Age Gap Romance: Best of Penny Wylder

by Penny Wylder

In response, the hand he has wrapped around my knees slide up my thighs. I swallow hard at the feel of his hot, strong palm resting against my outer thigh, right where…

  Right where a pocket would be.

  “Well, I’d set you down if I believed you,” he says, his smile growing wider. “But since you don’t have any pockets…”

  “No, Russ!” I let out one last yelp before he tosses me. For a second I’m sailing, and I catch a glimpse of everyone in the deep end scattering out of the way. Then I hit the water and sink into it, feeling myself instantly soaked through from head to toe. When I splutter back to the surface, my mother is laughing with delight, and Russ’s eyes glitter with amusement. He checks me out shamelessly, studying his handiwork.

  “That was so not fair,” I call out as he retreats from the poolside to peel off his shirt. Then my protests die on my lips, because I’m momentarily distracted by the sight of Russ’s shirtless chest.

  Fuck.

  I’ve seen him without his shirt before, of course. Dozens of times, at parties just like this one. My mom always makes everyone who comes over swim, since she says she wouldn’t let Dad splurge on such a fancy addition to the house without taking advantage of it whenever possible. Still, it’s different now, seeing Russ’s cut abs and his sculpted chest, speckled with a faint dusting of hair around his happy trail and across his pecs, just enough to remind anyone looking that he’s a Man, capital letter and all.

  It’s different now, because I look at him, and all I can think is he fucked me. That man was inside me just a couple days ago.

  My whole body goes taut with tension, and it’s all I can do to tread water and keep my head above the surface, because my body wants to sink down under it.

  A few other couples tease at the poolside, a woman pushing her boyfriend in, another pair sliding into the shallow end with their drinks in hand. But I barely even pay any attention. My eyes are fixed on Russ, watching him peel off his jeans to reveal sculpted, muscular legs beneath his trunks.

  Trunks that, I’m pretty sure, would show just how interested in me he was, if given the proper motivation. They fit pretty tightly, after all.

  All of a sudden, I know what my revenge needs to be. I shoot a glance at the far end of the pool, but Mom and Dad are distracted now, sipping drinks and chatting with friends. I duck under the water and grasp the hem of my cover-up. It’s hard to struggle out of in the water, since the fabric is soaked through and clings to my body. But I finally manage to wrestle my way out of it, and I resurface at the ladder into the deep end. I climb up it to deposit my dress on a side table, then turn to face Russ, deliberately slow, letting the water drip off my body, knowing I look good in my bikini with my curves on display.

  Sure enough, the second my eyes find his, I’m rewarded with a flash of white hot lust. He drinks me in, taking his time to size me up from head to toe, his eyes lingering on everything. My chest, my waist, my hips, my legs. When his eyes drift back to my face, I wonder if I’m imagining it, or if there’s a faint bulge already visible in his swim trunks

  Without waiting to find out, I slowly saunter back to poolside and kneel down to perch on the ledge, making sure to turn so my side faces him, and leaning back just a little to let my breasts show to their full advantage.

  Soon enough, I feel warmth at my back, and tilt my head back to find Russ standing behind me, his legs so close they touch the bare, soaking wet skin of my back. My wet hair sticks to his legs, and my head bumps against his shins as he studies me. He’s not even smiling, he’s so busy staring at me.

  With a wink, I slip off the wall and into the pool, practically daring him to come and follow me.

  A moment later, I hear a splash. I surface in the middle of the deep end, and have to swallow a gasp as a warm, familiar hand traces up my thigh to spread flat across my belly, just for a moment. Then Russ surfaces too, a little too close to me, his gaze fixed on me.

  “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Maggie,” he murmurs, his voice pitched low, just for me, so nobody else will overhear him.

  I grin in response. “I know.”

  But I have no idea how dangerous it’s about to get. From the other end of the pool, Mom calls out for attention. “Who wants to play chicken?” She taps Dad’s shoulder, and then swats him again, more playfully, when he pretends to groan. I know secretly he loves it. Nobody brings out my father’s goofy side quite like my mother, and she knows when he needs it most.

