The Virgin’s Dance_Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Michelle Love

  “I will take that as a compliment,” I chuckled, retreating to fetch him his snacks.

  When I returned, he was staring at my computer, his brow furrowed.

  “You’re reading about us,” he said angrily. “Why?”

  I laughed nervously, feeling like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “I’m curious about you,” I replied honestly. “You can’t be surprised. You must be used to being in the spotlight by now.”

  Julian reached for a cookie and studied me suspiciously.

  “I haven’t seen reporters in months,” he replied quietly, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  “Oh no?” I asked casually. “I guess that’s good.”

  He shrugged and popped the tab on his drink, taking a big swig before answering. “I guess.”

  “Any idea why they stopped chasing you?”

  Julian’s back tensed and his head whipped abruptly to look at me, as if possessed by a poltergeist.

  “Who’s chasing us?” he demanded.

  My whole body froze at his reaction, and I slowly shook my head in confusion. “I don’t know,” I replied, throwing up my hands to show him I meant nothing by my question. “Is someone chasing you?”

  “My dad thinks so,” he mumbled, lowering his brown eyes guiltily. I could see he felt disloyal talking about family business. “We’ve been moving around a lot. I can’t go to school anymore. Dad says it’s too dangerous.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “Six months? I don’t know. One minute I was in Horace Mann Prep, the next I was in France. And then Australia. And then England. Now here. This is the longest we’ve stayed anywhere.”

  So, he did go to those other places first before settling here. Could someone be after him? The mob maybe? A business deal gone bad?

  “That sounds rough,” I offered sympathetically. “I hope it all gets straightened out soon. You must miss your friends.”

  Julian nodded, his eyes clouding with sadness—for a moment, I thought he was going to cry.

  “Well, I know I’m not young and hip, but I hope you will consider me your friend, Julian,” I told him gently. “I would like to be your friend.”

  He looked at me, and the innocence in his face almost broke my heart.

  “I know my dad and me fight a lot, but he’s not a bad guy. I’m sorry he’s so mean to you. He’s just worried. I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “It’s okay, Julian. You don’t have to worry about me. It’s a dad’s job to take care of his son, and he’s doing the very best he can for you.”

  “Do you fight with your dad?”

  I snickered louder than I should have as a dozen memories flooded my head. “Every kid fights with their dad,” I assured him. “It’s what keeps them strong.” I winked to show him I was joking and then changed the subject to video games.

  We’d been hanging out for about an hour when he suddenly glanced up at the clock.

  “I better get back before he starts wondering where I am,” Julian announced, and I nodded.

  “Well, come back anytime. This place is guaranteed to be stocked with junk food.”

  He groaned and grabbed his stomach. “I think I already ate too much,” he complained, and I laughed.

  “When you feel better then.”

  He nodded and ventured back to the mansion, leaving me to process what I had learned.

  I was relieved that Julian didn’t think his dad was dangerous. That put my mind at ease somewhat. But the question remained: what was Mason Ambrose so concerned about?

  ~ ~ ~

  I couldn’t sleep that night, and I tossed and turned on the double bed, feeling lumps in the mattress that I’d never noticed before.

  Around one a.m., I abandoned the idea of sleep and decided to head outside to enjoy the late spring night.

  It was humid, and I could tell we were in for a scorching summer. I was glad to be so close to the lake. I slipped my silk robe around my slim frame, cinching it at the waist as I stared up at the star-spangled night.

  I had forgotten how beautiful it was. I’d spent so little time appreciating my surroundings since I arrived. I had forgotten the entire purpose of my vacation.

  Instead, I was in the middle of more chaos, my mind racing constantly.

  Krista would kill me if she knew what I was doing up here, I mused, but I was in too deep now. I couldn’t walk away from the Ambrose mystery even if I wanted to. I decided that I owed it to Julian to find out the truth of what was going on.

  And there was only one way to do that.

  I had to demand answers from Mason Ambrose, whether he wanted to give them to me or not.

  I couldn’t deny that I wanted to stand in front of Mason again, half-naked and filled with even more fire this time.

  Would he answer my questions? Would he deny me?

  I needed to find out.

  Before I could lose my adrenaline-infused nerve, I strode toward the entranceway of the Ambrose home, but I didn’t use the gate or the intercom. I used Julian’s secret way of entering, sliding through the break in the bushes on the south side of the property.

  It was warm, yes, but not warm enough for central air conditioning, and several windows were open. But I knew precisely where I was headed.

  The study was easy to find, as it was the only room on the ground floor with lights still blazing.

  He works all hours. When does he sleep?

  I paused outside the window, peering inside. As I suspected, Mason was at his desk, his head bowed over his computer, his back to me.

  I inhaled sharply, closing my eyes as I realized what I was about to do.

  It was reckless and stupid.

  I knew I should go home.

  But I didn’t.

  Chapter Seven

  Mason

  I heard the rustling at my back and I spun around instantly, reaching for the panic button under my desk. But I stopped myself when I saw who it was.

  “You just don’t quit, do you?” I snapped, rising as she slid in through the large, open window. “What the hell are you doing, breaking into my house?”

