Wreck Me: An Older Man, Younger Woman Standalone Romance Page 7

  Her words cut me deeply, but I know it’s her own pain that makes her want to slice me open.

  “I don’t have to travel much anymore,” I tell her. “Now sit your ass down.”

  Her green eyes, just a shade darker than mine, widen in surprise at my tone, but she does as I ask, so I let her arm go.

  “I know your mom didn’t badmouth me. Holly wouldn’t do that. So when did you start hating me?”

  “How could I hate you when you were never around?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest like a sullen teenager. “I hated how you suddenly started trying to be a father, after years of not giving a damn.”

  “I always gave a damn, even if I couldn’t be with you!” I tell her. The redhead, Allison, starts to come back into the dining room but decides against it, turning around and hightailing out of sight again.

  “Did you think I wanted your mom to up and leave, taking you all the way across the country?” I ask her.

  “Yes,” she mutters. “You could’ve tried to make her stay, but you didn’t give a shit.”

  Sighing heavily, I run my fingers through my hair to try and calm down before I lose it. “That’s not what happened. At all,” I say, with tears stinging my eyes. “I begged Holly to stay. I got down on my hands and knees and pleaded with her, but she had made her mind up. She wanted to get away from me – said she needed to be with her family – so I let her take what little money we had and go.”

  Expression softening, Sara asks, “And you just sent me off with her?”

  “Your mom couldn’t bear to leave you, and because I loved her and wanted her to be happy, I let her take you.”

  “Why didn’t you come with her?”

  I shake my head. “She made it clear that our marriage was over. And my life hasn’t always been like this,” I say, gesturing around to the house and the amazing beach view right outside the window. “When your mom and I got married, we didn’t have much of anything, so to get you both to California took every cent we had. My job here at the bar wasn’t much, but it paid the bills. Barely. I lived paycheck to paycheck. If I had anything leftover, maybe I would’ve tried to follow her, to start my own life out there, but I didn’t. Not until about eight or nine years ago.”

  “Mom said you paid child support,” Sara says, her eyes lowered to her mostly empty plate.

  “I did. I sent all that I could,” I assure her. “And I’m not telling you this because I want you to blame your mother. No one is to blame. We both made decisions we can’t take back. I just want you to understand, now that you’re an adult, that sometimes those decisions are not the ones we want to make, but we have to make.”

  “Can I go now?” she asks and I blow out a breath of disappointment that we’re not getting anywhere.

  “Yeah, go,” I tell her, slouching back in my seat in defeat.

  Just when Sara’s about to walk out of the room, she stops. Without looking at me, she says, “Thanks for dinner.”

  “You’re welcome,” I tell her, but she’s already gone.

  Chapter Ten

  Riley

  The hours crept by slowly while we were out at the bar. Guys bought us drinks, which I refused, and drank my water, just counting the seconds down until Sara decided we could finally leave and go home.

  Back at the house, Allison decided to watch some television in the living room, so I had to wait for her to give up and go to bed.

  Finally, at one-thirty, after the house has been silent for at least half an hour, I can’t wait any longer.

  Dressed in my black satin, short-sleeve pajama top and tiny shorts, fresh from a shower, I tiptoe out of my room and through the living room to get to the stairway to heaven. When a few steps creak underneath my feet, I wince in worry that Sara or Allison will hear, but then decide that if they do, they’ll just assume it’s Brody.

  As soon as I make it to the top floor, I let out a happy sigh. This is the first time I’ve been up here and the high ceiling space is just as incredible as the lower level. There’s another massive living room with a sectional and an entertainment center, and doors leading to the upper level balcony over the ocean. Then there’s a door that’s cracked open, with warm light spilling out of it.

  Hoping he’s still awake and hasn’t given up on me, I hurry over and push the door open.

