Why Him?: May December Romance (Mistaken Identities Book 1)

by Rie Warren

  Her hand circled me immediately. “I missed your cock, Jude.”

  My indrawn breath turned into a sharp raw hiss when she pursed her lips and engulfed the head. After that first entry into her sleek hot mouth, the blowjob was hasty and hot and wet and loud.

  I sounded like a wild animal with every long low groan.

  I smeared my thumb across her over-stretched lips, and watched her try to form a smile.

  I could’ve gone cross-eyed, fucking staring at the sex kitten momma gobbling my cock, licking and loving it.

  Cady fucked me with her mouth in a sloppy, slurping, wicked wet rhythm, saliva dripping all over my tool. Veins rippling all over my shaft. Spears of lust spiking all over my body.

  My cockhead swelled until it was drum-tight and dark purple. My balls swung back and forth, and I wanted to get deep enough down her throat so they banged and slapped against her chin.

  It felt like Cady wanted the same damn thing

  “Yes, babe. Fuck yes. Suck that cock. Gonna paint your face in cum.” My quads flexed, my hands tangled in her hair, my hips kicked out as I plunged ever deeper.

  Her moan vibrated to my ’nads, setting off a chain reaction of desperate sensation.

  Then distantly I heard a door bang downstairs.

  Louder and less distant, the sound of Dane yelling, “Mooooom! Luke’s buck-ass naked again!”

  Cady popped off my cock. “Oh Christ!”

  She jumped up immediately, snatched a cloth from the rack. She wiped at her face where drops of precum and saliva dotted her mouth. And Jesus, her lips were stained dark pink and really friggin’ swollen.

  “Fuck.” I stuffed my painfully hard erection into my jeans as fast as possible, wincing because I’d been on the edge of exploding.

  “Shitshitshit,” Cady mumbled, dragging a robe around her body and fastening it at the waist.

  Grabbing my shirt, I blew out a big breath, thankful the shirttails were long enough to cover my obvious straining erection.

  We hustled downstairs. I didn’t know what Cady was gonna say, but I hoped she had something because I was flustered as fuck and still unbelievably turned on.

  I cleared my throat to try to make my voice sound normal. Cady patted down her hair, missing a snarled spot in the back.

  In the downstairs hallway, we caught Dane mid towel-flick against Luke’s bare ass.

  “We were just—” Cady began when the two youngest boys’ eyes swung to us.

  “There was a leak in your mom’s bathroom.” I finished her sentence.

  Aiden barely spared us a glance, nose stuck in his iPhone.

  Dane—the shrewd little dude—looked suspicious.

  Then I lost my train of thought altogether ’cause, yep, Luke was busy waving his little penis around.

  “He does this a lot?” I murmured to Cady.

  “He thinks he’s king of the locker room . . . all the time.”

  “Aaaand that’s why jocks get a bad rap.” I hooked a dubious eyebrow in Luke’s direction. “Hey, kid.” I snapped my fingers to get his attention. “Maybe stop streaking until your pecker gets bigger?”

  Dane cackled loudly.

  Aiden remained unimpressed by everyone and everything.

  “Whatever.” Luke whipped his big beach towel around his waist, not giving a fuck.

  “Go get cleaned up and ready for dinner. Finish your homework,” Cady called out as they scattered. “And don’t forget to hang up your towels!”

  As soon as they scampered upstairs, Cady sighed.

  Then she glared. “That was way too close, Jude.”

  I took a leaf from Luke’s book, shrugging in whatever mode.

  “Never again,” she hissed.

  “Uh huh. Do you need anything else before I head out?”

  “I most definitely do not.” Her scathing tone made me chuckle.

  “Hmmm.” I nabbed her hand in a loose hold. “I sure do.”

  Her gaze flew to my groin, and yep, I was still hard.

  “I’m sorry,” she eked out.

  I tipped up her chin “Oh, don’t be, darlin’. I’m here for you. All for you.”

  “Jude . . .”

