by N. J. Young
His control was slipping fast. Gripping her backside, he lifted her onto the island, so her face was even with his. She wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles at the back of his waist.
He needed her. Now.
Chapter Seven
At the warmth of Foster’s lips on her neck, Linzee knew she was in big trouble. With every stroke of his tongue on her sensitive skin, her body quivered, melting just a little more in his embrace. She wrapped an arm around his neck, urging his mouth to hers again. Her other hand went to his waist, slipping beneath the sweatshirt he wore, and she almost groaned at the feel of his heated skin.
His lips explored hers, then trailed over her jaw, down her neck and back up again, as her hands roamed over his back. She barely realized that she’d begun thrusting her hips, rubbing herself against the large erection that pressed against her pussy. “You feel so good,” she said on a little whine. She wanted him so much.
“Linzee, sugar.” He pulled away to look into her eyes. She could tell that his control was slipping just as much as hers was. “I need you. Right here. Right now.” He searched her face as if looking for an answer. “If you want me to stop, you need to tell me. Tell me to stop. Because in a few seconds, I don’t know if I can.”
She grinned up at him as she trailed her fingers around to his front, enjoying the way his abs tightened as she stroked his bare skin.
“Don’t stop, Foster. I don’t want you to stop. I need you inside of me.”
At her words, something inside of him seemed to break, and he crushed his mouth to hers in a kiss that told her he was a man who took exactly what he wanted. His hands flew to the hem of her sweater, and he pushed it up. He separated his mouth from hers only long enough to pull the sweater over her head.
When he reached around her back for the clasp of her bra, she stiffened. Her breasts weren’t young and perky. She was forty. She’d had a child. Saying her breasts sagged a little would have been an accurate statement ten years ago. But now? Now, she felt as though she needed to fold the damn things up just to tuck them into her bra each morning.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, probably sensing her sudden unease.
She took a deep breath. How did she tell him she was insecure with her body? She was sure that was a huge turn-off. “Nothing,” she stammered. “I was just thinking that we could, um … I don’t know, maybe turn the lights off?”
He looked at her in disbelief as though she’d just asked him to put on a dress and do the hula.
After a long moment, his eyes narrowed. “No, we cannot turn the lights off, Linzee.”
Shit, that was what she’d figured. He was going to take one look at her and realize he’d made a huge mistake.
He curled a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his searching eyes.
“Sugar, do you not want me to see you?”
She took a deep breath. “Foster, my body isn’t what you’re used to, I’m sure. I mean, I—I’m older than you. My boobs aren’t young and perky.”
His frustrated sigh silenced her. Finally he said, “No, you’re right.”
At his words, she jerked her eyes to his. Her ex-husband always told her how inadequate her body was, but for some reason, it made her want to cry that Foster might think that too.
But then he continued. “Your boobs aren’t small and perky. They’re full and luscious, and gorgeous.”
“Foster, you don’t have to say—”
“Linzee, stop talking, or I’m going to take a page out of Luke’s book and spank your pretty ass. I can see now why he talks about punishment.”
Her eyes widened dramatically, but she remained silent. Punishment?
“Good. Now I have your attention. Linz, I don’t want small, pointy breasts. I don’t want a girl who tries to stay skinnier than I was when I was twelve. I want a woman. I love your curves.” His hands cupped her bottom. “I love your gorgeous ass, and I can’t tell you how many times over the last couple of days I’ve thought about sinking my cock into it. Have you ever had a cock in your ass, sugar?”
“I—a—you mean … back there?”
His face lit with that damn grin, and he chuckled as he squeezed the cheeks of her ass. “Yes, sweetheart, back there.”
She shook her head. Her ex had asked her once to try it, but she thought it just sounded like it would be painful. So why, when Foster mentioned it, did it sound so damned erotic?