  Given how stressed he’s been at the hospital, I’m sure he really does need this time to blow off steam.

  “John and I will go up against the first contender,” Mom is saying, when behind me, someone clears his throat.

  “Maggie and I will play.” Russ. I whip around to stare at him, wide-eyed. Normally the couples all play this game. Is he trying to get us caught? But he just winks at me, and keeps an innocent, wide smile plastered on his face as he paddles toward the shallow end of the pool.

  With one last gasp of worry, I swim after him. But my mom and dad don’t look suspicious or worried. I guess Russ has been hanging out with us for so long that they wouldn’t even think to be suspicious of anything going on between us. Still, it makes my heart race when Russ and my dad shake hands, trading good-natured insults about who’s going to destroy whom.

  Mom flashes me a wink and a grin, before she easily swings her legs around Dad’s neck, and he hauls her up onto his back. They’ve done this so many times that she finds her balance in a split second, like it’s second nature.

  A knot of fear curls in my stomach. But it’s overpowered by the anticipation, as Russ kneels in front of me. I swallow through a suddenly dry throat and reach up for his shoulders. He takes both of my hands in his instead, and I push my weight onto his hands as I swing my legs up his backside to wrap over both his shoulders at once.

  He’s so warm, his muscles tensing under my weight. It makes me catch my breath. Especially when he lets go of my hands. I grasp his head to steady myself, and I’m painfully aware of where my pussy is pressed against the back of his neck, his head nestled into my belly, his hair tickling the soft, sensitive skin there.

  What did I just get myself into?

  My parents’ other friends form a loose circle around us, some cheering and clapping, others just grinning and sipping their drinks. Mom and Dad are frighteningly good at this game. They’re usually the undefeated champs of the night. Which is probably why they always suggest playing it. Mom loves any game where she can dominate.

  It takes me longer than her to get my balance. Feeling Russ move beneath me, and having to adjust my weight and balance in tune with his, feels strangely intimate. Especially when his hands drop to grip my thighs tightly, just bare inches from his own face. I suck in a sharp breath and try not to focus on how good his hands feel pressed against my skin.

  I try not to think too hard about how good his head feels between my thighs, either, or I’m going to start wishing he was facing the other direction.

  “Ready?” Mom calls and holds out her arms.

  I grasp her forearms in the starting position and offer a grin that feels braver than I actually feel right now. “Ready,” I reply, and I’m glad my voice doesn’t quiver the way my body is doing right now.

  Without any more warning, Mom starts to shove at me, hard.

  I push right back, bracing myself against Russ. It makes me grit my teeth, struggling to keep my seat as Mom tries her best to fling me off him, first by throwing her weight to one side, then the next. Dad moves with her every motion, so she’s never thrown off balance by her own attempts.

  After a couple of close calls, where I nearly topple before righting myself at the last moment, and only thanks to Russ’s tight grip on my thighs, I notice that under the water, Mom’s legs are tapping. She gently taps her heel against Dad’s side to indicate which direction she’s going to try to throw me next.

  The next time she does it, I tap Russ on the other side, then throw my weight opposite her. S
he gasps and swears, and nearly loses her seat before Dad skips to one side to catch her.

  “Careful there, old man,” Russ calls out playfully, and I suppress another shiver at the way his voice travels through me when he speaks, with me up on his shoulders like this. It feels like a vibration going through me.

  “Look who’s talking!” Dad calls back, and then he pushes toward us, Mom going on the offensive again.

  I brace hard and manage to twist away from her tackle attempt yet again. I tap Russ on the other side, and we sidestep another attack by our opponents. That’s when I feel Russ’s hands slide a little higher. Just an inch. But a moment later it happens again, his hands inching toward the crease where my leg touches my thighs. My breath hitches.

  It’s enough of an opportunity, apparently. Mom lunges without warning, and I’m too distracted by Russ’s hands. She grabs my forearms and flings me backward, and a moment later, I slide off Russ’s back into the cool waiting water of the pool.

