Young Enough (The Age Between Us Book 2)

by Charmaine Pauls

As her ass clenches on my finger, she increases her struggles, but it’s hopeless. I’ve got her exactly where I want her. Close to coming. Her hips rock forward, and her eyes roll back in her head. A few more manipulations of my thumb, and she comes undone. I ease up on her neck as her abdomen contracts. She gulps in air. Her pupils dilate. I stop rubbing her clit, but I keep my thumb there, making her ride the ecstasy until it cripples her, until she sags in my hold and her back slides down the window. I’m not gentle when I extract my fingers. The risk that I’ll start fucking her all over again is too big. The sooner I get my hand off her pussy, the safer. Before she can hit the ground, I catch her around the waist, dragging her body hard against mine. I want to make her ride my cock just like that, but it’s close to nine, and Candice will soon do the tea round.

  Testing her balance, I let her go. She slumps against the window, her chest heaving and her pretty lips parted. Her hand goes to her neck, drawing my gaze to the marks my fingers have left. I shocked her, but she liked it. Her wetness and climaxes don’t lie. It’s as if she comes to life in the next second. She pulls down her dress, straightens her jacket, and smooths a hand over her hair.

  Like nothing happened.

  “Don’t do that,” I grit out.

  “What the hell, Brian? Are you out of your mind?”

  “Don’t make like you didn’t just come the hardest in your life.”

  “We’re in my office,” she says through gritted teeth, “and you need to leave it now. This is a limit for me. You know that.”

  That’s it. That’s exactly it. It’s not about the thrill of getting off in the office or getting caught. It’s about that itchy, niggly, fucking damn limit.

  “I’m tired of this.” I motion between us.

  Her breath catches on a hitch. “This? Us?”

  “I’m tired of hiding.” I’m crowding her, not giving her space to move away. “I’m tired of being your dirty little secret. I want to be able to show my affection for you openly, no matter who the hell is watching.”

  She’s quiet for a moment, her palms pressed flat on the window behind her. “Voyeurism isn’t my thing. I know you said–”

  “I don’t mean it literally. I don’t mean I want to fuck you with my fingers no matter who walks through that door. I want to hold your hand in public. I want to sleep next to you and wake up with your face on my pillow.”

  The weight of my statement drags me away from her. I take several steps back, giving her the distance she craved earlier. She remains plastered against the window, her face ashen.

  Threading my fingers through my hair, I let my chest deflate, allowing the air to turn cold with the space between us. My voice is as despondent as the rest of me. “No more hiding.”

  A tremble runs over her body. She speaks so softly I have to strain my ears to hear.

  “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

  “No, Jane.” Defeated. I sound like what I feel, because there’s the truth for you. “I’ll take whatever you’re giving.” Stripped naked to the bone. “That’s how desperate I am for you.”

  The seconds stretch on as we stare at each other, me vulnerable and her holding all the power. I’ve fucked her weak against the backdrop of everything she stands to lose, but I’m the one on my knees.

  It’s not her words that pour into my questions and fill them up, it’s her silence.

  Goddamn, it hurts.

  I break first.

  I’m the coward who walks away from the pain.

  2

  Jane

  My body shakes so badly I battle to walk back to my desk. Flopping down in the chair, I wrap my arms around myself. I’m breaking apart inside. Brian is a man of his word. He means what he says. He’ll take what I give, even if it hurts, and I don’t want to hurt him. I’ve been cruel. I saw it coming, and I did nothing to stop it. I selfishly took the physical release he gave me, knowing very well his actions went way beyond. Installing security equipment, finding me a place to rent, moving my furniture, these aren’t acts of a man who’s only in it for the sex.

  I lean my head against the cool surface of the desk, inhaling the fragrance of wood polish. It’s not that I’m hurting less than Brian. It’s that my guilt is bigger. Yes, I knew every step of the way where this was going to lead. To a futile dream and a dead end. There are many problems facing me, the biggest being the Monroe account, but I can’t think. I can’t operate. I can’t do anything but feel, feel, feel.

