It’s never too late to try something new.
Best friends Molly and Amber both despair after their long marriages end in divorce – until they meet a couple of sexy younger guys who know exactly what they need both in and out of the bedroom.
Nick teaches Molly the liberating pleasure of letting go, taking her to the exclusive Peregrine club for her first taste of dominance and submission. Amber meets the exotic Rio, who doesn’t hesitate to make her his.
Both women soon learn that age is nothing but a number, and that with a little informed consent, there is no limit to what they are capable of enjoying.
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“Hurry, everyone.” Dina Emerson’s high-pitched voice squeaked even louder. “Find your chairs. Take your places. The fireworks are about to start.”
She buzzed around like a restless bee, shooing people into places, shifting chairs, generally driving everyone crazy. Dina was cute and lovable but her bubbly personality only stretched so far before people wanted to tell her to shut up.
I shouldn’t have come, Molly thought. Big mistake. Big, big mistake.
“Fireworks, people,” Dina repeated, clapping her hands for attention.
If only, Molly thought wryly.
Fireworks had been missing from Molly Gerard’s life for so long she couldn’t remember how to spell sex. The erotic romance books her friend Janine had given her, insisting she read them, only underscored how much Molly was missing, how pathetic her sex life had been—and was. Her newly awakened interest in the erotic had led her to surf the web, her latest hobby, but that only frustrated her more.
Why the hell had she married Craig, anyway? He of the selfish sex and gigantic ego. At first she’d excused his insensitivity as a lack of understanding of her needs. But after twenty years she realized he understood her needs but just didn’t give a damn about them, and probably never would. So why hadn’t she divorced him a long time ago, instead of hanging onto nothing and then letting him dump her?
Her pride was taking a long time recovering from that.
So here she was, rootless and uncertain, trying to figure out how to start life again. They hadn’t had children—Craig considered them an unnecessary nuisance—so she didn’t even have that to anchor herself to. Instead she found herself searching for something to fill that empty space inside her.
She had come to believe that no one under thirty should even consider marriage. Their brains hadn’t yet begun to work.
Molly sighed, pushed her thoughts away, and looked for a place to sit down. Every piece of patio furniture, every folding chair on the lawn seemed to be filled. The Emerson’s’ annual Fourth of July picnic was well attended, as usual. Molly had never felt more out of place.
Serves me right. What the hell am I doing here anyway?
“I think this seat has your name on it.”
The deep voice made her breath catch but not nearly as much as the sight of the man it belonged to. Well over six feet, lean and dark, with thick wavy hair and a body that moved with athletic grace, he could have stepped directly from her lonely fantasies. He had come up behind her, footsteps soundless on the lush grass, carrying what was probably the last folding canvas chair on the Emerson property.
Her first thought was: Yum! And erotic images growing in her mind burst forth like an exploding balloon.
Her second thought was, Forget it, Molly, you’re too old for him.
But she couldn’t drag her eyes away from him.
He nudged the chair closer and grinned. “Better take this before Dina steals it for someone else.”
“Oh! That’s very nice of you. But where will you sit?”
He grinned, his teeth even and white in his tanned face. “Right here next to you.” He patted the chair. “Come on. Dina’s show is about to begin.”
“Thank you.” Gingerly she lowered herself into the treacherous-looking piece of furniture.
He folded himself cross-legged on the grass and reached up a hand to her. “Nick Trajan. Dina’s neighbor.”
Molly took his hand, shocked at its warmth and the spike of heat that flowed into her body. “Molly Gerard. Dina’s pity guest.” Not even a smile could soften the bitterness of her words.
Nick raised one eyebrow. “I didn’t realize that was a separate category. I thought Dina just invited enough people so she felt properly adored.”
Molly burst out laughing. “I can see you’ve known her a long while.”
“Not long. Just well. I bought the house next door about five years ago.”
Next door. Molly almost smiled. In the exclusive rural community of Limerock, neighbors were often five miles apart or more.
“Are you a gentleman rancher too?” she asked. “Or do you do it for real?”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Neither. I just wanted a place outside the city where I had to really work to see another living human being. I’m an architect. That’s how I met the Emersons. I designed their new home here. I mentioned I was looking for an escape from the city, Dina turned me onto a place for sale, and here we are.”