  “Wow,” I mutter in surprise at the enormous bedroom with dark cherry wood furniture. It’s filled with lit candles glowing all around, and the sliding glass door is slightly open to allow the ocean breeze inside, causing the curtains to dance to the soft music playing from an unknown source. The four-poster king-sized bed looks incredibly inviting with a thick, cream comforter stamped with the outline of navy blue seashells all over it. And finally, there’s the handsome man underneath it, his hands propped up behind his head, displaying his massive biceps, a smile on his face as he watches me take in the room.

  “Hey,” I say softly, feeling nervous with him for the first time. This set-up looks…romantic and sweet, which isn’t what I was expecting as I anxiously waited to get up here tonight.

  “Hey,” Brody says. “Join me?” He lifts the edge of the covers, revealing his naked perfection and holding out his hand, inviting me into his bed.

  I start to go to him but then I remember I’m still wearing pajamas. I want to be rid of them so that I can feel his warmth and hard muscles against my skin. While he watches, I flick open each button, moving down the line of my shirt until they’re all undone, then roll my shoulders to discard the top. Next, I hook my thumbs into the sides of my bottoms and lower them slowly to the floor.

  “Don’t make me wait any longer,” Brody’s deep voice rumbles, so I saunter over to the side of the bed and climb in next to him. We’re on our sides, facing each other, when he grabs my hip and starts to kiss me, but I soon end up on my back, a massive man on top of me, my fingers tugging on his floppy hair that I love. My hips cradle him as he dominates me, engulfs me, making me feel like his.

  As we kiss, everything else in the world disappears, except for the two of us. And I love it.

  Most men would’ve penetrated me as soon as their cocks made contact with the slam dunk goal between my legs, but Brody doesn’t get in a hurry, even though he must feel how wet and ready I am for him. His lips and tongue just continue exploring mine like it’s the very first time.

  When he eventually pulls away, holding himself above me with his hands planted on either side of my head, his green eyes stare down at me, searching my face silently. After a moment, his fingers come up to stroke my jaw before he says, “You’re so fucking beautiful. I want to photograph every second with you to make them last forever.”

  For the first time in my life, this man somehow managed to take my breath away with just a few words.

  “So photograph me,” I encourage, combing my fingers through his dirty blond locks.

  “Really?” he asks, a heart-stopping grin spreading across his face.

  “Yes. I trust you.”

  “You trust me to photograph you like this? Naked?” he clarifies with an arched blond eyebrow while his eyes follow as his fingers trail down the center of my chest.

  “Of course. You’re an amazing photographer,” I tell him honestly, bringing one of my hands down so that my fingernails can stroke the side of his face. The rasping sound of Brody’s soft stubble makes my belly clench, reminding me of how it tickles my inner thighs.

  “How do you know I’m any good?” he asks, his eyes snapping back up to mine.

  “I’ve seen all of your photos in the house, and others on your website. You don’t just capture still images, you put your heart and soul into them. I want you to do that to me.”

  “Thank you. That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” he replies, placing a quick kiss on my lips. “Photography is my passion and I don’t think anyone has ever understood how important it is to me. Not because of the money I make, but because I love it.”

  “I know all about how passionat
e you are,” I say, while reaching down to wrap my hand around his heavy, swollen cock when I can’t handle any more of the serious discussion. “You’re so passionate that sometimes it overflows and spills out of you.” I wink as I rub my thumb over his leaking slit.

  Closing his eyes and groaning, he says, “You seem to have that effect on me.”

  “I would rather have you inside me,” I tell him as I guide his cock to my entrance. Brody’s gaze is locked on mine when he enters me. And other than his lips parting in a gasp, he doesn’t say a word as he starts to slowly rock his hips, fucking me gently while he watches my face.

  This time is different from the other two times, that were hard and fast. Now, Brody’s not in a hurry or chasing his release. It’s like he’s trying to savor it, make it last. With him taking his time, I’m even more aware of every thick inch of him sliding inside of me with each controlled stroke, filling me up until I’m certain I’ll burst.