“Well, that’s not something we’re going to worry about tonight. But soon, Linz. Very soon.” He leaned down to kiss her again, and began sliding her bra down her arms. She’d been so caught up in him, that she hadn’t even noticed he’d unhooked it.
After her bra fell to the floor, his hands slid up to cup her breasts, and she felt her breath catch as his rough thumbs stroked over her nipples. He stood back to look at her, holding both breasts in his hands, watching as her nipples hardened beneath his touch.
She had to bite her lip to hold back the moan that bubbled up as her nipples hardened to the point of pain. She looked at Foster’s darkened eyes and saw herself the way he saw her. Beautiful.
“Fuck, you’re incredible. I need my mouth on you.” When he leaned in to capture a nipple in his mouth, Linzee thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Her hips mindlessly bucked against his as she held his head to her breast, clenching a fistful of that raven-black hair. With every strong suck, every scrape of his stubble along her sensitive skin, a jolt of lightning went from her nipple straight to her pussy, making her writhe on the counter.
“I need you,” she whined. “Please, I can’t wait anymore, Foster.”
“Me either.” In one quick move, he picked her up and stood her on her feet. She reached to unfasten her jeans, and realized they were already undone. Damn, he was good. Foster’s hands were at her waist, sliding her jeans and panties down past her hips until they were at her ankles. She kicked off her shoes and then stepped out of her jeans to stand naked in front of him. She fought the instinct to cover herself. She wanted him to see her, wanted to please him with her body. And she was pretty damn sure she didn’t want to be punished, whatever that meant.
“Look at me, Linzee.”
When she met his eager gaze, she was filled with confidence.
His eyes were hungry as they swept appreciatively over her body. Foster whipped his sweatshirt off and quickly unbuttoned his jeans. When he slid them off, Linzee gasped at the sight of him. His cock pointed straight upward and nearly reached his navel. And the thickness … good lord. She’d had a child and yet wondered how that thing was going to fit inside of her.
He stood as her eyes traveled over him, not moving except to reach up and slowly stroke his cock from the base to the plum-shaped head. A drop of fluid already adorned the slit, and her mouth watered at the sight. When she licked her lips, Foster groaned, finally taking a step toward her.
“The sight of that mouth is going to fucking kill me, Linzee.” He reached down and lifted her, setting her back up on the counter. This time when he moved in between her legs, nothing separated them.
Chapter Eight
Foster was trying so hard to go slow, but Linzee made it impossible. Everything about her was perfect. He took her mouth, and when he thrust his tongue forward, she moved her hips against him, and his cock slid along the wet seam of her pussy.
“Now, Foster,” she begged. “Please. Now.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He reached down to line himself up with her opening, and her heat nearly overwhelmed him. Linzee cried out, her grip on his shoulders tightening as he thrust forward and completely buried himself in her warmth.
He had to stop for a moment and take a few deep breaths to make sure he didn’t go off. He was already so close, but he paused to let her adjust to his size. He wanted this to be good for her. Hell, he wanted to feel her come around his cock. And holy hell, she was tight. He hadn’t expected her to be this fucking tight.
She was on the edge of the counter, so her
movements were limited, but she wrapped her legs around him as he began to thrust, trying to set a slow rhythm. With each deep stroke, she let out a little whimper, her hands roaming along his back, their movement growing more frantic with every thrust. The feel of her heels pressing into his lower back made him tremble with the need to throw caution to the wind and pound into her.
Foster sped up, needing her to come so he could let go. He slid his hand in between them and his thumb found the hard nub of her clit. Her eyes widened for an instant, and he sped up his thrusts, pumping into her as his thumb pressed down firmly.
“Foster!” she cried as her pussy clamped down on his cock. Her body went rigid and then she shattered. Her arms clenched tight around his neck, and she buried her face in his shoulder as her body shook and shuddered in his arms.
He held her tightly, nestling his face in her hair as he gave one final thrust. Her spasming pussy milked every last drop of his come.