  I resurface a split second later to thunderous cheers and yells.

  Dad and Russ shake good-naturedly, Mom slaps my back and winks. “Better luck next time,” she calls. But I barely even notice, as she and Dad turn to face their next competitor, a younger couple who live down the street.

  I don’t notice, because Russ is behind me, his hands on me again, but my hips this time, drawing me back against him. It’s dangerous. Playing with fire, to stand this close right now.

  “Good game, teammate,” he says softly, and his hands slip down over my hips to grab my ass, tightly, fast. His hand moves again before I can even react, but I suck in a sharp, startled breath.

  Fuck. I want him. So goddamn badly, it’s killing me right now.

  “You threw that game,” I hiss through clenched teeth, after my heart rate calms down again, and my breathing returns to almost normal. “I got… distracted.”

  “I was hoping you would.” His eyes dance with amusement. Then I notice him glance sideways, just a little, quick as a blink. “They’ll be busy for a while…” he points out. With that, he steps back and grasps the rung of the ladder on this end of the pool. Then he hauls himself up and out of the water, shooting me one last pointed backward glance, before he snags a towel and pads through the greenhouse to the sliding door and back inside the house.

  The deserted house, now that the rest of the party are all occupied out here.

  My heart hammers in my chest. I glance around the pool again, at all the people cheering on the game or pouring themselves new drinks or snacking on the sidelines. I hold my breath and wait what feels like an eternity but is probably really only half a minute. Then, pulse racing at what I’m about to do, I swim over to the ladder and climb up to follow Russ inside.

  6

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I breathe, as Russ shuts my bedroom door behind me. “There are so many people down there. Anyone could come back inside at any moment, decide they want to come up and use the bathroom…”

  Russ silences my protests by pinning me against the bedroom door and kissing me, hard. His hands don’t hesitate, not now that we’re alone. They roam down my body, from my chest along my curves to my ass. His palms trace around to grip my ass tightly in two fists, and he pulls me up and against him, until I arch my whole body against his with a groan. Both of us are still wet from the pool, and his skin feels hot and slick against mine.

  Not to mention the rock hard strain in his swimming trunks, begging to be released. God, his cock is already so fucking hard. How did he even manage to walk up the stairs without anyone noticing?

  “It’s a good thing you’re used to being a good, quiet girl, then, isn’t it?” Russ asks me with a wicked grin. From the bedroom walls behind him, my old posters of the celebrities I grew up crushing on stare back at me, almost like they’re egging me on. Because if I could have gotten away with it back in college when I was home visiting on breaks, I would have hung Russ’s face right up there with them. He was every bit as much one of my forbidden crushes as those boy bands and famous actors were.

  Maybe even more so, because I got to see him in person, even if we could never really touch outside of the proper hugs hello or goodbye at parties just like the one my parents are throwing downstairs.

  Suddenly, it feels like that younger version of me, the one who dreamed of this moment for years, is roaring back to life. And I don’t’ care anymore how dangerous this could be, or what my father will do to both of us if he walks in on us right now. He’d fire Russ, yes. He’d probably fire me too, or maybe even go as far as to kick me out of the house. I don’t know for sure. I know he’d want to punish me, and even Mom’s placating influence could only go far if I really pushed him with something this forbidden.

  I don’t care.

  Russ is still watching me with that smile, waiting for a response. So I give it to him. I reach up and wrap both arms around his strong, muscular shoulders, and pull him down against me, as my mouth finds his again. I kiss him harder, desperately. As if I can transfer all my own fear and desire and want into this one kiss. His lips part against mine, and his tongue slips into my mouth, sliding against mine, wrestling for control.

  He finds it again, easily. His hands slide down my curves, and with one swift tug, he lets the towel I’d wrapped around myself back by the poolside puddle at my feet. We’re practically naked now, only his swimming trunks and my skimpy bikini standing between our completely naked bodies.

  It was one thing to fuck him in the stairwell at work, hard and fast, but still with practically all of our clothes on. It’s another to be able to take my time now. To trace my hands over his abs, counting each one with exploring fingers. To feel the way he crushes me against him and spins with me in his arms, toward the distant, narrow twin bed that I grew up sleeping in.