“Yes, here you are.”
Molly felt the man’s masculinity rolling off him in waves. The spicy scent of his aftershave blended with the aroma of the mountain cedar and fresh cut hay. She touched her fingers to her lips to make sure she wasn’t drooling. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-five, ten years younger than she was. He looked like the kind of man who had women hanging from him by the dozens. Unless…
“Isn’t your wife here with you?” She tried to sound polite rather than curious.
Nick burst out laughing. “Is that a clever way of asking if I’m married? The simple answer is I’m not.” His eyes narrowed. “What about you?”
“No. That’s why I’m on the pity list.”
He opened his mouth to ask her another question but whatever he said was overridden by the first blast of the fireworks.
The show was certainly spectacular. Dina and Frank spared no expense, either with the barbecue or the explosives show. For forty-five minutes the night sky was lit up with complex exploding designs, the booms and pops punctuated by the oohs and aahs of the watchers.
At last it was over and people began to gather themselves to leave.
Nick helped Molly out of the unwieldy chair, a bolt of excitement racing through her again at his touch.
“I don’t suppose I could interest you in an after-fireworks drink, could I? At my place? I’m just down the road,” he said.
Molly felt her knees go weak. This gorgeous hunk wanted to have a drink with her? Oh, my God!
“I could tell you I’m harmless,” he went on in that voice like warm honey, “but that might be a lie. I thought maybe we could talk a little more about your ‘special list’ status.”
She had to think for a moment to figure out what he meant. When she caught it, she felt her cheeks heat. “It’s a long, boring story. I don’t think you’d be at all interested.”
He took her hand in his again and slowly rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, his touch making her skin tingle. “Now that’s where you’d be totally wrong. What do you say, Molly? You don’t really want to go home alone, do you? Not on the Fourth of July.”
Did she? Hell, no. She’d already spent too many lonely nights in that damned condo, wondering where her life had gone and how she could possibly get it back.
“Well,” she began.
His eyes glittered. “Excellent. Let’s go say our goodbyes to our host and hostess. Then you can follow me down the highway.”
“I… um, think we should say goodbye separately. You know, for the sake of appearances.”
Would he understand her need for secrecy? She’d already been the subject of one too many conversations.
He slid both hands up to her shoulders and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. He just stared into her eyes, studying them, then let her go. “For appearances. Absolutely. But you’d better know now I’m going to make it my mission to find out why someone like you has herself enclosed in an invisible cell.”
Oh, God. What am I getting myself into?
“Yes, you are. But that’s okay. For the moment. I’ll head down the road first. Look for a dark green Lincoln Navigator about a mile from here where the shoulder of the road widens. Flash your lights before you get to me.”
“Oh, Nick.” She spread her hands in a helpless gesture.
“It’s okay, Molly.” He smiled and touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers, understanding in his eyes. “But if you change your mind and your lights don’t flash, I may take that as a challenge.” He winked at her and headed off toward the patio where Dina and Frank were seeing their guests off.
Watching him walk with that easy, relaxed stride of his, Molly felt two very unfamiliar reactions in her body: her nipples tightened and cream flooded her panties.
Well, hell, Molly. What’s that all about?
Her vagina had been drier than the Sahara Desert for as long as she could remember. Another of Craig’s many complaints. If not for artificial liquid she’d have really had a problem. So what was going on here? This very sexy man, ten years her junior, invited her to his house and suddenly her body was working again?
I am in big trouble.
But then her inner voice said, Remember all those juicy erotic romances. Here’s your chance to find out if they’re fantasy or reality.
The thrill of the unexpected curled low in her abdomen and stampeded her pulse. Would her age turn him off? Would her body please him?
Okay, pull yourself together.
“Oh, Molly, dear.” Dina Emerson clasped her in a hug, bangle bracelets jangling a symphony against Molly’s back. Thick clouds of Estee Lauder’s Beautiful wrapped around Molly, clogging her senses. “I do so hope you had fun. I apologize for not being able to spend more time with you.”
“I did just fine, Dina. No problem. I enjoyed the evening very much.”
