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She climbs under the sheets. A moment later, my phone vibrates.I’ve got to say, Elio, this is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.
I chuckle quietly. She laughs just as quietly, as if hearing me laugh is enough to make her feel joy, too. This small moment, shared laughter, is more significant than anything I’ve ever shared with any other woman.
Inviting a forty-two-year-old man to sleep on your floor?I type.There’s nothing weird about that.
You’re forty-two?! I thought you were in your mid-thirties at the oldest.
Darkness tries to touch me when I read her message. Maybe she thinks I’m too old for her. Or perhaps this has nothing to do with lust or attraction or, the most ridiculous of all,love. I’ve never felt romantic love. I never thought I would. All that matters is the Family. Yet here I am.
I’m an old, old man.
Looking across the dark room, I see her sitting up in bed. She shakes her head, her wild hair dancing around her shoulders. My manhood is rock hard. I’m not sure when it flooded with tension, but I know it’s not going to quit until I taste her, touch her, own her.
You’re not old. Don’t be silly.
I wonder why she wants to convince me of this. Maybe it’s because she feels the connection burning between us, too. She wants to ensure I’m not holding myself back because of the age gap. Or, more likely, she’s just being friendly… to the stranger on her floor.
You should get some sleep,I reply.
What about you?
I don’t mind staying up. I’ll listen out for any sign of the lowlife. If we’re lucky, he’ll visit again tonight.
That would be lucky?
Yes. I pause, looking over at her again, my heart drumming so hard as I think about standing up, walking to the bed, sliding my hand between her thick legs, and massaging her needy pussy.Because then I’d be able to put the bastard in his place. I’d show him what happens when you threaten an innocent woman.
A shiver moves through her. It’s too dark for me to make out her expression clearly, but I can see her eyes snap open widely. I can see her silhouette, drenched in lust, drenched in heat. Or maybe that’s me projecting.
It’s cold tonight,she replies.Or is that just me? Maybe it’s the fear, you know, making it cold?
Oh,fuck. My balls surge with even more tension. Urgency drums into me. It’s like a primal voice is howling inside to claim her now.
It is cold,I type.But you shouldn’t tell me that, Scarlet. You’ll give this strange man dark ideas.
Another shiver moves through her curvy body. I wish I had my hand on her hip every time she did that. I’d be able to feel her lust coursing through her thick shape.
What sort of ideas?
I swallow, knowing I shouldn’t cross this line. There’s something else stopping me, too. I’m not experienced with women. Of course, I’ve been on dates before, but I’ve never hungered like this. I’ve never felt like, just by being close to a woman, I’m on the verge of snapping.
Climbing into bed with you,I type.Keeping you warm. Those sorts of ideas, Scarlet…
She makes a cute gasping noise. I stand slowly, the floorboards creaking, walking to the edge of the bed. She looks up at me with those wide, pretty eyes. It’s so easy to imagine those eyes getting wide as I lift her veil, slip the ring onto her finger, and lean in with a claiming kiss.
She types something on her phone. I look down when the text arrives.You want to get into bed with me?
I walk around the bed, standing close to her. Slowly, I nod up and down, keeping my gaze fixed on her the entire time. Kneeling, I smooth my hand over the sheets, finding her hand. The moment I touch her, I know that fighting this desire will always be absurd. Her warmth burns up my arm, chest, heart, and soul. I never usually think stuff like that—soul—but it’s true.
“Elio,” she whispers.
“You’re right,” I say, my voice so quiet. “You’re cold. You need me to warm you up.”
Nothing could stop me from doing this now. Leaning forward, I pull her toward me at the same time. She makes a gorgeous whimpering noise as I guide my lips toward hers, but she wants it, too. I can sense it. I can feel her passion. My woman wants it. Maybe notallof it—the future, the family—but right here, she’s ready.
A pulse of pleasure moves through me when our lips touch. I groan and push against her with more pressure, knowing I’ll never forget her reaction. It’s a moan of surprise that becomes a moan of pleasure. She opens her mouth. I find her tongue and taste her, groaning even deeper as I move my hand from her arm to her leg, squeezing, feeling her warmth through the thin fabric of her PJ pants.
“Oh,” she moans, breaking the kiss off.
