Falling for My Son's Best Friend: An Age Gap BWWM Forbidden Romance

by Andrea L. Smith

  FALLING FOR MY SON’S BEST FRIEND

  An Age Gap BWWM Forbidden Romance

  ANDREA L. SMITH

  www.andreasmithbooks.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Preview: Falling for a Younger Man

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Hey there sweet thing, can I buy you a drink?”

  Releasing a deep, weary sigh, I turn on my stool to face the smiling stranger. He’s the sixth man to stop by since I’d taken my seat by the bar. I don’t want the attention, not tonight. “I already have one, thanks.”

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t buy you another, right?”

  I scrutinize him before replying. Medium height, dark chocolate skin, nice teeth. I’m big on teeth. It tells me how high he rates his personal hygiene. If he’s got great teeth, it usually means great body odor, too. You wouldn’t believe the men I’ve met who don’t shower often. Ugh. Big turnoff.

  Now, back to Mr. Nice Teeth. Another night, probably, I would have taken him home and devoured him. But I’m getting too old for this one-night-stand shit. Forty-six years old, divorced ten years, I’m on the verge of exhaustion from the single life.

  “Hello…” He’s awaiting my answer with a hopeful smile.

  “Not tonight, sorry.”

  “Another time, then?” He dips into his pocket for his cell phone. “We could exchange cell phone numbers…”

  I give him a tiny smile to ease the incoming blow. “I don’t think so. Have a good night.”

  He shrugs while backing away. “Your loss.”

  “I’ll live.”

  I return to my drink just as my cell phone vibrates on the counter. Glancing at the screen, I see a text from my friend Brooke. Home yet?

  I’d been on my way home from my best friend Karen’s wedding and didn’t feel like heading home just yet. So I found a sports bar on the busy side of town to blow off steam. It’s noisier than I’d like and filled with millennials who were passing the time before the club opened next door. But it offers the distraction I need.

  My fingers fly across the keypad as I type a quick response. Nah. Stopped for a drink.

  Oooh. Tell me all about it tomorrow.

  I’m alone, girl. No hookups tonight.

  Are you ill?

  I roll my eyes before replying. I’m not as promiscuous as Brooke thinks. Yes, I’ve had quite a ride since divorcing Travis, my son’s dad, but there are not as many notches on my belt as she imagines. Not at all, my reply reads. Flying solo tonight. Not in the mood for company.

  Okay boo, do your thing.

  I lock the screen and tuck the phone in my purse before emptying my glass of scotch. Another drink and I’m out of here. Going home to sleep off the self-pity that’s been following me all day.

  I don’t know what’s making me so depressed. Maybe it’s realizing I’m almost fifty, with no man to call my own. Karen’s earlier nuptials didn’t help none. I’m a little envious that she found love so soon after divorcing her cheating husband while I’ve been single for ten years. Not that I don’t share her happiness. After what her ex-husband Thomas did, she deserves to find love with Aaron.

  I don’t think I’d want to remarry. Travis had been a decent husband, and he gave me a glorious life, treated me like a queen for our entire marriage. I’d never seen him look twice at another woman. I thought he had eyes only for me. Little did I know I was just a beard, a cover for his secret life. When he came out of the closet, it delivered a solid, irreversible blow to my ego.

  For years I questioned my womanhood. Why wasn’t I enough for Travis? I did everything to keep our marriage fresh; I kept my body right, got my hair and nails done often, bought the sexy lingerie, turned tricks in the bedroom—everything to keep another woman out of our bed.

  It’s a hoot, really. Well, now it is. Back then, I was a mess. I spent years working to keep my husband from cheating with another woman. Not once did I imagine protecting my marriage from a man.

  Even now, ten years later, there’s still a bitter taste in my mouth when I think of it.

  Now. I’ve forgiven Travis, although it took me a long time and a lot of prayers and tears. But I finally reached a level of recovery and maturity that made me look at him without wanting to bash his head in a wall.

  I even attended his second wedding. For Jude’s sake, really, not Travis'. I wanted Jude to forgive his father, like I’d done.

  Braving the long stares and whispers at Travis’ wedding seemed worth extending the olive branch. Anything to soothe the pain that Jude carried since Travis’ betrayal. It worked. They are thick as thieves again, which is all I’ve ever wanted. Despite what he’d done to me, Travis has never stopped being an awesome dad. Even now that Jude’s a man.

  But, although I’ve forgiven Travis and we’ve developed an amicable relationship, the scars are still there. I still struggle with trusting another man. If Travis, the love of my life, the man I gave my all—if he could hurt me like he did, what chance do I have with someone else? We should have grown old together. We planned it for years, retiring at sixty and taking trips around the world. If he could betray me, who else won’t?

  Should I seek professional help? Probably. Seems a good idea, because I don’t want to die alone. I want to love again. Now is as good a time as any.

  Since my divorce, I’ve been on autopilot. Dating for the heck of it, casually hooking up now and then, never committing. And it’s been working like a charm since then. Until now.

  A sudden uproar occurs behind me; loud, long laughter that breaks my thoughts. Curious, I turn around. There’s a table in a corner of the room with young women who are dressed for the club in tight, skimpy outfits that leaves little to the imagination. I won’t judge. I’d been there twenty years ago.