Dina waved a hand in the air. “I had big wishes you might meet someone here but Frank pointed out to me I didn’t invite enough single men who were old enough. You know, in your age group.”
Ouch! Bring out the senior citizen label.
“Not a problem. Everything was great.”
“I just feel so terrible for you since the… you know…”
Molly snorted. “It’s a divorce, not a contagious disease. Anyway, thanks for your hospitality. Gotta run now.”
But the divorce had been like a disease that had infected her, their friends, almost everyone they knew. Craig had made it as unpleasant for everyone as he could. Now she was tired of people giving her what she called the “Poor Molly” look, while Craig strutted around town with his Miss Universe wannabe. She hoped his supply of Viagra held out.
Sighing, she climbed into her sexy little Miata convertible, her consolation gift to herself the day the divorce was final, and headed down the driveway and onto the highway.
She wasn’t alone on the road. Other cars had left before and after her. Supposing, just supposing, that when she spotted the Lincoln Navigator— if he was actually waiting for her—how was she expected to flash her lights without making people stop to think she was in trouble? And how would he manage to get in front of her without causing a problem? Maybe he wouldn’t even be there. Maybe he had just been giving her a line to cheer up “Poor Molly”.
But no, there he was, pulled to the side just like he’d said.
Before she could take time to think about it, to second guess herself, she flashed her lights. Just once. And just as if they’d rehearsed it, he waited out the cars going by and pulled in front of her, smoothly as you please.
A few minutes later she saw his turn signal come on and the SUV turned into a driveway as long as the Emersons’. Swallowing, she turned in right behind him and followed him down a winding caliche surface. Her palms were sweaty on the steering wheel and her pulse was dancing like a Mexican jumping bean. How pathetic that this was the most daring thing she’d ever done in her life.
She drew in a deep breath, let it out, and parked her car in the space he indicated. Life was about to change for Molly Gerard.
“Your house is unbelievable.” Molly stood in the middle of the great room, looking everywhere, awed by the magnificence of the structure. “Your design, right?”
“I cannot tell a lie.” Nick handed her a small snifter with brandy in it. “When I bought the property it had nothing on it. I drove around the Hill Country and gathered ideas. Then I drove my contactor nuts to get it right.”
“It was worth the effort.” She couldn’t help admiring the soaring beamed ceiling, the massive stone fireplace, the window walls that now reflected the soft lighting Nick had turned on when they came in.
What the hell am I doing here? Do I sound as nervous as I feel? He’ll think I’m an anxious virgin or a dried up spinster. Oh, wait. I’ve been married. I can’t be a spinster. Just dried up.
“Stop thinking so hard. You’ll give yourself a headache.” Nick smiled as he touched his glass to hers in a toast. “To new beginnings.”
“Is that what this is?” She sipped at the brandy, holding the glass with both hands to conceal their tremor.
“I hope so.” He reached out and caressed her cheek with his fingertips, a ghost of a smile quirking one corner of his mouth. “Don’t be so panicky, Molly. Just enjoy the brandy. Nothing will happen unless you want it to. I promise.”
His voice made her shiver deliciously. Unless I want it to. Oh, she wanted it all right, with an intensity that shocked her. While driving the short distance to his house, all those erotic images had started clanging around in her brain again, teasing her. Feelings she didn’t even know she had were taking control of her body. She almost felt as if she was an actor in a play, where she would finally be able to indulge in all her long suppressed fantasies.
But if the night progressed that way, she’d have to take off her clothes.
Well, of course, dummy. You don’t act out fantasies with your clothes on.
Her problem was that she was forty-five years old and her body had developed the flaws that come with aging. No amount of trips to the gym and self-discipline routines could conceal them. How would she compare with his other women, women she was sure were toned and lithe and without one blemish?
And that wasn’t the only thing that made her insides quake and her self-confidence leap to suicide mode. She was positive that where Nick Trajan’s sexual needs and desires were concerned, she’d be a fumbling novice. So why didn’t she just thank him for the drink and go home before she embarrassed the hell out of herself?
“Why me?” she asked him, butterflies doing the jitterbug in her stomach as she waited for the answer. “You could have any woman you want. Certainly many much closer to your age. What do you want with an old woman like me?”