  “I’m not breaking in,” she replied evenly, as if climbing through a neighbor’s windows was a commonplace occurrence. “I’m here to visit you.”

  “It’s two o’clock in the goddamn morning, Miss Delancey. Even if I had something to discuss with you, I would not be doing it at this hour.”

  I tried to ignore the fact that her legs seemed to go on forever underneath her too-short robe. I tried to ignore everything about her body, especially the fact that she was barely wearing any clothing to cover it.

  “I can’t sleep,” she informed me, and I snorted derisively.

  “Have you come here for me to sing you a lullaby?”

  “No, Mr. Ambrose. I came for you to tell me what you’re hiding from.”

  My jaw locked, and I stared at her defiantly. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I want you to leave. Now. And don’t come back.”

  “Julian told me you’re on the run, and you have been for months. I want to help you. It’s not good for Julian to be living scared like this, or for him to be out of school.”

  Indignation coursed through my veins, and I glared at her. “Are you an expert on parenting, Miss Delancey? I don’t see you with any kids of your own,” I snarled. “Now, please leave.”

  “You’re not even giving me a chance,” she complained, and a small part of me was impressed by her determination. But mostly I wanted to throttle her…or maybe kiss her to shut her up.

  Yeah, to shut her up.

  Not because her mouth was a constant distraction as she spoke to me, her words barely penetrating my brain as they spilled from her naturally pink lips.

  She wasn’t even wearing gloss—her lips were genuinely the color of spring rose petals.

  Even in the aftermath of what had obviously been a fitful sleep, she was intriguingly beautiful, so young and fre
sh and—

  I have to stop right now.

  But how could I stop it?

  The combination of arousal and anger was making it impossible for me to resist her, and I could tell by the glint in her eye that she knew it.

  She looked like she was spoiling for more than just a fight. That was why she had come to me like this. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.

  No. No, I couldn’t do it. She had no place here.

  “You’re going to help me using your sociology degree?” I mocked her, watching as her eyes clouded with ire.

  “Social work,” she corrected. “And you would be surprised what a pair of unbiased ears can offer.”

  “Get out of here, little girl. And stop snooping around. I already warned you about this.”

  “You’ll tell me what I want to know,” she insisted, stepping toward me menacingly. I almost laughed in her face, imagining how she thought her slim frame could do any physical damage to me—her body wasn’t designed for intimidation; it was designed for pleasure.

  “Or what?” I taunted her. “You’ll beat me up?”

  A look of calm passed over her lovely features, and I was instantly wary. I knew that look. All women had it. I called it the “Royal Flush.”

  She was holding onto something that would drive me from mocking to madness with one sentence, I knew it.

  I silently willed her not to say whatever it was she was thinking and to turn around and leave—to never come back—but it was already coming from her mouth.

  “If you don’t, I will have CPS knocking on your door first thing in the morning, demanding to know why you haven’t had your son in school for six months.”

  There it was.

  She hadn’t just crossed the line, she had taken a flying leap so far over it that the line was no longer visible.

  “What?” I growled, my voice barely a strangled whisper. “What did you just say?”

  I could see my expression frightened her, but she held her ground.

  “You heard me, Mason. I will pick up the phone right now and—”

  The sentence was never completed as I lunged for her, my hands on her shoulders, crashing her back against the wall next to the window, my lips smothering hers, crushing any more words she thought to use against me.

  Instantly, her legs snaked around my waist, her hips jutting into mine, fingers entwining in my hair as her mouth parted to make room for my tongue.

  I was enraged with her, my fury pulsing through my fingertips as they moved down and squeezed her tiny ass cheeks, prying her folds apart as my shaft rubbed against her already wet center.

  With only her flimsy panties and my pants between us, I slammed her against the wall with my pelvis, my teeth gnashing down on her lower lip and making her gasp in pleasure-filled pain.

  “Is this what you wanted?” I hissed, one hand reaching up to tug on her blonde waves, exposing the sweet curve of her neck. “Is this what you’ve been asking for?”

  “Oh, fuck yes,” she purred, her ankles locking at my back as my fingers slid along the sopping cleft guarding her entrance.

  “Christ, your pussy…” I muttered, wrenching my hand away to undo my pants. I wanted to pound into her until she screamed for mercy, begging for my forgiveness.

  My head dropped down, my tongue meeting the creamy tops of her surprisingly full breasts. Again I nipped at her tender skin, relishing the feel of her squirming beneath me.

  Her fingers tightened in my hair, and she guided me toward the taut skin of her nipples, her crotch slipping over the raging pole of my hard on.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered, her back sliding against the wall as she tried to urge me inside. “Please fuck me.”

  “Say it again,” I ordered. “Beg me.”

  “Oh fuck, please!” she cried, and I knew I could not hold out for much longer.

  I’d wanted her from the first moment I had seen her, after all. Each day that had passed had only added to my desire, to my need to possess her.

  And finally, I had my wish.

  She screamed as I filled her, her breath catching in gasps as our hips met.

  “Oh…my…” Gabriella could barely speak, overtaken and overwhelmed by the girth and size of my unit, its thickness stretching her walls.