  A young man sits among them, clearly the center of attention by the way the women settle around him. Good-looking guy, with dark-blond hair and strong cheekbones. His eyes are golden brown. I know this, not because I’m seeing them from across the room. I’ve known Nathaniel Frost since his late teens. He’s Jude’s best friend.

  The huddle of females around him is no surprise. Nate’s been a certified player since I’ve known him, and from his behavior at the table, it seems he hasn’t slowed down. I thought he would get a wake-up call from his father’s death a year ago, when the senior Nathaniel had left the reins of his billion-dollar development company in Nate’s hands. But he’s been wilder than ever; the partying, the women, they increased tenfold.

  Still, he’s young. He has enough time to sew his wild oats, then settle down. It’s the same with Jude; a new girl every month. I don’t object. He’s an adult, turned twenty-six years old a few months ago. But I never want to meet his randoms. I told him straight; “unless she’s your wife-to-be, never bring a girl around me.” He’s been smart. He kept his casuals away.

  I swivel again to look at Nate’s table. The girls are eating out of his hand. He’s always been a sweet talker, that Nate. I’ve been on the receiving end of his advances many a time.

  Innocent flirting, of course. Compliments on my body and my smile. Not once did I interpret it as a serious attempt
to get with me. Nate wouldn’t dare make a come-on to his best friend’s mom.

  As I move to turn back to the bar, he catches my eye and winks. I give him a smile. Within a few seconds, he’s rising from his seat and coming over. I empty my drink as he approaches and waves to the bartender for another. One more, and I’m done. For real this time.

  “Hey, Mrs. C. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” He grins and takes a seat beside me.

  I shoot him a glare sharp enough to slash tires. “Boy, you better get back to your friends before I slap the shit out of you. And for the last time, it’s Alison.” For business reasons, I chose to keep Travis' last name, Conway. The ladies are still riding my ass for keeping that tie to him, but who the hell wants to deal with all that documentation?

  Nate laughs out loud. “I’m just messing with you, Alison.”

  “You’d better be.” The bartender comes with my drink and places it on the coaster before me.

  “I’ll have what she’s having,” Nate says.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, swirling my glass. “This is grown folks’ stuff.”

  He gives me a wicked smile before leaning in. “Oh, believe me, Mrs.—Alison. I’m more grown than I appear.” His eyes dip to his crotch, then back at me. “You should see.”

  I stare at him for a moment, shocked. I can’t believe I heard—or saw right. “That’s a hard pass for me, Nate.”

  “Mhmm..” He draws back. “Coward.”

  “What have you been drinking, talking to me like that?” This is nothing like the subtle flirting that I’m used to. He’s giving me a predatory stare, the kind men give when they want to get into a woman’s panties. I’m not imagining it; Nate’s trying to score.

  But he must be extremely inebriated to make a move like this. Not only am I old enough to be his mom, I’m his son’s best friend. Jude would blow a fuse if he finds out Nate’s coming on to me, drunk or not. Since the divorce, he’s been so overprotective of me, so radical towards the men I dated. I’d hate to think what he’d do to Nate.

  “I haven’t touched a drink all night.” He looks directly in my eyes. “I’m completely sober and shooting my shot.”

  Ok. So I’m the one who’s drunk. Because whatever this is, it's not happening. “Go back to your friends, Nate. You’re asking for trouble.”

  “Turns out I like trouble, very much.” The bartender places the glass of scotch before him and he empties it in one gulp. “I have a feeling you do too.” His voice dips, smooth and sexy, just like his expression.

  My sex flutters at once. I ignore it. “Bye, Nate.”

  “Just admit it. You’re scared.”

  I roll my eyes with a scoff. “Of what?”

  “Me. That you can’t handle me.”

  He’s trying to bait me. I’ll bite, just for fun. “Little boy, I’ve been fucking long before you were born. You can’t handle me.”

  “Prove it.” He bites his lips and leans in again. “Fuck me. Tonight.”

  I swear, I flood my panties. I’m that aroused. But I can’t let it show. “Another hard pass.”

  Nate sighs and reaches for his wallet. He puts some bills on the table, then turns to me. “Deny it all you want, Alison. But it’s stamped on your face. You want me.”

  “Now, that’s a crack of bull—”

  He kisses me, hard, deep, taking me by surprise and stealing my breath.

  Whoa.

  Just… wow.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Nate

  I can’t believe I’m kissing Mrs. C. Alison. My longtime crush since seventeen. The woman I’ve wanted to bang for years. I’m going to hell for this fantasy, I know, but it's worth it. Especially if it comes through. And from her body’s response to me, it seems likely tonight.

  Her thick lips are soft, just as I imagined they would be. And though she resisted at first, she’s kissing me now like a woman starved for days, her tongue dueling with mine. I give as much as I got, maybe more, tasting her with an unmatched zeal. The taste of alcohol heightened the moment, intoxicating me.