She tried to smile, to make a joke out of it, but inside she wasn’t laughing.
Nick took her cold hand in his warm one. “What is this I’m hearing? Molly, Molly, Molly. I would be proud to show you off to anyone.” His eyes were hot as they pinned her gaze. “I don’t make my choices of women according to the calendar. I find it unbelievable that the men tonight didn’t seem to appreciate you in the least. But gratified, because it opened the way for me.”
She gave a short laugh. “I know what they all think of me. It isn’t very flattering.”
“Then they’re all stupid.” He led her to the mammoth couch against one stone wall. When he sat down, she noticed he made sure there was enough space between them for her to feel comfortable. Not trapped. But there wasn’t enough space in the world, she thought, to prevent his raw, masculine power from surrounding her.
In the soft light from the lamps he’d turned on, she got a much better look than she had at the Emerson’s’. Now she could see the amazing silver color of his eyes, the thick, sooty lashes that framed them, and the hint of mystery reflected in their depths. The slightly rough planes of his face, and the thin white scar that ran along the left edge of his jaw—just enough to keep him from being too handsome and diluting his potent sexual appeal.
In his black cotton V-neck sweater and black jeans, he looked like a sensual devil come to draw her into the unknown. She barely controlled the shiver that skittered along her spine.
He leaned gracefully into the corner of the couch, one arm along the back. “So, Molly Gerard, I’m curious as to why you think Daffy Dina has you on her ‘pity’ list.”
Molly dropped her eyes to the drink she was holding. “A story too sad to bore you with. And far too embarrassing.”
“I don’t think so.” His voice was pitched low and seductive. “Nothing about you could be boring. And you never have to be embarrassed in front of me. Ever.” He took a sip of his drink. “So tell me, Molly, what’s the problem? You mentioned no husband. Widowed, or divorced?”
She sighed and swallowed some of the brandy, hoping the burning liquor traveling down her throat would give her courage. For whatever. She let out a slow breath. “Divorced. Publicly and humiliatingly.” Her short laugh held no humor. “Traded in for a buxom blonde half my age. The most effective way to point out my glaring shortcomings as a wife, I guess.”
She’d hardly noticed that he’d moved closer to her in tiny increments, until his hand reached out and gently twisted one of her gold-streaked curls around an index finger.
“Age is relative, Molly. There are women in their twenties I wouldn’t take to a dog show and women in their forties whom I’d give my left nut to drag into the bedroom.”
Her laugh sounded false even to herself. “Pardon me for being crass but looking at you, I’m sure you don’t need to resort to old ladies to fill your time.”
“You’re right.” He had inched even closer. “I don’t have to resort to anything. When I see a beautiful, sexy woman, I don’t ask for her birth certificate. Age isn’t what counts. Do you know, the minute I saw you, my cock got so hard I wasn’t sure I could walk?”
Molly felt her face heat; she was sure she was blushing. Craig had never spoken so blatantly to her. Maybe that was the problem.
“I’m forty-five years old, Nick. I’m a refugee from a bad marriage and I think any high school teen knows more about sex than I do.”
“Is that so?” He was close enough now to take her glass from nerveless fingers and set it on the table next to his. “What a blessing. That just means I don’t have to worry about measuring up to anyone else’s performance.”
“Uh-uh. No talking.”
She knew he was going to kiss her and she closed her eyes to savor it. But nothing could have prepared her for the shock of heat that surged through her the minute his lips touched hers. They felt like warm rough silk, but his tongue, when he slipped it easily into the wetness of her mouth, was like a dancing flame. Every place he touched—the roof of her mouth, her inner cheeks, the insides of her lips—felt scorched with a heat that drove straight to her womb and her nipples. She felt juices gather inside her pussy, something she’d only recently learned how to produce with manual stimulation. And never with Craig. Ever. She’d gotten through all those years with a constant supply of KY liquid.
His arms slid around her to pull her to his chest, one hand tangled in the thickness of her hair. Somewhere in the back of her mind she suspected she was getting in over her head but her body didn’t care. And now, neither did she. If he meant what he said, she was finally going to experience it all.
When she shifted against him so her breasts rubbed against his chest through the thin cotton of his sweater, he groaned into her mouth and tightened his hold on her.
