Page 55 of Her Age Gap Match

“Long enough for you to figure out if you want somebody younger,” I finally said. “More years.”

She took a deep breath. “I know it’s only been a few days, but…I think every year I spend with you is worth twice as much as if I found someone my own age.”

I looked at her for a long moment.

"That's a generous thing to say."

"It's not generous," she said. "It's just true." She shifted in my lap to face me more fully, the blanket slipping slightly off one shoulder. "You're not a placeholder, John. You're not a compromise. You're the person I want. I'm not going to wake up in ten years and wish I'd chosen someone else. That's not how this feels."

"You can't know that," I said.

She smiled. “Something you should know about me…I make decisions fast and I stick with them.”

“This is kind of a big one, though.”

“And I still trust it.”

I looked at the fire for a moment, mulling it over. The thing is—she wasn’t wrong. I’d made the biggest decision of my life fast—to back out of the robbery, to take the fall, to go back to Elle after, to buy this land, to start Due North. None of it had been slow. And all of those decisions, I’d lived with without regret.

Maybe that was something we had in common.

“Six months,” I said. “Give me six months to do this right. Meet your family, get you a ring, sort out the situation with Sophie.” She laughed softly at that. “And then everything else moves at whatever speed you want.”

She considered it. “Six months. Is that long enough for you?”

I gazed into her eyes. “I’d marry you today if I really thought I deserved you.”

Her breath hitched.

She lifted her head to press her lips to mine.

We kissed languidly for what felt like ages, the fire flickering, my cock aching as it pressed against her.

God, I wanted her again.

I wanted her over and over, for the rest of my life.

When she straddled me, I was ready, and she sank down on me without a second thought, like we already knew each other well enough to know what the other wanted, what we craved.

She moaned under her breath, resting her forehead against mine.

“You feel…” she paused, adjusting, a breathy sigh escaping her lips. “You feel so good.”

“So do you.”

She started to move—slow, reveling in it, nothing like in the kitchen. This was different. Just the two of us in the firelight, the lake outside, the blanket pooled around us, no urgency at all.

I held her waist and let her take what she needed.

She kept her forehead against mine, eyes open, and I kept mine open too. Neither of us looked away. It felt important not to look away. I strained to stay with it, not to come deep inside her when she hit that perfect spot, when she took me until there was no space between us.

Redheaded babies. I couldn’t stop the images from hitting me hard as I looked into her eyes, her curls falling around us both.

“I’m close,” she whispered.

“Take what you need,” I groaned. “I wanna give it to you. Give you everything.”

She came quietly, her whole body pressing into mine, her hands gripping my shoulders, my name barely a sound against my neck.