The Virgin’s Dance_Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Michelle Love

  “No.” Boh reached out her hand and he took it. “No, today we’re staying in. Today, Pilot, my darling love, today we’re just going to talk.”

  Pilot stared at her, and she could see in his eyes that he knew what she was doing. He shook his head. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Pilot tugged his hand away and paced away from her. “Don’t do this.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Boh, don’t. Please.”

  “What was your daughter’s name, Pilot?” Boh felt sick at the pain she was causing him but she knew it was the only way for him to start to get over the horror of it.

  “I’m not ready …” His voice was getting louder, panicked, distressed.

  Oh, my love, I’m sorry.

  “How could you ever be ready, Pilot? How?” She kept her voice low and even, even though she wanted to cry. “You need to talk about it; you need to grieve.”

  “No!” He stalked towards the door of the villa but found it locked. She followed him, leaning against the door jamb to stop her body from trembling.

  “And the car keys are hidden too.” She tried to make a joke of it, but her voice shook and it seemed to break his temper. He turned to her.

  “Please don’t make me do this, Boh, please.”

  “I have to. I’m sorry. I love you so much, Pilot, and it kills me to see you in so much pain. But the only way to get out of the hole is to tackle the climb. And right here, right now, alone on this island, this is the time.”

  She went to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, was relieved when his slid around her waist too. He wasn’t pushing her away. She kissed him gently.

  “It’ll hurt. We know that. God, will it hurt, but we can get through this. You’re safe here. You can rant at me, cuss at me, scream at me. Anything you need to do is okay with me. But we are going to do this.”

  Pilot gazed down at her for a long time, every emotion playing out in his eyes. Boh waited patiently, her hands on his face, stroking his temples, trying to offer some comfort.

  Finally, Pilot took a shaky breath in. “Lucia. Her name was Lucia. It was my grandmother’s name.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  He smiled sadly. “So was she. Perfect, pure … and nothing would ever change that for me. Until Eugenie told me that she murdered her.”

  He closed his eyes, his hands clenching into fists. Boh didn’t want to move, afraid of breaking the spell, but she sensed he was about to open up, and they needed to sit.

  She led him by the hand to the living room and they hunched down on the couch, Boh’s arms protectively around her husband.

  Slowly, Pilot told her about his excitement when Eugenie had told him she was pregnant, but how it didn’t change his mind about leaving her.

  “We were toxic together, and Genie knew it, but she wouldn’t let me go. After the fall, after we buried Lucia, she clung to me. For another year, I stayed, because of our tragedy, because what sort of man would I be if I left my wife after a miscarriage? God.”

  He put his head in his hands and Boh tightened her arms around him, pressing her lips to his temple. She said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

  “Then, one day, after a benefit for your ballet company, I found her in bed with my best friend, Wally. I wasn’t even angry; I just felt relief. It set me free. I moved out that night, delivered the divorce papers to her the next day. She signed them; she didn’t really have a choice. But she told me that she would never let me go, that we would always have a tie because of Lucia.”

  Boh turned his face toward her, made him look her in the eye. “You told me that Lucia was pure and perfect—you know all of that came from you, right? I know, both in my heart and from experience, that you are the best father a child could have. Look at Tomi … that boy is the image of you, and he has your joy, your heart, your goodness.”

  “From you too, Boh.”

  “Because you and I … we are one, Pilot. We were always meant to be. She can never take that away from us—from now on, she can never even try. Eugenie is toast, Pilot. But your perfect memory of Lucia will always be that, regardless of how she died. It doesn’t change the fact that your daughter was perfect.”

  Pilot gazed at her and she could see the turmoil in his eyes. “You have every right to be angry and hurt and just destroyed by her death.” Boh took his hand and placed it on her belly. “But then, you stand back up and be a father, a husband, a kickass photographer, because we three need you. You don’t let her win.” She stroked his face. “As far as I am concerned, you are a father of three beautiful children, and by God, will they all love you as much as I do.”

  Pilot pressed his lips against hers with a ferocity that made her hope her words had had some impact on him. She felt his tears on her cheeks. “Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you, my love.”

  They held each other for the longest time and Boh felt the tension draining out of her husband. Eventually, they got up and went outside to breath in the fresh ocean air. Holding hands, they strolled along the beach. Boh smiled up at him.

  “You know? When we get home, I think we should tell Tomi about his older sister. Keep her alive as best as we can …” she faltered, then flushed red. “Is that a terrible idea? Would it hurt you too much? I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize, baby. It was a sweet thought. Can I think about it?”

  “Of course! I spoke too soon.” Damn it, damn it. Boh silently cursed herself—after their progress, she’d gone in with such a clumsy idea.

