Beauty of Sunset
Lynne Connolly
Book two of the Cougar Challenge series.
When Edie Howard meets cosmetic surgeon John Sung, she can’t think of anything except getting the younger man naked. Her friends on the Tempt the Cougar blog remind Edie of her promise—to seduce a younger man. It’s time for Edie to take action.
Dr. John Sung takes one look at Edie and knows he can’t operate on her. He signs off as her doctor and makes her a bet—if he can make her love her body as it is, she won’t have any surgery.
John’s bet involves close examinations—and torrid, sleepless nights. Their passion is far more than either expects, and John begins to wonder if he’ll ever get enough of this woman. Edie just counts her blessings and hopes their age difference won’t drive John away.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Beauty of Sunset
ISBN 9781419925573
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Beauty of Sunset Copyright © 2009 Lynne Connolly
Edited by Briana St. James
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication November 2009
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
BEAUTY OF SUNSET
Lynne Connolly
Dedication
To all the ladies of the Tempt the Cougar blog and their creators. To Sam, Dalton, Desiree, Mari F and Mari C. And last, but by no means least, Ciana, for bringing us together. This is the most fun ever!
Author Note
You’ll find the women of Cougar Challenge and the Tempt the Cougar blog at www.temptthecougar.blogspot.com.
Trademark Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Barbie: Mattel, Inc. Corporation
Calvin Klein: Calvin Klein Trademark Trust Business Trust
Dior: Christian Dior Société anonyme France
Gaultier: Gaulme, Société anonyme
Google: Google Inc.
Ralph Lauren: PRL USA Holdings, Inc.
Victoria’s Secret: Victoria’s Secret Stores Brand Management, Inc. Lynne Connolly
Chapter One
Tempt the Cougar Blog:
We’ve been talking about younger men for a while now. I’ve known a few, from male models who can’t see further than their own beautiful asses to photographers who demand favors for good pictures. But I’ve never been to bed with one. They prefer the young vulnerable wannabes, the ones who can’t fight back. I’ve always despised younger men.
But you girls have given me a new way of looking at it. I think you’re right. There are some great younger men out there. You know that a few years back my husband traded me in for a younger model. I know, I know, some of you have the same experience but this bastard keeps waving her in my face.
Time I did something about it. I’m seeing a plastic surgeon next week. It’s taken me a long time to get to this point but I’m taking the plunge. Then watch me.
Comments
Cam: Are you sure you want to do this, honey? Being in the fashion industry makes you super-conscious, I know that, but you’ve held your own for this long why change it now? I’ll call you.
Edie had faced many mirrors in her time, especially naked, but this one was different. This time it was all about her instead of the clothes she wore—or didn’t wear. That made a change.
People didn’t understand that essential difference—they weren’t looking at her, they were looking at Sunset, supermodel, and the Dior or the Calvin Klein or the Gaultier she was wearing, not at Edie Howard. She didn’t even use her first name professionally. She was Sunset or Adelaide, not Edie the little girl from Coventry, England, scared of her own shadow.
So here she was facing another mirror in another large bare room with white walls and large mirrors. The décor had been like this in the designer ateliers so that the master and his acolytes could see the toiles and the gorgeous fabrics clearly. Here it was to see the patient. Her.
She stripped out of the surgical gown and kicked it aside as she took a step closer to the mirror. Time to see herself clearly. Maybe for the last time.
Time had etched lines next to her eyes and between her nose and mouth. Until recently she’d regarded them as well-earned trophies. Her breasts still held up well, though, and despite two children having nestled inside it her stomach remained firm and only slightly rounded.
At least they were allowed curves in her day.
She twisted to view her ass. Not bad for an old broad. It could still do with some refining though. She doubted Victoria’s Secret would want her in its spectacular. Once they would have paid her a shipload of cash and bestowed as many freebies as she wanted on her but these days she bought her own underwear.
She preferred it that way. The modeling profession had been dirty enough in her day but she’d remained in control of her career.
Until this. Maybe she was wrong, maybe she shouldn’t do this. Doubt assailed her again as she looked at the body in the mirror, a body most women her age would be proud of, but used to assessing her body as if it were a separate entity, Sunset rather than Edie, she could see the flaws. And maybe just maybe she could shove it to the man she’d thought she’d loved who hadn’t hesitated to trade her in when a younger more amenable Sunset clone walked by. A shame the bastard seemed to get more handsome with age. The suave cool features, the dark hair which she suspected owed as much to the bottle as her autumn-tinted locks and every line added character instead of age.