  I released her hand. “So, I’ll be at the hotel tonight. I know you must have a regular babysitter for all those nights you met up with me. Call them. Be there.”

  I ambled to the door.

  “You’ll be wasting your time,” she said, quiet but firm.

  ****

  I’d gone to the hotel.

  I’d waited in Room 27.

  I’d been disappointed when Cady didn’t show but not at all surprised.

  I knew she was stubborn enough to stick to her guns. But that was okay. I’d play her long game. I was nothing if not an excellent strategist.

  That didn’t mean I wasn’t pissed off by her insistence we’d never fuck again . . . that we’d never be more than a good lay with no strings attached.

  And I was still horny for the woman especially since I’d had her hot and naked just hours earlier.

  So when I got home, my mood was less than stellar. I made my way up the outside stairs with heavy stomps, then my entrance to the house with a loud bang of the screen door on the porch.

  Followed by yet another slam of the inside door, acting as sullen as Aiden whenever his younger brothers brought up that whole fapping thing.

  “Long day?” Dad sat in his leather recliner, clicking the channels between—if I had to guess—news, NFL, and NCAA football.

  “Ha!” That was the first question I’d ever asked Cady.

  “This got to do with Cady?” he asked, as if he knew what he was talking about.

  “She’s a . . . she’s a . . .”

  “Quite a lady.”

  “A pain in my everything!” I opened the door and booted it shut one more time just for good measure.

  “Since you’re home early on a Thursday for the first time since I can remember . . .”

  I stared at Dad as his clever observation petered to a stop, wondering what he’d already figured out.

  He tapped the TV clicker a couple more times before sliding a sly glance my way. “Yeah, since you’re home early, how about playin’ some dominoes?”

  Shaking my head, I laughed while he heaved up from his chair and steadied himself on his cane. He shuffled to the kitchen, opened the fridge, pulled out a six pack he set on the bar.

  “What? Not Jenga?” I grabbed two beers, popped the tops, and poured his into one of his cups.

  “What’s that thing old folks play?”

  “Golf?”

  Dad snickered, accepting his cup. “Croquet?”

  “Go Fish.”

  “Old Maid.”

  Skunk clattered over to me, tail wagging so hard it hit me on my leg with a thwap thwap.

  “You take Skunk out tonight?” The dog with the mottled fur coat slobbered all over my hand, long tongue lapping at my palm.

  “Sure did. Ran rings around him too.” Dad’s hand shaking, he brought his drink to his lips, but his eyes remained steady on me. “You ever get tired of being a bachelor, Jude?”

  “I think you know the answer to that.”

  “Then never quit.”

  “I don’t intend to.” And so everything was on the table between us with not one single word said out loud.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cady

  TIME MOVED FAST. THE older the boys got, the quicker the days passed. October rolled around, bringing with it more divorce cases, more squabbling couples, and more near misses with Jude.

  He was in my life. In my house. But he was not getting back into my panties.

  I made sure I was never alone with him again. I couldn’t trust myself. Not after the last time—that evening in the bathroom.

  I’d actually wondered if he’d come to work on Friday.

  I needn’t have.

  He was always punctual, decidedly sexy, and too damn good with my kids.

  Add to that, he was temptation
incarnate. Just one look from him, and my knees turned to jelly.

  He only had to drawl my name and I became quivering putty.

  He sapped my will with every smile, his deep dimples, his blue blue eyes, and always, always the reminder of his hard long lovemaking that turned me into a purely sexual being.

  I took sanctuary in work, a daily reminder love didn’t last, men weren’t to be trusted, and Gregory might’ve destroyed my ability to give myself completely to anyone ever again.

  One Wednesday at noon, Joelle knocked once on my door before breezing inside.

  “It’s Thursday tomorrow.” She notched a hip against my desk.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Or should I say Thirsty Thursday?”

  “Not you too?” I shoved my chair back, kicking off my heels and digging my aching toes into the plush carpet.

  “All I’m suggesting is you used to look forward to that particular day of the week. Now you scowl you’re way through it like it’s an Olympic event for Grumpy Cat.”

