Hypocritically Yours: A Standalone Age-Gap Romance
Page 34
Closing my eyes, I let my body relax. I allow myself to just feel my husband as he moves inside of me. My husband. This man that I have fallen so in love with. This man that owns all of me, even parts of me that I didn’t know existed a year ago. This man who adopted Holden, who is the father of this unborn child.
This man who is my everything.
They say that age is just a number, and I am living that testament. Landry Astor does not act, smile, or fuck like a man who is in his sixties. His age means nothing to me, his heart and his love, on the other hand, mean everything.
It doesn’t take me long to find my climax, I seem to be on edge in general the past week or so. When I come it’s with a whimpered cry as I push back against him, my body trembling.
My legs are shaky, but Landry doesn’t let me fall, he holds me up, his hips thrusting a few more times until he buries himself inside of me and fills me with his release.
LANDRY
I’m still thinking about bending Tennessee over the counter and fucking her. The images, the desire that just the thought of it brings to mind makes my cock harden, even if we’re sitting at brunch, all four of my children and her mother, Helen, at the table.
Four children, soon to be five. I adopted Holden immediately after marrying Tennessee. Aaron Anderson may have had a paternity test done, but he did not ask to be added to the birth certificate and Bash paid him a little visit to sign a document giving up all parental rights.
He did it. Too afraid that he would be brought to trial for the heinous acts he committed. I should have done that. I should have nailed his balls to the wall. I didn’t, mainly because it wasn’t what Tennessee wanted and after talking to Bash, we couldn’t.
“So you made a big deal about all of us being here, what is it?” Lucinda drawls.
I snort, knowing that if anyone has this figured out already, it’s most assuredly her. Grinning, I reach for Tennessee’s hand beneath the table. Clearing my throat, I look over to her, she shifts her gaze to me, her smile unable to be disguised.
“Tennessee and I are having a baby,” I announce.
Helen gasps. Lawrence grunts, but both Landry and Lucinda smile. A year ago, they would have both been furious, called us fools. Perhaps Helen and Lawrence feel that way still, but Laurent and Lucinda get it, at least they tolerate it if nothing else.
“I think you’re making a mistake, for what it’s worth,” Lawrence mutters. “I have seen the ramifications of an age gap not even half this large and what it does to families and children. I am telling you, from a psychologist’s point of view, this just isn’t smart.”
I roll my eyes at his words. I should have forced him to go into business. I really fucking should have.
“I know it’s probably not wise, but we are in love and we both wanted another child, maybe two. We’re happy and we aren’t asking for your opinion, your blessing, or your permission. Tennessee and I are both adults,” I state as I give her hand a small squeeze.
Shifting my gaze from Lawrence, I look over at Helen. She has her head tipped and is looking down at the table. Slowly, she lifts her gaze up to meet mine.
“I should be angry with you. I’m younger than you and here you are with my daughter, but I’m not. I can’t deny that I’m worried about what lies ahead for the both of you, but I also can’t deny that you are a good man, Landry. I was proud the day you saved me, happy the day you married Tenny, and I’ll be smiling right next to you the day this baby is born.”
“Oh, Mom,” Tennessee whispers through shaky lips.
Nobody says anything else for a long moment, then eventually the topic of conversation shifts. We enjoy the rest of the brunch and to my surprise, Lucinda cleans up and won’t allow Tennessee to lift a finger.
That’s another thing that’s happened. Since her attack, Lucinda has changed as well. It was confirmed that Susan was the one who paid her boss to hurt her, to make it to where I would leave and come back to Texas, leaving Tennessee vulnerable.
Susan is a piece of shit and I’m ashamed that I stayed married to her for as long as I did, ashamed of myself for it. I should have left the moment I knew she’d slept with someone else. I was weak, worried over my children, but I didn’t need to be. They’re stronger than I ever could be.
When the guests leave, later that evening when Holden is asleep, I gather my wife in my arms as we lie in bed.
“Did it go better or worse than you expected?” she asks, lifting her head from my chest to look into my eyes.
I smile down at her. “It went better. Mainly because you were there, also because I think that Helen finally realizes that I’m not married to you so that I can show off a sexy little trophy,” I say with a chuckle.
She smirks as she crawls over me, straddling my hips. “Are you implying I’m not a trophy wife?” she asks.
Letting out a laugh, I wrap my arms around her back and pull her down against my chest, my lips touching hers. “You’ll always be my trophy, Tennessee, but not for reasons anyone else thinks.”
“Why then?” she breathes.
Nipping her bottom lip with my teeth, I pull away slightly, keeping my mouth from touching hers. “Because I fought for you, honey. I fought for you and I’ll continue to fight for you and for us until the day that I die. You are a trophy. You’re my prize and I am never letting you go. Not fucking ever. I love you.”
About the Author
As an only child, Hayley Faiman had to entertain herself somehow. She started writing stories at the age of six and never really stopped.
Born in California, she met her now husband at the age of sixteen and married him at the age of twenty in 2004. After all of these years together, he’s still the love of her life.
She lives in the Hill Country of Texas with her family and a Chocolate Labrador named Optimus Prime.
Most of Hayley’s days are spent taking care of her two boys, going to sports practices, or helping them with homework. Her evenings are spent with her husband and her nights—those are spent creating alpha book boyfriends.