Molly was so wet between her legs now she was sure the liquid had leaked out onto the couch, and the lips of her pussy throbbed with an insistent demand. With just his kiss she felt wild and wanton, excited, eager to explore whatever he suggested.
When Nick lifted his mouth from hers, still just a breath away, his silver eyes had darkened to a stormy gray. She felt as if all the air in her body was trapped in her lungs.
“You know I didn’t just ask you here to engage in polite conversation.” His voice had a rough thickness to it. “The minute I laid eyes on you I wanted to fuck you, Molly, in ways you can’t even imagine. But be aware there’s still time for you to say thanks for the drink and bug out of here. If that’s what you want.” His tongue licked the seam of her lips. “So what is it, sweet princess? Stay or go?”
She was crossing a line here. Oh, yes, that was a fact. Deep in the pit of her stomach she knew Nick Trajan was not just another man with well-developed sexual prowess. There were hidden meanings in his words and his kisses. Wasn’t this what she wanted? What she’d been craving in her secret dreams? But was she daring enough to do this? To expose herself to whatever he had to offer? To let him teach her the delights of erotic sex?
“What if I don’t measure up?” she whispered, almost afraid to ask the question.
He dipped his head and his tongue licked at the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. “This isn’t a competition, Molly. I want you. Pure and simple. There’s no way you’ll disappoint me so don’t even think it. So.” He looked up. “What’s your answer?”
“Stay,” she whispered, her heart jack-hammering in her chest.
“Then I think we need to take this to another room. I like my comforts.”
He lifted her in his arms as easily as if she were a feather and carried her to an open door at the far end of the room, reaching out as he entered through it to flip on a switch that turned on four small lamps.
His bedroom was exactly what she would have expected. Dark furniture with graceful lines to soften its starkness. Beige carpeting and walls but bright splashes of navy and green in the coverlet, the two chairs next to a small table, and the tiebacks of the drapes framing yet another window wall.
“Don’t move,” Nick said, setting her down next to the bed. “Stay right there.”
He stepped away from her to the complex entertainment center on one wall, pushed a button, and soft music drifted into the room from hidden speakers.
“Stay right there,” he reminded her, as he lit candles set in a row on a shelf to one side, the scent of lavender filling the air. Then he was back beside her, giving her that sexy half-smile again. “Sorry. If I’d known you were coming, I’d have been better prepared. The music would have been on, the candles already filling the room with their scent, the bed properly turned down.”
“Oh!” She was breathless. “I’d say you don’t need much warning at all. Besides, I like it better that it wasn’t so… planned.” She looked down at her feet, then raised her eyes to his. “Could we turn out the lights, please? Do you mind?”
He cupped her face with his lean fingers, his thumbs tracing lightly over her cheekbones. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I want to see every inch of you, Molly. Every sweet, mouth-watering inch. You don’t ever have to hide from me.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Well, you see, that is, I mean…”
“What is it?” His voice was a gentle caress. “What’s worrying you?”
“Nick, I told you. I’m not thirty years old anymore.”
“Thank God,” he breathed.
“Is mature and ripe and exactly what I want. You won’t disappoint me, Molly. I promise you.”
“I hope not,” she whispered, as his fingers reached for the hem of her top and began tugging it over her head. Then her bra was gone, and her first instinct was to lift her arms and cross them in front to cover herself.
Nick gently but forcefully tugged them down. “Look at you.” His voice was almost reverent. “Your breasts are magnificent. I can’t wait to feel them and taste them.”
Molly closed her eyes and fisted her hands at her sides. In seconds Nick’s hands were cradling her breasts, his thumbs chafing her nipples. She sucked in a breath as his mouth closed over one nipple, his thumb and forefinger pinching the other. Spikes of pleasure shot straight to her cunt and her nipples tingled with an unbelievable sensation. When he closed his teeth over the one between his lips her whole body began to tremble.
“So sweet,” he murmured, lifting his mouth and blowing on the bud he’d been teasing. “Like ripe berries. And such warm breasts. God, Molly, just touching them makes me even harder, if that’s possible.”