  It’s agonizing, but I’m grateful. For how long have I prayed for this during my long, emotionless existence after Evan’s death? To feel something. Now I do. In abundance. So much so I can’t function.

  Picking up my phone, I dial the only person I can. Dorothy.

  “Jane, this is a surprise.”

  “Are you free?”

  “What, now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have aqua gym, but I can wiggle out of it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t. Where do you want to meet?”

  We agree on a nearby tearoom. Thirty minutes later, we’re sat across from each other. I stopped to buy a scarf from the clothing store next-door to hide Brian’s marks on my neck and am only a couple of minutes late.

  “What’s going on?” Dorothy asks, getting straight to the point.

  I don’t have time to waste either. “I met someone.”

  “I knew it.” She flicks her fingers. “There was something different about you the last time we met.”

  “He’s half my age.”

  “Oh. Like twenty-one?”

  “Nineteen, actually.”

  “Oh. So, it’s the sex.”

  “Why does everyone assume that?”

  “Sorry. You’re right. That was a horrible cliché. Is it? The sex?”

  “Yes and more.”

  “You like him.”

  “He likes me, too.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “He wants to go public.”

  “I see.” She leans back and studies me. “You don’t.”

  “We work together. What do I tell Abby? How will his friends look at me when we go out on a date?”

  “Those are obstacles, not reasons to shun a potential relationship.”

  “A relationship going where?”

  “Not all relationships are meant to go somewhere. It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy each other while it lasts. You’re both single, consenting adults. Why do you care about your colleagues, his friends, or even Abby?”

  “Abby’s my daughter.”

  “Your daughter needs to understand that you’re more than a mother. You’re also a woman.”

  “She may be too young to grasp that.”

  “I think you underestimate her. She’s almost thirteen, not three.”

  “Are you saying, I should give it a shot?”

  “I’m saying you should do what you want. You bloody hell earned it, don’t you think?”

  “Did I?”

  “Jane,” her voice is stern, “you’ve been mourning a man for years, and you’re still paying for a mistake that…” She swallows and blinks away a tear. “A mistake that’s mine.”

  “Dorothy, please.”

  “Let me finish. You married a man you didn’t love because he took advantage of you when you were weak.”

  “Dorothy!”

  “I’m not bloody done. You’ve been living dead. I’ve seen you more alive the last time we met than in twelve years. If you’re making up excuses because you’re afraid of getting hurt, grow up. What you and this man of yours do has nothing to do with anyone but the two of you. If you want to announce it to the world, go for it. If you enjoy sex with him, I hope it’s a blast. If it doesn’t last, own it. No one can judge you for it.”

  “Wow.”

  “It’s not what you wanted to hear?”

  “I don’t know what I expected.”

  “That’s not true. You expected me to give you the trut
h, and that’s what I’ve done.”

  “Damn.” I reach for her hand. “You should’ve been my mother-in-law, you know that?”

  “Instead, you have a friend.” Pain flashes through her eyes, but she frowns it away.

  “I’ve been trying to do the right thing all my life.”

  “I know. This is a good time to stop. If you want to sleep with the king of Andorra, it’s nobody’s business.”

  I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face. “Who’s the king of Andorra?”

  “I don’t know. Hopefully, someone Spanish and handsome and filthy rich.”

  This makes me laugh. The heaviness lifts from my chest. “Thank you, Dorothy.”

  She gives my hand a squeeze. “Shall we order? And I need to go to the powder room. All that talking made my lipstick run into the wrinkles around my lips.”

  I watch her as she makes her way to the ladies’ room. I know she’s escaping to go wipe away her tears, and I grant her the space. I love her so darn much, I dare say more than I loved my own mother. I’ve loved her from the word go, which is why I’d do just about anything for her, why I’d done what I did.

  I feel considerably better when I get back to the office. Brian looks up from his desk in the open-plan space when I enter. His eyes darken when they fall on the scarf around my neck.