Fuck him. He wasn’t worth it. But as much as she knew that, she couldn’t block the raw hurt that nobody but she knew about. Not her first two husbands, still her friends, not her family. Nobody except Cam and now the other women on the blog. They said she should be what she was, not turn herself into a Stepford Wife.
She wished she had half Cam’s confidence. A makeup artist and friend of many years’ standing she’d been the only one horrified when Edie had mentioned the possibility of plastic surgery. Everybody else had been all for it, encouraging her to take the plunge.
Except Cam and the other women on the Tempt the Cougar blog.
She turned back to the mirror and only then saw the man who’d silently appeared in the open doorway. She didn’t even pretend to be startled. Why should she? After the chaos of changing rooms at big runway shows, she could hardly pretend to be shocked by one man staring at her naked body. However gorgeous that man was.
She’d seen photographs of John Sung, plastic surgeon extraordinaire, but she’d never knowingly been
the recipient of that dark intense stare emphasized by his heavy black-framed glasses. No one had ever looked at her like that with a hunger she could almost touch. She’d seen desire before; she’d even seen possession but not starvation.
Not for her surely. John Sung had to be significantly younger than she.
This man reminded her of nobody she’d known before. This was something new. A shudder passed through her and, strangely, embarrassment. He was looking at her, Edie, not Adelaide nor even Sunset. And Edie was embarrassed.
She snatched up the robe and shrugged into it, pulling the belt tight around her waist and turned to face him, tilting up her chin. Only then did he speak.
“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life. I can’t do this to you. Wait here.”
He spun around and left the room.
Chapter Two
Dr. Sung refused to treat Edie and referred her to the man with whom he shared a business, but not a medical list. Just as well really because after that zing between them she’d felt even worse about the procedure. Procedures.
So after an hour with the efficient but clinical Dr. Roubiere, Edie was unaccountably distracted and exhausted. She went home and stood in the shower for half an hour, washing away the lines Roubiere had made on her body telling her what he’d do if she went ahead, where he’d operate.
She traced one of the blue lines just under her breast. He wanted to lift them, maybe remove some of the bulk as he put it. She touched her legs at the lines he’d put there to show her where she’d have minimal marks for a while if she had liposuction on her thighs. Return her to the pre-baby model shape. She’d always regarded her body as her income, an instrument she used to get what she wanted, never part of her. So why did this latest effort feel like a personal criticism, a step too far?
Maybe she was just depressed today. It happened.
A little cheering up. That was what she needed. She reached across to the glass shelves and opened the plastic box labeled “cotton” that didn’t actually hold anything of the kind. It was just the convenient holder for her waterproof toy.
She held the silver marvel in her hand, enjoying the way the smooth oval fit so well there. With a twist she turned it on and it pulsed slowly. Another twist took it to three-quarters strength, a buzz she sometimes used to ease aching muscles after a day in high heels.
That wasn’t what she had in mind today. She eased it over the lines now at last fading under the relentless beat of the overhead fitting. If she went ahead with the procedure, she wouldn’t feel much there anymore. The surgery would destroy nerve-
endings but Dr. Roubiere had assured her he’d minimize the damage inside and out and he was good. That was why she’d chosen them.
But she didn’t think about Roubiere now. She let her mind pass on to the tall devastating figure of his partner, the surgeon who’d refused to take her as his patient. What was his first name? It didn’t matter, not for this. Sung would do. She had no idea what had caused his outburst but that didn’t matter now. He’d help her ease her tension now although he’d never have any idea that he did. Sung would sing for her.
She smiled at her stupid pun, feeling her tension ease further. She slid the small vibrator down her body over her stomach, slightly rounded these days, not hollow as it once had been. It shook a little. Tummy tuck planned, she eased the bullet over the line Roubiere had drawn and watched it melt and disappear down the drain.
Sliding the sleek silver cylinder further down, she teased herself with a slow advance, going further still until she nudged her clit, that peeked through the curls she allowed herself these days. In her model days she’d shaved it all off but now she allowed herself the indulgence of a neatly trimmed bikini-waxed thatch. Now it nestled sweetly between her thighs, honey blonde, hiding secrets she’d never shown to the public. She’d always drawn the line at full nudity. Expensive lingerie had cupped her, revealing evening dresses threatened to expose her but she’d kept her cunt to herself, always. And her husbands, lovers and doctors.