  I want to take it further, like I’ve imagined doing since I walked in the bar and saw her perched on the stool, her curves outlined in a sleeveless, shimmering-gold dress with a cut-out showing her gorgeous back. Her loose curls are in an up-do that emphasizes the gorgeous neck that I’ve dreamed about kissing for a long time.

  I’m hitching to rip the dress from her body and run my hands over her smooth, mocha-colored skin before licking her full breasts and sinking my cock into her warm, tight flesh.

  I want her body quivering, gripping the sheets, begging for mercy as I fuck her senseless.

  But, hell, all I get is this kiss, for she’s pushing me away, horrified. “Oh, no. No!”

  Grabbing her purse with a gasp, she slides off the stool and dashes towards the door. I retrieve my wallet once more and place some cash on the counter. “For her bill,” I tell the bartender before running after her.

  She’s easy to follow. The sound of her heels guides me. I find her by her car, rummaging through her bag in a frenzy.

  “Alison—”

  “Stay away from me, Nate.” Her hand shakes as she sticks the key into the car door.

  I lean against the car and move her hand from the keys. “What if I don’t want to?”

  She releases a weary sigh. “Nate, this is out of order.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s a trick question, right?” She turns the key in the door and opens it. “You and me, that’s not happening, okay? So I suggest you head home and sleep off whatever you drank or smoked tonight.”

  My reply doesn’t come in time. The car starts almost instantly, and she speeds off, leaving me with a smile on my face. I love a challenge, and Alison definitely presents one. I’m going to enjoy tearing away her boundaries and taking her. I’m getting a hard-on just thinking about it.

  I don’t know where the sudden boldness comes from. But after years of daydreaming about fucking her, I want the reality. I’m not a horny, inexperienced teenager anymore. I’m a man who knows his way between the sheets. I wanted to show her how.

  I take my time heading back to the bar, just to cool off. By the time I get inside, all I want to do is leave. There’s no longer any vibe for the club tonight. Nor do I have an appeal for Mika, my date. She’s totally hot; long-legged with waist-length red hair, perfect for fisting while slamming her from behind. But none of that contributes to the exhilaration I feel inside. Alison, she’s the one. I haven’t felt so alive since my dad died.

  This is what I’ve been searching for; this feeling, the distraction from my grief. One kiss from Alison lifts my spirits, excites me. I need more of that balm for my soul.

  I’ve wanted Alison since my nineteenth birthday, when she showed up to my pool party wearing a sexy red bikini I still can’t erase from my mind. I remember watching her on the lounger with her friends, laughing, her hair bouncing on the wind, her brown skin glistening from the sunscreen and sun. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  It wasn’t the short-term lust I expected. It grew over the years, stronger, hotter. I tried to ignore it, and when that didn’t work, I chastised myself for harboring the attraction. She’s Jude’s mom, for hell’s sake. He and I are like brothers. The last thing I’d want is to ruin our friendship because I can’t keep my dick in my pants.

  But that was then. Now, I realize the feeling won’t go away unless I do something about it. What I want to do is take her, see the passion in her eyes before I enter her. I want to reduce her to a quivering, needy mess, begging for more.

  To hell with the consequences. I’ll deal with them later.

  I’m going after her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Alison

  I can’t believe this. I can’t freaking believe I kissed Nate. What the hell was I thinking?

  God, no.

  I should have sent him away the minute he began flirting. I shouldn’t have entertained him. But it was so intriguing, his teasing, that I
let my guard down. And when his lips touched mine, it shocked me, but not enough to stop him. I let him in without a moment’s thought.

  Damn… can he kiss! I underestimated him, no lie. But I’ve never been kissed so good in my life. His mouth does wonders, wonders I tell you. My sex still throbs whenever I think of it.

  Why am I thinking of it, though? And why do I still want more? No good can come from wanting or being with him.

  I’ve had too much to drink. Maybe I’m the one who needs to sleep off this insanity.

  That’s it. A great night’s sleep, a fresh start tomorrow with all my senses intact. I’ll forget this night ever happened.

  ***

  “Alison? Are you okay?”

  I shake my head to clear it as my assistant Kelly’s face comes in view. She’s standing before my desk with a folder and a curious expression. I give her a tiny smile. “I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure? Because I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

  “Sorry. Just got a lot on my mind.” A pair of golden eyes, Six feet, blond-haired trouble. The kind that’s been keeping me up at nights. Ever since the kiss, I can’t stop thinking about Nate. And it’s nowhere near innocent, the things I want to do to him.

  I’ve been battling with lust and guilt all weekend. Now, it's taking over my workspace. I can’t seem to concentrate on anything since I got in, and there’s a high volume of work waiting for me to sift through. Running an advertising and PR firm is no joke.

  When the board promoted me to the helm of Brand & Beyond eleven years ago, the company had seen better days. My predecessor had left a mess that took me years to fix. The miracle worker, they call me, within and outside the company. I’ve spent years improving the image and profit margin for tons of companies, cementing our firm as the number one solution for any failing business.

  I’m proud of my work. It’s my second child, a part of me just as much as Jude. I can’t afford to neglect my baby because of my longing for a restricted cock.

  “Ok,” Kelly says, placing the folder before me. “Meeting with the executive team is at eleven.”