Eyes closed, she gripped his shoulders for balance. Was he telling her the truth? She wasn’t quite as firm as she used to be, and heaven only knew Craig had made enough disparaging remarks about her breasts. But she couldn’t think straight with Nick’s mouth sucking her and his teeth grazing her flesh. A moan echoed in the back of her throat.
“Let me see all of you,” Nick demanded in a husky voice, his hands already busy at the snap and zipper of her slacks. “Don’t hide from me. Please.”
“Wait,” she protested, her head already spinning.
“No waiting,” he murmured. “I want you naked right now.”
Somehow he pulled off her slacks, bikini panties and sandals with only a minimum of movement. She felt the air whisper against her bare skin and again reached to cover herself. But Nick was not about to let her hide.
It must be the brandy, she thought, suddenly realizing she was on her back on the bed and Nick was next to her, as naked as she was. His lips moved along her jawline while his hand traced the contours of her body. His breath was hot in her ear as he massaged her breasts and pinched her nipples, tugging at them, rolling them, until the sensation was almost more than she could bear. When he leaned down to place an open-mouthed kiss on her abdomen she was sure she felt her skin crackle.
But it was nothing compared to the streaks of pleasure when he opened her thighs and slid his fingers over her weeping slit. She couldn’t remember being this wet, ever. His thumb drifted over her clit, stimulating that hard, throbbing knob that felt as if the skin had been peeled away and every nerve laid bare. Craig had always insisted she stimulate herself for him— “Get yourself ready,” were his words—waiting only for the moment he could plunge himself inside her, ejaculate and roll over. She bet he did a little more than that with his current arm charms.
This… this was rapture. Heaven. Bliss. Lean fingers stroked the slick skin of her vagina, opening her to his touch. She felt first one, then two fingers slide inside her, curling slightly to find her sensitive places.
“I’m going to fuck you with my fingers,” he told her, “and feel you spill your juices into my hand. Then I’m going to do it with my mouth, so I can lap you up like a dessert. And finally with my cock, so I can feel these wonderfully tight muscles clamp around me. Would you like that, Molly?”
“Yes,” she breathed, her hips already beginning to move automatically.
“Let me teach you how good this can be. Let me show you how wonderful sex can be between two people so completely tuned into each other.”
He teased her and played with her cunt and her clitoris until she thought she would go out of her mind. Every time she felt the flutters begin in her vaginal walls, he slid his fingers nearly out of her and turned his attention to licking the crease where thigh and hip joined. Or the line just above the curls covering her mound. Or the undersides of her breasts. Then he began again.
She had never, ever been hung on such a ledge of desire before. No, wait, she had never known such desire before. Every muscle and nerve in her body cried for relief.
“Please,” she begged at last, her entire body vibrating.
“Please what?” he asked in between busy sweeps of his tongue.
“Please… you know.”
His thumb teased her clit. “Say it, Molly. Tell me exactly what you want or I can’t give it to you.”
“Please let me come,” she cried, her hands gripping his head.
“All right, then.” His voice was heavy with desire. “All you had to do was tell me. Touch your nipples for me,” he ordered in a low voice. “Take them in your fingers. Pull on them.”
“Do it now, Molly, or I won’t let you come.”
Okay, anything. Anything. I’ll do anything if you just let me climax.
She took her nipples between thumbs and forefingers and began to drag and tug on them. Heat flooded straight to her womb and stimulated her already anxious pussy.
“That’s it. Pinch those luscious buds for me. Hard. Take a little bite of pain with the pleasure, Molly.”
She moaned as she did what he asked.
“Good girl,” he said, his effort at control evident in the strain in his voice.
He slid two fingers back into her cunt, then added a third one, stretching her tight channel. As he began to fuck her manually, the thumb of his other hand stroked insistently across her clit, stimulating nerves already raw and sensitive.
As needy as she was, as hot and aroused, it took barely seconds before her orgasm crashed over her. The walls of her pussy convulsed and gripped Nick’s fingers tightly, pulling at them as if they had a mind of their own. Her juices spilled into his hand, coating it as she hunched her hips and pushed hard against him.
“Pinch your nipples once more, Molly.” His voice was hoarse. “Now.”
She followed his directions and the strongest of the waves took her. Her body shuddered and she screamed Nick’s name.