  “Not yet,” Brody says causing my eyes to lift to his. “We’re gonna ride this one out together.”

  He drags his cock free leisurely before torturing me again with the gradual fullness.

  “What are you doing to me?” I ask trying to squirm underneath him, to work my pussy on his cock to get the pressure I need to find for my release

  Grabbing my wrists, one at a time, from around his neck, Brody pins them on the pillow above my head and bears more of his weight down on top of me.

  He leans down to kiss me, then captures my bottom lip and nips at it.

  “I’m trying to make love to you, but if you keep wiggling like that, I won’t last very long.”

  Air whooshes from my lungs in a gust of breath, hearing the L-word.

  No, that’s just a phrase women like to use to make sex sound less dirty, and men go along with it to assure them that it’s more than two bodies creating friction. But that’s all sex is. Especially when it’s with a man you just met three days ago.

  “Just fuck me,” I tell him, wanting it the way it was before.

  “Relax, Riley,” Brody says. “I want to take my time with you for once. You deserve more than a quick fuck.”

  …

  Brody

  Riley is a hellcat in bed. I like that about her, but for once, I want to go slow instead of rushing to the finish line.

  She’s not having any of that, based on the hard set of her jaw.

  “I don’t like it this way,” she says, her eyes now avoiding mine.

  I’m losing her and I don’t understand why. She hasn’t told me to stop. In fact, she told me to just fuck her. So, either she’s bored and not enjoying herself, or she’s uncomfortable with the tenderness.

  “What way do you like it?” I ask, stilling my hips until I figure out what’s going on with her. When she doesn’t answer, I say, “You prefer it when I treat you like a slut?”

  “I am a slut,” she replies coolly, her blue gaze so cold when she looks up at me again that it turns my blood to ice.

  “You’re not a slut.”

  “How would you know? You just met me, and we’ve already fucked three times,” she replies. “Doesn’t that prove what I am?”

  “No, it doesn’t prove anything,” I tell her sternly, hating the self-deprecating way she’s talking about herself.

  “Threesomes, gang bangs, you name it, I’ve done it,” she declares proudly, but the tears swimming in her eyes contradict her words.

  “Riley–” I start, finally letting her wrists go because seeing her get upset is breaking my heart and leaving me speechless.

  “What? Is hearing all that a turnoff? You want to pretend that I’m only a slut for you?” she asks.

  “No,” I reply. “Nothing you could say would change how much I want you,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t care who you were with before or how many lovers you’ve had at once. None of that matters because, right now, it’s just you and me sharing something special in my bed. And that’s true, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.”

  “When you say special, I think you mean secretive. Sneaking around and fucking when we’re not supposed to is what this is and why it’s so hot.”

  “So there’s nothing different about me? I’m just another fuck?” I ask her, my jaw clenching while my ego waits for the blow to it.

  It doesn’t come.

  Riley turns her head to the side of the pillow, refusing to say another word. Instead, a single tear races down her cheek, giving me my answer.

  She’s scared of opening up or getting close to anyone, so being defensive is her coping mechanism.

  Not wanting to push her any further and upset her even more, I kiss her damp cheek and push myself up off her chest, starting to pull my cock out of her.

  “Brody, wait,” Riley says, grabbing both sides of my face to stop me.

  I freeze above her, waiting to hear what she’s going to say. Instead of talking to me, she pulls my face down to hers and kisses me hard, showing me what I wanted to know rather than using words.

  After that, I make love to her, needing to be inside of her as deep as I can get; not just her body, but her heart and soul.

  Neither of us speak another word as our bodies move together, letting them say all that we need to with their warmth and closeness.

  When I finish, I don’t immediately move off of Riley, wanting to kiss her and enjoy the afterglow for once, instead of rushing to get dressed and leave.

  Finally, knowing I’m heavy and likely crushing her, I lay down next to her on my side, but keep my arm around her waist.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” I tell her honestly.