Foster held her tightly to him, enjoying the final quivers of her body. Vaguely, he was aware he hadn’t worn a condom. Part of his mind knew he should be kicking himself, but his body was reveling in the best sexual experience of his life. He’d never felt like this before. Not ever.
He was so caught up in Linzee that he didn’t hear the door, didn’t hear anyone enter. He just heard Ethan’s angry voice. “Seriously? In my fucking kitchen?!”
Linzee stiffened, shoving him away from her, and Foster backed up to see Ethan and Tori standing in the doorway. Tori’s eyes went wide before she yanked at Ethan’s arm. “Outside. Babe, we need to wait outside,” she said.
But Ethan wasn’t listening. Linzee was frantically searching for her clothes, yanking them back on as Ethan yelled. “Foster, I’m going to fucking kill you. I fucking told you not to fuck my fucking chef. And not only do you not listen to me, but you fucked her in my fucking kitchen!”
Foster reached for his jeans, yanking them on as he looked at Linzee. Her face was bright red with embarrassment, and he could see tears in her eyes. Fuck! He was going to kill Ethan.
Tori stepped forward and yanked on Ethan’s arm harder this time. “Ethan, we are waiting outside!” This time his brother paid attention and followed her out the door, grumbling. But it was too late. Linzee was practically sprinting out the door.
“Linz! Wait!” He tried to grab her arm to stop her, but she pulled away from him, a tear spilling over.
“No, Foster. Just … don’t.” And she turned and ran.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Linzee sucked down her third cup of coffee. After a sleepless night of tossing and turning—and way too much thinking—she was pretty sure there wasn’t enough coffee in the world to wake her up.
She sat at the ledge counter at the Cup o’ Joe coffee house. The counter lined the large bay window that faced Main Street. She told herself she wasn’t sitting there because it faced F. Price Photography. She told herself she wasn’t hoping for one glimpse of the god of a man who had been inside of her last night.
Warmth flooded her at the thought. She’d tried to tell herself it was wrong and that the whole thing was a mistake, but her body disagreed. Her nipples pebbled at the thought of his mouth on her, and she could feel liquid pool at her center as she thought about how amazing he’d felt. The only man she’d been with was her husband, and in eighteen years of marriage, she’d never felt so wanton, so consumed with need.
She lifted a shaking hand to her coffee cup. Pull it together, Linzee.
The thought of facing her boss was enough to sober her up. While she’d ignored fifteen phone calls and texts from Foster, she hadn’t received one from Ethan. The thought of facing Foster might be a moot point since Ethan could very well fire her, and she might have to leave town anyway.
The bell above the door jingled, and Marnie Peters walked in. Linzee had run into Marnie around town, and the older woman was so engaging that Linzee had found herself volunteering to help at the animal shelter Marnie owned.
“Linzee!” Marnie came over and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so glad I ran into you. I just got the most wonderful news. My daughter is moving back to town.”
Linzee smiled, but she couldn’t help feel a small pang of jealousy. She’d give anything if her own daughter lived closer. “That’s wonderful, Marnie.”
“You’re just going to love her. She was friends with Becca in school. Those girls sure knew how to have fun, let me tell you.”
Linzee couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “I have no doubt.”
Marnie chatted for a few more minutes before she said, “Well, I’d better get. I’ll see you Friday at Becca’s little soiree.”
Before Linzee could answer that she might not be going, Marnie was already making her way over to the front counter to place her order.
Turning back to the window, Linzee took a sip of her coffee and watched a couple of twenty-something women breeze through, deep in conversation. She wouldn’t have given them a second glance until she heard Foster’s name.
“So let me get this straight,” the young brunette was saying. “You made an appointment for Foster Price to take a Christmas card picture of you with your dog just so you could spend some time alone with him?”
Linzee glanced at the blonde, who flipped her hair back as she giggled. Not only was the blonde way younger than her, but Linzee would bet the girl still had a warranty on the double-D breasts she sported on her tiny body. Why did men like women who displayed two massive water balloons on their chests?