  I had never felt such a tight grip in all my life; I wanted to set up camp and live right there forever, pushing my cock inside her with my teeth around her nipple.

  I grunted, jamming myself deeper inside her, raising my head to study her face.

  Her green eyes had gone glassy, the tiny, pink tip of her tongue peeking outside her mouth as her body rocked to the pounding I was giving her.

  Deeper, harder, faster I moved, my fingers sliding along the back of her opening, slick with her juices.

  “Cum for me,” I ordered her. She tried to nod but she seemed immobilized, her body overcome with sensation as my sack slapped against her.

  But then I felt it, my own balls growing hard as she tensed.

  She was going to climax. I could tell by her quivering, her short breaths and hazy eyes.

  “Oh fuckkkk…”

  The groan was so low and guttural, I wasn’t sure it had come from her mouth.

  “Good girl,” I muttered, pressing myself inside her. Her walls squeezed tight around me, and I was done, my own moan reverberating throughout the office so loudly that I was almost worried it would wake Julian.

  I spilled hotly into her, and she clenched her hands onto my ass, holding me in place as I expelled all the anger, the frustration, the passion I had held onto for God only knows how long.

  My orgasm seemed to go on forever, and when it finally finished, I thought I was going to collapse.

  In a breathless mess of sweat and juices, we sank to the floor, our bodies still entangled.

  Gabriella stared into my eyes, panting, willing the first words out of me, but I still needed time to catch my breath.

  “You see?” she teased me after a minute. “I’m not so bad.”

  “No,” I agreed. “You’re actually very, very good.”

  She laughed, and I noticed she blushed.

  “I never cum,” she mumbled. “You made me.”

  “I’m glad.” I could tell that the smirk on my face leaned toward cocky, but I couldn’t help it.

  We stared at each other, and I exhaled slowly.

  She was so sweet, despite all the fire she boasted. More importantly, she cared about Julian, I could see that.

  But I also knew that she would not be able to help us. There was nothing this precious, doll-like beauty could do, no matter how brave and enchanting she might be.

  But I was wrong about one thing. She did have a place in our lives.

  “Mason?” she breathed, her face registering her uneasiness as my suddenly serious demeanor. “What is it?”

  “I’m going to tell you what we’re running from,” I replied.

  Chapter Eight

  Mason

  By the way her mouth parted, I could see she was surprised that I had agreed. But I had realized that in the middle of all this insanity, there had not been one person I’d been able to talk to about it.

  Julian was far too young to know the truth, and he was scared enough. Moreover, he didn’t know about his own history yet.

  “It started about six months ago,” I began. “When we were in New York. Julian was almost kidnapped on the way home from school.”

  “What?” Gabby gasped. “What the hell?”

  I nodded. “I know. I was terrified, but as much as I hate to sound cynical, when you’re the son of a man who makes money, you’ll always be a target. Immediately, we hired bodyguards for him.” I looked down at my hands, suddenly plagued by the memory of what had happened. “They were both killed, and another kidnapping attempt was made.”

  Gabriella’s face turned almost translucent.

  “Both times, the kidnappings were intercepted by good Samaritans who just happened to be there, and they were able to give
an accurate description of the woman involved. Through CCTV and facial recognition software, I learned who she was.”

  “Oh, thank God!” Gabby cried naively. “Was she arrested?”

  “No, Gabriella. She wasn’t. Her name is Molly Saunders and…”

  I didn’t want to finish the sentence.

  “Mason?”

  “She’s Julian’s birth mother, and she apparently wants him back.”

  “But he was an infant when you adopted him!” Gabriella gasped. “How can she suggest that?”

  “Legally, she has no standing. She was high on heroin when she gave birth, and Julian was born addicted. She couldn’t clean herself up enough to even go to court. There is no question that Olivia and I—” I stopped myself. “That I am Julian’s father. The thing is, he doesn’t know he’s adopted yet, and I didn’t know when to tell him, especially when we have spent months trying to escape her. She’s followed us everywhere but here so far.”

  She nodded her head slowly. “Because this house isn’t in your name. She doesn’t know where to find you,” Gabby murmured and I was impressed by her deductive reasoning.

  She was much more than a pretty face.

  “Wait a second,” Gabriella said, sitting up and pulling her nightie up against her bare breasts. “A drug-addled woman is managing to terrorize you wherever you go? How does she have the means? The money?”

  Again, I marveled at her thinking.

  “She is married to a high-ranking member of the Outlaws,” I explained. “Apparently, we are easy enough to find with the backing of a biker gang.”

  “What are the police doing about this?”

  “Everything they can. We need to lay low until she’s caught, Gabby, but who knows if her husband won’t seek retribution? We’re living in limbo right now.”

  Gabriella’s face reflected the sympathy she was feeling as she reached for my hand.

  “You’re a great father. You’re sacrificing a lot for your son.”

  “It’s not a sacrifice. But I don’t feel like we’re living right now. I feel like we’re stuck on a hamster wheel, running and going absolutely nowhere.”

  She made a commiserating noise and we sat in silence for a moment, both of us collecting our thoughts.