  “Well, you better try,” Riley says, rolling to her side to face me, her hands tucked sweetly under her cheek. “We’re leaving in a few more days.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I grumble. “After earlier, this may be the last time Sara visits.”

  “So…your talk didn’t end well?” she asks, stroking my bearded jaw.

  “You heard, huh?” I ask with a wince, watching as my fingertips trail over her hip bone.

  “A little bit. The girls and I went out on the balcony after we realized you were talking.”

  I blow out a breath. “I’ve tried to get through to her, and I’m starting to wonder if that’s even possible.”

  “Want to talk to me about it? Maybe I can give you some advice, since, you know, she and I are the same age and all,” Riley tells me with a smile, making me groan at the reminder. “Seriously, though. Talk to me.”

  Blowing out another breath, I figure, what the hell. “Okay. So, twenty years ago, when Sara and her mom moved across the country, it wasn’t easy for me to see them. That was way before my photography took off and money was tight, especially with the child support I wanted to send.”

  “You didn’t see her much?” she asks.

  “No, I didn’t. And I regret that every day. But there was nothing I could’ve done differently.”

  “And Sara doesn’t believe that?”

  “No,” I answer on a heavy exhale. “I thought, as she got older, she would be more reasonable, but that’s not the case.”

  “Maybe you need to stop being such a nice guy,” Riley suggests.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Well, you seem like you go above and beyond to be a nice guy, a good father, and she ignores you, blows you off.”

  “Pretty much,” I agree. “But I don’t think not being nice will help lessen the divide between us.”

  “If nice isn’t working, though, you need to try something new. Something different.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “Like it’s okay to get angry or upset with her when she constantly dismisses you. Why don’t you try to call her out, put your foot down, and tell her that shit won’t fly?”

  “If I do that, I might lose her for good,” I point out. “And I barely see her now as it is.”

  “Negative emotions can show that you actually give a damn. When you don�
��t throw a fit, but just roll over and let her stomp all over you without putting up any argument, it might appear to her that you don’t care.”

  “So you’re saying caring is being a dick?” I ask with a smile.

  “It’s worth a shot,” she replies with a shrug of her bare shoulder.

  “What about you? How are you with your parents?” I ask, since she hasn’t told me much about herself.

  “My mom is pretty much nuts,” Riley says. “She spends what little money she has on lottery tickets, convinced she’ll hit it big.”

  “Wow,” I mutter. “And your dad?”

  “Never been around,” she says, making me instantly feel guilty. “And I don’t mean like in the ‘live across the country’ way. He lives in the same city, same zip code even, as where I went to school for four years, and doesn’t want anything to do with me. That’s the real reason I ended up at Madison, to try and be closer to him…”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, with a supportive squeeze to her hip.

  “Why? It wasn’t your fault,” she says. “And I know what you’re thinking, but you’re a good father, Brody. So don’t let Sara, or anyone else, make you think otherwise.”

  “How did you get so wise at such a young age?” I ask her.

  “Not wise, just observant,” she tells me with a soft smile that quickly fades. “Well, it’s getting late…or early, rather, so I better get back downstairs.”

  “Stay.” I pull her closer to me because I’m not ready for her to leave yet. “Just a little longer?” I ask. “I’ll wake you up.”

  “Are you sure?” Riley lifts a dark eyebrow skeptically. “What if you fall asleep?”

  “I won’t,” I assure her. “Now get some rest.”

  “Yes, sir,” she mutters with a grin, snuggling her face against my chest before her eyes drift shut.

  Chapter Eleven

  Riley

  Early Tuesday morning, I wake up exhausted but smiling as Brody’s rouses me with his soft bearded kisses over my shoulder and up my neck. The front of his hard body is pressed against my backside, his muscular arm holding me close to him. I’ve never actually had a man cuddle with me after sex. Although, judging by the stiffy poking my ass, this is just the cuddle between bouts of sex.