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now.”

  “How is it I’m older than you?” Pushing off my desk, Joelle dropped a package in my lap she’d hidden behind her back.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s Boss’s Day.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Close enough.” She suppressed a smile, her honey highlighted hair curling around her chin.

  Then she leaned forward and whispered, “It’s a newfangled vibrator.”

  I threw the parcel aside like it’d grown an STD.

  She laughed loud and boisterously, bending over to retrieve the box. “I’m kidding. It’s the bikini you ordered.”

  “I didn’t order a new bathing suit. And most certainly not a bikini.”

  “I know. It’s Boss’s Day,” she repeated, unrepentant. “And today I’m the boss. By the way, how’s Jude?”

  “No comment.”

  “Have you gotten freaky with him lately?”

  “I plead the Fifth.”

  “Oh you funny lawyer.” Sarcasm oozed off Joelle like slow melting molasses. “It’s a half day at school for Aiden, Luke, and Dane, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why don’t you go home? Spend it with the boys? And take your present with you.”

  “Because Jude’s there.” Tucking my feet back into my heels, I rolled to my desk.

  “All the more incentive.”

  “What are you really angling for this time?” I slapped my laptop closed and peered at the interfering woman.

  “If you knock off early, so can I.”

  “And there we have it.”

  “See you tomorrow!”

  ****

  That early October day brought with it eighty degree heat, and by the time I arrived home, my hair was frazzled and my nerves even more on edge.

  I walked inside, standing over an AC vent to let that cool air blow right up my skirt.

  I wasn’t a proud woman when it came to enduring an autumn heatwave.

  Not. At. All.

  Once I’d cooled down, I made my way to the kitchen that could only be described as a total disaster zone. Eyes widening, I scanned the room incredulously. Dishes everywhere. Two open pizza boxes. Empty popsicle cartons. The sweet tea jug sweating and slippery on the island.

  I heard splashing and shouts coming from the pool in the backyard.

  Ignoring the destruction of my kitchen, I opened the fridge. Locating my wine, I poured a full-to-the-top glass then savored the first cool swallow.

  Slipping off my stilettoes, I took my hair down and undid the top couple buttons of my blouse.

  Bare feet padded inside behind me then stopped.

  “Fuck me.” The deep masculine voice must’ve accompanied an appraisal of my figure-hugging skirt that ended just above the knee.

  Hollers echoed from my boys in the pool, and I slowly pivoted, magnetically pulled to Jude.

  He stood, staring, until a sensual half smile tugged one corner of his mouth.

  Good Lord. He was wet from the pool, droplets of water clinging to his skin the way I wanted to. The tiny diamonds of liquid meandered across his jaw-droppingly defined chest and through the smattering of dark hair. More drops gathered, snaking to the tight line bisecting his deeply carved abs. All of which led to his low slung board shorts and the bulge of his cock beneath.

  The delectable cock my mouth watered for.

  I backed up.

  Jude advanced, his eyes hungry and all over me.

  “Is Dane in the pool alone? Everyone knows he’s not supposed to go in unsupervised! He gets scared.” I grabbed at the first excuse I could think of to escape Jude.

  “He’s not alone, and anyway, he’s cool. We’re teaching him to dive too.” Jude managed to corner me against the island.

  I blinked at him, astonished. Dane’s fear had started two summers ago when he’d been attempting a running somersault. He’d slipped on the wet tile, banged his head against the side of the pool, and for a few brief moments lost consciousness there in the water. I still shuddered at the horrible memory.

  But it was Dane who’d suffered a concussion followed by fear of water. A phobia I probably exacerbated by insisting the entire rest of that summer he stay near the steps in the shallow end. After that, wild horses couldn’t get him to go any deeper than his head.

  “How did you coax him into the deep end to show him how to dive?”

  “Told him I got a concussion once too. Playing football.” The vibrant blue of Jude’s eyes roamed over my face. “And that I got back on the field as soon as the doc cleared me no matter how scared I was of getting hurt again.”