“I know Foster is into me,” the blonde was saying. “He flirts with me all the time.”
Her friend rolled her eyes. “Foster Price flirts with everyone. Duh, Heather.”
The woman named Heather planted perfectly manicured hands on her hips and glared at her friend. “Not like this. I know what I’m talking about. Foster is into me. He just needs a little push. So when I go in with Princess, I’m going to make my move.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I hear he has a thing for Ethan’s new chef. Some gal from Chicago.”
Linzee’s ears perked up, but the women paused their conversation as they placed their order. When they sat at a table behind her, they picked up where they’d left off.
“So have you seen this woman?” Heather asked her friend. “The one Foster supposedly likes?”
“Nope, but I heard she’s pretty,” the brunette said.
Linzee heard a harrumphing sound that she assumed came from Heather. “Well, I heard she’s old. People can talk all they want, but it’s not like Foster would ever choose some cougar when he could have this.”
Cougar. She’d always hated that term. But that was what she was, wasn’t she? Since she’d struck up a friendship with Rebecca Price, Linzee had learned a lot about the Price clan, including their ages. Foster was thirty-two, eight years younger than she was.
Linzee had heard enough. The air seemed to close in on her as the women continued to speculate about all of her faults.
Then she heard Marnie’s voice and whipped her head around. The older woman was standing at the two younger women’s table, holding her coffee as she gave them a withering stare. “You sure do have a lot to learn, Heather. Even if your fake nails and even faker boobs were Foster’s style, which they’re not, I can tell you for certain that he doesn’t go for your particular type of mean girl.”
Heather’s jaw dropped open in surprise that anyone would talk to her that way. Before she could gather herself to respond, Marnie was already heading for the door. She turned to offer Linzee a wink on the way out.
The two women were staring at her then, and she was sure it wouldn’t take them long to put two and two together. After standing up and gathering her purse, Linzee all but ran out of the coffee shop and around the corner, gulping in breaths of cool air as she tried to calm herself.
Why was she getting upset? Despite Marnie’s defense of her, the younger women were right, weren’t they? Why would Foster go for someone like her when he
had hot young women falling at his feet? The inkling of hope she had for any sort of relationship with him faded. It was ridiculous for Linzee to stay in this situation. She’d made a mistake, and she knew what she needed to do. It was time to cut her losses.
Chapter Ten
When Linzee’s outgoing message played again, Foster had to grit his teeth and restrain himself from throwing his phone across the room. He’d tried calling her countless times last night and this morning, and she still wasn’t answering. He’d left what seemed like a hundred messages, so there really wasn’t a point to leaving any more. She knew he was looking for her. Hell, at this point, he’d be lucky if she didn’t have him arrested for stalking. The thought that she didn’t want to talk to him cut him deeper than he cared to admit.
Ethan had refused to give him her exact address despite Foster’s attempts at bribing and blackmailing his brother for the information. Ethan had just cited some bullshit about privacy laws and said no.
Well, he’d be damned if that stopped him. After checking his messages at the studio, he locked the front door and headed in the direction of Price B&G. Linzee was going to talk to him even if he had to corner her.
The bell jingled as Foster entered Price. The door was open, so hopefully that meant Linzee was there already. “Hello! Anyone here?”
Normally he would have stopped to admire the way the place was coming along, but right now he was laser-focused on one thing only. He’d just made it to the kitchen door when it swung toward him.
Ethan walked out looking grim, and was followed by Linzee. Her eyes were red, and Foster could immediately tell she’d been crying.
“What did you do?” Foster bit out the accusation at his brother. “Why is she so upset?”
Ethan hadn’t been thrilled with him for making love to Linzee in the kitchen of the restaurant, but after giving Foster a thorough reaming, he’d said he was happy that Foster had finally found someone. Ethan and Tori apparently thought they made a perfect couple.