Page 41 of Her Age Gap Match

“But I need you to tell me everything,” she said, grabbing my wrist. “Stay home.”

“If I call in, I’m going to his place—not staying,” I said. “And don’t you need sleep? You look exhausted.”

“No no—coffee,” she said, already moving to the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. We’re doing this properly. Sit.”

“Stevie, I genuinely have to go to work.”

“Five minutes. I just watched a naked silver fox drop a towel in my kitchen at eight in the morning, I require processing time.” She filled the kettle, hands slightly unsteady. “This is…a lot for a Tuesday.”

I checked the clock on the microwave and did some quick math.

“Okay,” I finally said, dropping into a chair. “Go.”

"How." She set two mugs down with more force than necessary. "How did this happen. Walk me through it. Start at the coffee shop."

"I texted you about the coffee shop."

"You texted me three sentences then I didn’t see you all weekend. I need the full account. The body language. The vibes."

I glanced over my shoulder. My bedroom door was still shut. I was still in a towel, I needed to get dressed…

“I promise I’ll set a time to fill you in on everything later,” I said. “How about lunch?”

Stevie groaned in frustration, throwing her head back. “Fine. But I’m big mad about it.”

“Then throw a tantrum,” I said, standing up. “Just get it out of your system before I meet you at Wa for sushi at one.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re bribing me into being chill.”

“I would never expect you to be chill.”

I walked down the hallway, leaving her to stew, and opened my bedroom door. I found John tugging on his shirt, his eyes finding me as I closed the door behind me. Those eyes roamed up my bare legs…right to where the towel draped over my thighs, slightly parted.

He made this…this noise. Caught his lip in his teeth.

“Tonight?” he asked me.

I smiled. “Your place,” I said.

I kept the towel around me as I went to my closet…only to feel him come up behind me, slide his hands around my waist, pull the towel free. His hands came to rest on my hips, his lips on my throat.

“You sure we don’t have time for one more?” he asked.

I glanced back at him. “Only if you ride extra fast.”

I heard his zipper come down, then felt his cock against me.

He slid inside me in one thrust.

For the last time that morning, he fucked me—held me, my hands braced against the wall beside my closet door, his hands roaming all over. He touched my clit to make it fast on request—and I felt myself growing, growing, cresting⁠—

“Oh god,” I gasped.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he growled in my ear. “Come on.”

So I did.

CHAPTER 12