  His knee. The injury that ruined his career.

  I looked at Jude with something close to wonder, trying to imagine how he remained so damn determined and, even more unfathomable, optimistic.

  Then I remembered I was done with him. With all men.

  I slipped away from him to station myself near the sink. I sipped more wine, tried not to think about how very close to naked he was, and how very honest he always seemed to be.

  He watched, swiping one big hand across his wet chest. “Sorry we made a mess in here. I’ll clean this shit up after the kids finish swimming.”

  “You don’t swear around the boys do you?”

  He combed his fingers through his hair. And his shorts slipped low enough to point out the delicious grooves that lead to his . . . to his . . .

  “’Course not. Oh, and I talked to Aiden about his cum sock.”

  Wine spewed from my lips.

  I grabbed a handful of napkins and pretended to delicately wipe my gaping mouth. “Aiden’s what?”

  “Told him to wash out his cum sock?”

  I cradled my forehead in my hand. “I can’t even.”

  “It’s normal, Cady. He’s a teen.”

  “Did you have one of those things?”

  “Uh yeah. But I knew better than to let it get all funky.”

  “Oh my Lord.” I drained my glass, and suddenly Jude was close enough to replenish my wine.

  “You told me you never got yourself off, darlin’.”

  “I said I didn’t finger myself.” I sent him my own devious smile.

  His eyes blazed.

  “Not exactly the same thing.” I winked at him over my glass.

  His features turned stark, his grin wolfish. “You need to show me.”

  “You can’t do that.” I wagged a finger at him.

  “Do what?”

  “Give me the dimples.”

  Plucking the glass from my hand, he pinned me against the counter, and his thick cock settled perfectly against me when he bent his knees.

  My hands flew to his chest. “Jude.”

  “Darlin’.” His mouth swooped to mine then deviated just as quickly away.

  He kissed my neck, hands dropping to settle against my rear end. He nibbled up to my ear and whispered my name in that same husky
tone he always used around me. His lips achingly, slowly, ventured back to my mouth, and I met his kiss. Our tongues eased against each other before he pulled back.

  A breath of a sigh left my lips as he drew his hands from me. And when I took up my glass, wine spilled over because of my shaky fingers.

  “Should I clean up this mess too?” He searched my eyes as if seeking out my innermost secrets.

  As if he knew how hot he made me, liquid spilling between my legs, breasts aching to be held by his hands.

  “Please do.” I turned on my heel to leave temptation behind.

  But he was at my back in an instant. Not touching, but close enough his male heat swarmed me and his rumbling voice seared me. “Or should I clean up the juice between your thighs? With my mouth.”

  My breath hitched, and I took halting steps away from him while every instinct in my body urged me to run to him, not from him.

  Upstairs, I opened Joelle’s package and examined the two tiny scraps of material she purported to be a bathing suit.

  I texted her immediately:

  This is not age appropriate!

  Joelle hit me back:

  Wear it or I quit.

  Gritting my teeth, I stripped off. The bikini was made of nothing but three tiny shimmery dark green triangles with gold-tipped tassels at my hips and at my back. Putting on the poor excuse for a bathing suit, I adjusted all my bits several times just to make sure nothing would fall out by accident.

  Then I spun before the mirror, not at all convinced.

  At least my ass was covered up?

  I turned around again, looking at myself with less critical eyes and letting myself feel good.

  I felt sexy.

  And nervous.

  And possibly a little foolish. At my age . . .

  I slathered on SPF 50 sunscreen. Swept up my hair and banded it high. I shoved my feet into my old dingy flip-flops . . . then I kicked them off.

  Downstairs, I took another sip of wine in the kitchen.

  Then I stepped onto the back patio in my daring bikini that bared a lot more skin than I was used to.

  Joelle was wicked, planting seeds. I would not give her another raise for this. But she did have a fashion guru’s eye, I’d give her that.

  Proven when Jude took one look at me then unceremoniously dropped Luke from his shoulders with a cannonball splash.