when your swollen, needy little pussy is out on display for me?”

  “That was sort of the point—I was hoping you’d stop working. I’ve gotta look out for my man, remember?” She grinned up at me, suddenly all sweet and bubblegum cute. Not that I fell for that. She’d come here without real pants, without panties, looking for my cock. She gave me that innocent grin while her bare ass was on my desk and my cock was rubbing along her pussy. Such a naughty thing, my Gen.

  “I want to fuck you, baby. Want to get you so wet, you drip on this old desk.” I slid deep, groaning, biting her calf as she swallowed me up. “I want to have memories of you here. Want them to drive me crazy.”

  “That’s only fair…I see you—us—everywhere I look at home.”

  I loved it when she called the house home. I definitely saw it as our home. “Is that what you want? You want to drive me so crazy I have to jack off right at my desk? Want me to have to come all silent and careful so no one knows how fucking obsessed I am with this pussy?”

  She groaned and grabbed her tit, squeezing as her head lolled to the side. My horny fucking girl. I loved it when she got like this, all needy and demanding. There was nothing better than seeing her lose control, especially when I was the one pushing her to do it.

  I thrust harder, practically growling as she panted and writhed beneath me. Already, she’d begun chanting my name and grabbing at my arms, a sure sign she was close. I’d learned her little body, had studied it. I knew her tells, and I worked hard to make sure she got off at least once every fucking time.

 

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