  “I need you, Maggie,” he says, his voice a desperate growl that echoes my own white hot desire in this moment. It feeds my craving like a feedback loop, making the tight sensation between my legs, as my clit begins to physically ache with want, grow more insistent. Knowing that he wants me as much as I want him, that he’s thought about this as often as I have… I can’t explain the thrill I get from of that.

  “You’ve got me,” I whisper, because damn the consequences, fuck how badly this will blow up in our faces if anyone finds out. I don’t care anymore.

  Russ’s smile grows as soon as those words leave my mouth, and then he hoists me without warning against, earning a little squeak of protest from me as he sweeps my legs out from under me. But he doesn’t toss me into the deep end of a pool this time. He just lowers me gently onto my own bed, before he lies down on top of me, slowly, so I can savor every inch of his hot skin, still damp from the pool, as it sizzles against mine.

  The bed really is tiny. I knew that, factually speaking. But it’s another thing to try to share it with another body. Some part of me dimly notes that I’ve never even hooked up with anyone, even someone my own age, in this bed. I was always too terrified of what my father would do if he caught us, even after I graduated from nursing school and returned back here full time. On the rare occasions when I have hooked up with guys in the past, I’ve always gone to their places to do it.

  Which only makes this feel extra dirty and forbidden.

  “You have no idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off of you all night,” Russ murmurs against my neck, as his fingers trace down my sides to my hips. He flattens one hand against my belly and lets his fingertips toy with the hem of my panties. I suck in a sharp breath and try to concentrate on remembering to breathe.

  It’s hard to do that whenever he’s around. Let alone when he’s touching me like this. “You didn’t manage all that well… during that game of chicken,” I point out, only losing my breath once during the whole sentence, and proud of myself for it.

  His grin widens. “What can I say? I slipped.” He leans down to kiss me again, and I let my eyes flutter closed, my lips already parted in anticipation. But he only kisses
the corner of my mouth, his lips tracing down the edge of my jawline next, and along it until he nips gently at the soft, sensitive spot where my ear meets the corner of my jaw.

  I gasp again softly and arch up against him. When I do that, I can feel the press of his cock through his trunks, already stiff and ready for me, swollen with desire. I drop my hands, wrap them around his hips to grip his ass tightly. Fuck, he has a firm ass.

  I drag him down against me and wriggle a little beneath him, so my belly presses against his cock.

  He groans against the crook of my neck, and nips me again, a little harder this time. “Don’t make me leave a mark for your parents to wonder about on you…” There’s a teasing threat in his voice, and it sends a flutter straight to my belly.

  “Russ… We really can’t let them catch us.” He’s been friends with my dad for a long time, yes, and he knows what his temper is like. But he has no idea how protective my father is about me, or how much this would set Dad off. Some part of me is still convinced Russ isn’t aware of what he’s getting into.

  “Maggie.” He draws back from me, just far enough that my chest and stomach feel cold without the warm press of his body against me. I’m still a little damp from the pool, and it makes me shiver in the cool air of my room, goosebumps pricking along my limbs. But when he catches my eyes, I forget about that. I forget about everything but gazing into those deep pools of brown, his expression both sincere and slightly amused. “I know what I’m doing, Mags. I know what I want.”

  Even before he says anything else, those words shiver through me, impossible to ignore.

  “I want you. No matter what the risks are.” His voice is deep, filled with feeling. It makes me wonder if he really has thought about me for as long as I’ve been fantasizing about him. I know he said he’d thought about me like this before, but how often? How intensely?

  The look in his eyes makes me want to find out.

  “Russ…” He doesn’t let me ask, though. Not now. He silences me with another slow, intense kiss, one that has my breath coming short and my body arching up against him. At the same time, his fingers slip under my bikini bottoms, and his index finger traces circles across my freshly shaven mound. He grazes the edge of my clit, and I swallow hard against the moan that rises in my chest.