The reminder sent her back to Sung although he’d never be her doctor now. He stood behind her clad in nothing—no make that tight boxers, lovingly revealing a long hard cock, the water drenching the underwear so it was almost transparent. She licked her lips. She’d love to take that treat into her mouth, suck it right down and make him come, refuse to release him, taste the reward he’d give her. But not today. Today he took the bullet from her hand, eased it down between her folds, now wet with more than water, slick with her arousal. Her clit was throbbing, begging for attention but Sung wouldn’t touch it not yet. His body pressed close behind hers, his strong mobile hands working her teasing her.
He pushed ever closer to her opening, sliding the vibrator up one side of her labia and down the other. It wasn’t her holding the bullet now it was him. He moved it past her opening along, around, setting up a circular route until with a vicious twist that drove the bullet up to full capacity he pushed it right inside her.
Her hand went to her clit, unable to stand his teasing anymore but in her mind, he pushed it away and took over himself. She could almost hear his voice telling her to hold on, to let him do it all. So she did. Her fingers became his.
The vibrator had worked its way up to her sweet spot deep inside. She’d always been afraid to let it go that far before, worried she might not get it out but she was so wet now she had difficulty keeping it in. It was barely two inches long but it reached spots few other devices could.
Sung’s fingers flicked and tweaked but orgasm remained frustratingly distant just out of reach. If she didn’t come now she’d burst.
She reached forward keeping her eyes closed. She didn’t need to see to flick the switch that changed the water stream from directly overhead to body wash. If she bent her knees and moved slightly forward—like that—the hard rain drummed over her clit.
“Fuck, oh fuck!” Her cry came from somewhere deep inside as everything exploded. Her clit sent pulses deep inside her body her cunt throbbed and clenched around the bullet sending her into overdrive turning her restless body into pounding waves of orgasm.
Edie stood shaking with one hand against the tiled wall to steady herself, the other fishing inside her pussy for the bullet. It came out easily, nestled in her hand as she held it under the water to clean it.
She rinsed off and exited the shower wrapping herself in thick fluffy towels. She lingered in the bathroom letting her imagination wander again. Now she wanted to slide into bed next to someone, let him hold her and talk over the events of the day before she explored him, maybe fuck him again.
Yeah like that was going to happen.
Chapter Three
Tempt the Cougar blog:
I walked away but I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m like a lovesick teenager and I can’t help wondering if I did the right thing.
Camille: Honey if you’re still wondering then there’s business between you. He’s not your doctor anymore so anything you do is up to you. Maybe he’s wondering the same who knows?
Edie: I think I’ll leave it like it is. Probably ships passing in the night or something like that.
A week later Edie stood contemplating a splash of paint on canvas. She usually liked modern art but this exhibition had left her cold. Even though the splash was a particularly bright blue. Maybe she was getting old or something. She’d felt enervated for a while now.
Then a sense a feeling of warmth swept through her and a voice deep and somehow intimate came from behind her. “Good evening.”
She caught her breath, breathed out slowly and turned around. “Hi.”
John Sung, mouthwatering in a charcoal gray dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck and black pants that she knew had to be designer, probably Ralph Lauren from the cut. His coal-black hair was cut short to shadow the shape of his skull and his clean-cut cheekbones pushed against the gleaming olive skin just below the almond-shaped eyes.
As before, he watched her with a singl
e-minded intensity. She shuddered and resisted clasping her arms around her body in a protective gesture. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable for years. Forever.
Stupid. She shook her hair back off her face and held out her hand. “Nice to see you again.”
A brief touch of his fingers then he was gone but she felt the tingle of the contact and wondered at it.
“Do you like them?”
She glanced around and gave a small shake of her head. “They’re perfectly fine but not precisely my thing.”
“Me too.”
She couldn’t walk away again. Remembering the advice the blog girls had given her she decided to take the plunge. Business between them was far from over she knew that now. “I live fairly close. Come back for coffee?”
“I’d be glad to.”
An old invitation but sometimes it meant just that. She could throw him out if she chickened out but at least she’d know him better, get him out of her system. Or they might just take things a bit further. She’d play it by ear.
Once outside the gallery they passed the inevitable gamut of photographers who were more interested in the young heiress who’d just entered the gallery, and walked away from the event where John lifted his hand and hailed a passing cab. “Dreadful weren’t they?”
She laughed. “Yes but it wouldn’t have been good to say it there. That artist is the latest sensation.”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t live with one of those daubs for long. They’ll be decorating some swish offices downtown before too long.”
That was so much what she was thinking she had to suppress her laugh. He helped her into the cab and she gave her address and leaned back. “Not your offices though.”
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