  I run my fingertips over his desk as I pass. “We need to talk.”

  He catches my wrist. “When?”

  Candice looks our way. Her attention hones in on where his fingers are locked around my arm. A few others are staring, too.

  “After your exam.”

  “Before.”

  I know that obstinate look. He’s not going to budge, and I don’t want to argue in front of the whole floor of workers.

  “I’ll ask a friend to pick Abby up from school.”

  He releases me slowly. “Five o’clock, when we knock off. I’ll wait.”

  All eyes are on me as I enter my office. I shut the curious stares behind my door and sit down to get some work done.

  The minutes tick by like hours, every other priority dimming in the light of what lies ahead. When five o’clock finally comes, I’m a nervous wreck. This can be our beginning, but it can just as well be our end. I’m not sure how Brian is going to take it.

  We take his truck and drive to our favorite dead-end road. He cuts the engine but doesn’t look at me.

  Gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turn white, he says, “Talk, Jane.”

  “No more hiding.”

  He turns his head toward me quickly, releasing his death grip on the wheel. “Do you mean that, or are you saying so because I pushed you into a corner?”

  “I mean it.”

  One by one, his muscles give until his posture is relaxed.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you make the decision?”

  “Isn’t it enough that I made it?”

  “No. I want to be sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

  “I was–am–afraid of getting hurt.”

  He twists in his seat and cups my cheek. “So am I. You have no idea, but you’re worth the risk. I’m not going to hurt you. You have my word.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’m not letting you go. No matter what.”

  It’s a serious statement, one that requires commitment, and not just the sexual I-won’t-run-around-on-you kind of commitment, but the kind that comes with death doing couples apart. Something about it lodges in my mind, like a red flag waving from very far, in sight but out of grasp. I don’t take time to analyze it, though, because he grips my face between his palms and kisses me hard. My knees turn weak as he spears my lips, eating my mouth exactly like he goes down on me–like it’s never enough. I moan when I run out of breath, pushing on his shoulders for air.

  He lets me go an inch. His gaze is intense as it settles on my face. “How long do we have?”

  “Loretta said Abby could stay for dinner.” Setting me aside almost brusquely, he starts the engine. “Where are we going?”

  “To get your car.”

  It’s hard to hide my disappointment. “Already?”

  “Then we’re going back to your place.”

  My stomach flutters. I’m a puddle of pathetically happy endorphins.

  He throws the truck into gear.

  “What about your studies?” I ask. “And Sam and your mom?”

  “My studies are up to date. I have a friend watching out for my sister and mom. I’ll be home in time to make dinner.”

  My heart swells for the man he is, because even if he’s barely past the legal age, he’s more of a man than most men I know.

  Brian

  Peak hour is past when we get back to the office. It doesn’t take us long to drive to the cottage. The minute Jane closes the door behind us, I tell her how the evening is going to go down.

  On my terms.

  I need this.

  To give her the freedom she deserves, the freedom in which she will blossom and thrive, I need her to surrender her control. Even freedom has borders. Rules. These are my rules. She’ll stay with me, and she can do and have whatever she wants. I’ll do whatever it takes.

  “I want to take you,” I say, watching her from the door.

  She stands in the middle of the lounge. A lamp illuminates the space. The light makes her platinum hair glow.

  “I want you, too,” she whispers.

  “I wasn’t finished.” I close the distance so that I can undo the knot of the silk scarf around her neck. I want to see the marks I left on her skin. It’s depraved, but I like it. “I want to take you from behind.”

  She stares up at me, waiting for me to continue.

  “I want to take you from behind with a butt plug stuck in your tight little ass.”

  Her breathing accelerates then stops as I brush my knuckles over the hard tips of her tits.

  “I want to take you from behind with a butt plug in your asshole and film every dirty minute of it.”

  She inhales on a gasp.

  “And you’re going to let me,” I finish.

  “I–I don’t know.”

  Reaching for the zipper on the side of her dress, I pull it down. “What don’t you know?”