  Pilot stopped and drew her close. “Boh, it’s a wonderful idea. It really is, and I thank you for thinking that way—especially when we’re talking about Eugenie’s daughter too.”

  “She gave up the right to call herself a mother after doing what she did.”

  He kissed her, and she savored the softness of his lips. “Are you okay, baby?”

  “I am. I really am. I mean, it hurts like hell, I’m not going to deny it, but you were right. I needed to begin the process.”

  Boh smiled at him. “It doesn’t have to all happen right now … but we’ve begun. I’m hopeful.”

  “Me too, baby. Now,” He smiled down at her. “let’s go back to the villa. I’m feeling the need to be even closer to you.”

  Boh grinned. “Insatiable fiend.”

  “You know it.”

  His cock was so hard, he had no trouble plunging into her wet warmth and Boh sighed happily as they began to make love. “Sweetie, let’s make a deal.”

  Pilot grinned down at her as her thighs clamped around his hips. “I think I’d agree to just about anything right now.”

  Boh laughed. “Let’s never take this, our time together as a couple, for granted. Even with the kids. They’re just going to have to put up with us being mushy.”

  “I hear you. Agreed. Now, quiet, while I give you my best moves, woman.”

  Boh giggled and they began to make love faster, more urgently as they both become more aroused.

  “Tell me what you want to do to me,” she whispered, and Pilot grinned.

  “I’m going to fuck you in every room in this villa, pretty girl, so hard, so deep, that you won’t walk properly in the morning.”

  “You better keep that promise.”

  They made love into the night, laughing and joking around. Pilot fucked her as she bent over the breakfast bar, up against the French windows, on the cool tile of the kitchen floor. They finally fell into bed around three a.m., sated and exhausted.

  Pilot felt her shake him. “Pilot. Pilot. Wake up.”

  He opened his eyes to see Boh, her eyes wide with fear. He sat up immediately. “What is it, baby?”

  Her voice cracked as she said the two words which made his heart constrict. “I’m bleeding.”

  For hours at the hospital, the French-speaking doctors worked to save both Boh and the baby and finally, nearly twelve hours after she began bleeding, they came to tell him that both his wife and baby were out of danger. Pilot sat wi
th Boh as she slept, looking at the tubes coming from her arms and wondering that she had had the strength to sit with him for the months he had been recovering from being stabbed by Eugenie.

  Pilot shook his head—Boh had strengths he hadn’t appreciated until now. Even knowing she and the baby were safe now, he still felt helpless to do anything. He went through everything in his head—had their marathon sex brought this on? He knew it hadn’t, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

  Boh opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Hey, handsome.”

  Pilot leaned over and kissed her mouth gently. “How are you feeling?”

  “Pretty good, considering. Docs say the bean is fine. Just one of those things.”

  Pilot chuckled, bemused. “How are you so calm about what happened?”

  “Because pregnancy is always a risk. Life is a risk; we know that better than most.” She touched his face. “We’ll go through these things, Pilot, and we’ll come out the other side.”

  She shifted in the bed and patted it. “Now, get in here, soldier, and hold me.”

  Pilot relaxed finally and sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, big guy. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

  Six months later, Amelie Lucia Scamo was born, perfect and pure and screaming her lungs out. Boh and Pilot doted on their new daughter, and knew, at last, their family was complete.

  The End.

  Dance of Love (A BDSM Romance)

  By Michelle Love

  Donna, 22 and still a virgin, is boarding a plane from Chicago to Spain for a summer vacation to visit her pen pal. She has no idea that she’s embarking on a summer-long adventure full of desire, drama, and passion—with a side of sexy flamenco lessons! Can she tame the wild gypsy heart of her dancing flame?

  Chapter 1

  “Donna! Welcome to España!” She’d have recognized his voice anywhere, and it carried easily to her from across the busy airport lobby.

  The smile that came over Donna’s face couldn’t be stopped as she dragged her suitcase across to José, who she hadn’t seen in years. José. As the wheels squeaked reluctantly across the floor, her heart pounded in anticipation of seeing him again.

  And just like that, there he was; on time as always and waiting just for her. José was taller than she remembered, but his big white grin and the perfect wavy hair that always flopped over his brow was just as she’d pictured in her fantasies all these years.

  There were butterflies in her stomach and she paused a moment, just taking him in. I’m actually doing this.

  He came bounding towards her, his long legs easily covering twice the ground she had made, and grabbed her, pulling her into the warmth of his large frame.

  “Ah, my little Donna! I am so happy to see you—let me look at you. Ooh la la, you look good! Ready for a summer in Spain?” he asked in his lightly accented English.

  He has the exuberance of an extremely cute puppy, Donna thought, happy that that, too, remained the same.

  “Sure am,” she replied, looking up into his handsome face.