  “I’m not sure about the filming.”

  “You’re going to love it.”

  “Brian–”

  “You trust me, remember?”

  She catches her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Do you trust me, Jane?”

  There’s no hesitation. No reflection. “Yes.”

  Her trust is the most powerful aphrodisiac. It gives me the control I crave, the power I need to give her freedom within a prison she doesn’t know she’s in. It doesn’t matter. I’ll make her prison a castle. She’ll be my princess. Forever.

  “Say it again.” It sounds like a command, but it’s a plea.

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “Good.” I let her go, having initiated the undressing. “Take it all off.”

  She slips the dress over her arms and down her hips. Her underwear is the same color as her skin. I can guess the darker patches of her areolas and pubic hair through the lace, and it turns me harder than what I already was.

  Her shoes follow next, and then the thigh-high stockings she favors. Her breasts fall free when she unclasps the bra. Firm and perfectly shaped with that slight downward dip, they’re the prettiest curves I’ve seen. Her pussy lips are hidden under golden hair, but I know she’ll be wet and tight on my cock.

  My voice is gruff. “Hands and knees, on the bed.”

  I get a full view of her tight ass when she turns for the bedroom. My cock leaks pre-cum already. It’s going to be hard to hold myself back.

  Following in her footsteps, I’m the voyeur who watches as she obeys my command. She crawls onto the mattress, ass in the air and legs spread. The sight sends my libido into overdrive. Her pussy is a
lready blushing pink and swollen. Moisture covers the outer lips. I place my phone on the nightstand before undressing quickly. Naked, I round the bed, dragging a palm over her back and slipping a finger down her crack to her slit.

  “Do you have a butt plug?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Your vibrator will do.”

  “I’m not sure–”

  I slap her ass. Hard. She yelps.

  “You trust me,” I remind her, massaging the sting away. “Say it.”

  “I trust you.”

  I’ll wring those words from her as many times as I have to, just because they’re music to my ears and fuel to my lust. Opening her nightstand drawer, I withdraw the toy and lube before climbing between her legs.

  She glances at me from over her shoulder when I squirt a generous amount of lube down the crack of her ass.

  “You’re going to love every minute.” I want to reassure her, because she’s tensing up. “Take a deep breath. That’s good. Now blow out.”

  When she exhales, I penetrate her ass with one finger. She wiggles a bit, but she takes me easily. A few pumps relax the tight ring of muscle, enough to stretch her with two fingers. It’s not a big vibrator. She’ll take it without pain. She moans when I pull out. Lubricating the vibrator, I push the tip against her anus.

  “Deep breath.”

  She obliges. The blunt head spears her little rosebud. It takes more work to fit the rest, but I take my time. I don’t want to tear her. When we get to the thickest part, I pinch her clit, rolling the nub between my forefinger and thumb. She arches her back and clenches her ass, sucking the toy deeper and past the thickest part.

  I love playing with her like this. I love looking at her like this. She’ll get on all fours and dirty for me just because I want her to. Me, I’ll do anything for her.

  “How are you doing, princess?” I ask, smoothing my palms up her back.

  “Good.”

  I flick the switch on the vibrator, going straight for the highest setting.

  Her back dips and her muscles tighten under my hands. “Oh, my God.”

  “Better?”

  “Y–yes.”

  I knead her shoulders and massage her back until her body relaxes again, telling me she’s adapted to the sensations in her ass. Dripping more lube around the intrusion in her asshole, I pull it out an inch and slide it back in. Her moan is the sign that she’s enjoying this, that she can take more. I start fucking her ass gently with the vibrator. The tight ring stretches to take the toy, and my own ass clenches at the erotic sight. I study her pretty pussy from every angle as I make her ass work for me. Slipping the toy in all the way, I twist left and right before giving two shallow pumps. I find her clit and flick a finger over the nub while repeating the rhythm in her ass. A few seconds like this, and her arms collapse. She goes down on her elbows, her face sideways on the mattress.