  “Seriously, where has my geeky little friend gone? You look so sophisticated and grown up.”

  His teasing brought a blush to Donna’s cheeks as he continued to hold her at arm’s length, looking her up and down.

  “Well, I am a graduate now. I had to grow up sometime.”

  He chuckled, giving her another brief hug before letting her go. “I’ve missed you. I miss America too, but I have missed you most.”

  Donna had met José her freshman year of college. He’d been studying abroad in the States and they’d quickly developed a close friendship—but nothing more than that, to Donna’s continued dismay. The man had been beautiful even then, when he’d just been on the cusp of adulthood. She’d had a crush on him almost instantly, and her feelings had only grown stronger over the years, thanks to his frequent letters and emails.

  “I missed you too. I’ve missed you a lot,” she said, suddenly shy again, her eyes firmly fixed on the diamond pattern of the floor tiles, unable to meet his eyes.

  “Come on then, let’s get out of here!” He grabbed the suitcase she had been struggling with, lifted it off its wheels and carried it as if it were as light as a feather.

  She tried to keep up with his long strides, but the little red heels she’d worn to impress him weren’t being cooperative. She usually wasn’t much of a heels girl, but she managed to stay upright. As they reached the exit and walked out into the Spanish heat, she felt a warm glow of happiness spread through her.

  She did feel sophisticated. She felt good. She felt like a million bucks.

  I’ve finally made it.

  José was walking slightly ahead now, that bounce in his step forever propelling him forward.

  “You are going to love my new set of … how do Americans say? New set of wheels. Yes, you really are going to love them.”

  He pointed at a car on the far end of the airport parking lot. There were two cars in view, a bright yellow convertible and an unremarkable black Nissan parked at a bad angle. The convertible had an occupant in it, so she assumed he was talking about the empty Nissan.

  “Ahh, yeah. Cool! It’s black, like the Batmobile,” she said, trying to find anything positive to say.

  “No, not that old one. The fun one—the yellow beast!”

  Donna looked up at the yellow car again, taking a closer look at the woman sitting in the front passenger seat smoking.

  Squinting in the sunshine to see a little clearer, she missed the pavement, caught her heel on the curb and toppled to the ground.

  Donna lay flat on the ground looking up at the blue sky, pulses of pain shooting up her leg to her back. She heard the sound of the car door open and footsteps running towards her.

  A woman with rosebud lips and perfect cheekbones peered down at her.

  “Oh, mierda! Are you okay?” the stranger asked, her concern evident even with her thick Spanish accent.

  “Fine, I’m fine.”

  “Can you move?”

  “Yes, I think so. I just need to stay down here for a minute. Who are you?” she asked, her curiosity outweighing any issue she might’ve had with sounding rude with her blunt question.

  Another face appeared now—José’s.

  “Donna, oh my goodness! Are you okay? Donna, this is my fiancée, Maria.”

  “Your fiancée?” she almost shouted.

  “Yes, my fiancée.” He reached his hand out for Maria’s and then placed a little intimate peck on her lips.

  Donna was glad she was on the ground, and figured she’d just stay there until it decided to swallow her whole. The tinnitus in her head got a little louder and she let out a wail of something like agony.

  “Don’t worry, Maria is a trained nurse. She will look after you—you are in the best possible hands.”

  “Oh, good,” she mumbled.

  Donna closed her eyes for a few minutes, grateful for the pain in her ankle as she breathed in and out, letting the pain and disappointment mingle and wash over her.

  “Did you bump your head?” Maria asked.

  “No, I think I’m all right,” she repeated and tried to get up, only to find that her body was shaking involuntarily.

  “You don’t look that good. Let me take your pulse.” Maria reached forward, trying to get at Donna’s wrist.

  “Well, I don’t look as good as you, but you look like a goddess,” Donna said, wincing as she realized that she’d said her thoughts out loud.

  “You are right, José. She is very funny!” Maria laughed before getting back to business. “Hmm … your heart rate is normal. Try moving your toes.”

  “They’re wiggling just fine,” José reported diligently.

  “Let’s get her up. José, help me get her up.”

  With José on one side and Maria on the other, Donna was lifted until she could stand. She felt dwarfed by the two of them, both of them towering above her.

 
She felt like a plump little goblin between these two, with their tall, tanned good looks. They looked like movie stars.

  Looking down, she saw that her new white dress was torn now and that there was blood dripping down her arms and knees.

  Her makeup, which she’d spent so much time carefully applying before getting off the plane, was smudged. She made an attempt at dignity, pulling down the little cotton dress and wiping her hair out of her face.

  “I’m all right, I’m all right. I think I was just tired from the flight.” She fixed a pained smile on her face, and with her shoes in her hands, was escorted into the back seat of the little yellow car.