I feel something unlock inside me, like I’m giving myself permission to do this crazy thing I never would’ve considered a short time ago but now can’t imagine not seeing through. I can tell that she’s nervous but committed, and that allows me to commit too. “I sure as fuck hope so.”

  Part of me thought that if we ever got to this part, we’d go slow. That there’d be hours of foreplay, trembling hands learning each other’s skin, and gentle coupling after both of us had such long dry spells. I figured I’d have to struggle through at least one bout of blowing my load early before I could last long enough to actually fuck Tiffany.

  But that’s not what happens at all.

  We meet with a fiery passion, my hands seizing Tiffany by her arms to pull her to me so I can claim her mouth in a hungry kiss.

  My fingers dig into her creamy skin, but she doesn’t fight me. She moans, her hands coming up to slip under my shirt. As soon as she finds skin, she almost claws at me, digging in and claiming me right back.

  I pull back, our eyes locking as we half stumble, half throw each other toward the bed. Tiffany hits first, her knees unlocking as she falls back, and I pause to rip my shirt over my head and undo my jeans before climbing on top of her.

  “Touch me,” Tiffany begs as my hands start exploring her body. She was slower than I was in getting her clothes off, so I’m able to explore her as I push her shirt off, cupping and squeezing one teardrop shaped breast as she undoes her bra to give me better access. She gasps, her eyes fluttering. “Daniel!”

  “Look me in the eyes,” I demand, and she forces those dark, soulful orbs open to look at me as we push clothes off and out of the way, hands exploring skin that I never thought I’d explore. She’s silky soft everywhere, but especially on the hollow of her lower back, where there’s a few almost downy hairs that make me smile before I cup the firm swell of her ass.

  “Damn,” I growl, squeezing. “You know you were teasing the fuck out of me that day with this?”

  “Of course,” she says, smiling even as she whimpers. “That was my plan.”

  “Temptress,” I compliment her, gasping when she runs a hand down and takes me in her hand. “Tiffany—”

  “God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” she says.

  Is she talking about me or my cock? Or both?

  Either way, they’re hers.

  “Just be here with me.”

  Like I could be anywhere else even if I wanted to. She’s beautiful and passionate, and she wants me? I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it.

  She strokes me with a strong grip, her hand electric on my cock, and within just a few strokes, I’m already jerking, gasping as a huge orgasm sweeps through me. I spurt uncontrollably into her hand as I cry out. She catches it all, cradling it in her palm until I’m done.

  “I—” I start to apologize, but she looks me squarely in the eyes and lifts her hand to her mouth. Her pink tongue comes out to lick my cum from her hand, and she groans as though it’s the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted. It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen, and my cock starts to harden again already.

  But I have other ideas.

  “My turn,” I tell her. Her pants have only made it halfway down her thighs, so I shove them the rest of the way off, drinking in the sight of her in a lacy pair of panties. Her whole body is flushed pink, her nipples are pearled up, and her eyes watch my every move. I run a finger under the thin strap over her hip, dipping lower and lower toward her center each time.

  Tiffany squirms, her hips bucking in search of my hand. Her impatience gets the better of her, and she pushes her own panties down, using her toe to yank them off and throw them. I have no idea where they land, nor do I care.

  “Impressive,” I say about her panty tossing skills as my hand slips over her mound and the small triangle of trimmed hair above her cleft. “So pretty.”

  Together, both finally skin on skin, we embrace, and I pull her on top of me to kiss down her neck, finding her pebbled nipple and sucking on it as she whimpers, grabbing my hair.

  As I feast on her, my hands stroke her too, reaching around her hips to find the warm, wet cleft of her pussy. I trace her lips with a fingertip, feeling her heat slowly engulf my fingertip. She arches her back, fucking herself on my single finger, though I know it’s not nearly enough for her. But I know what is . . .

  “I want a taste. Turn around and sit on me,” I tell her.

  To her credit, she doesn’t show any hesitation. She spins around, throwing a knee on either side of my head to lower her pussy toward my mouth.

  I reach up to grab her ass and pull her down on top of me. The first swipe of my tongue over her lips tells me I was right. She is delicious, and I’m already an addict to her sweet earthiness. I stiffen my tongue, parting her folds to taste her deeply, and she cries out, grinding down on my mouth.

  Suddenly, I feel warmth around my cock, and I realize what she’s doing. She’s leaned forward to take me into her mouth at the same time she rides my tongue. My spine curls, pushing my cock deeper into her mouth, and I feel her moan on me. I’m a fucking goner for her. Her lips and tongue work my cock, sucking me, and in return, I pull her clit into my mouth, sucking in tandem with her.

  I flick the tip of my tongue over her and then lap at her with a wide, flat tongue, testing her responses to see what she likes and cataloguing them away.

  She’s doing the same to me, licking and sucking my balls and tracing a finger along the sensitive skin just behind them.

  It only takes minutes before we’re both mad with need.

  I pull back, and Tiffany understands, climbing off me to lie back on the bed, her knees splayed and her pussy gleaming and open for me. I don’t think, I don’t pause, I don’t even choose. I just need to be inside her. I take myself in hand, slamming into her in one savage thrust that buries my cock to the hilt in her folds.

  “Fuck,” Tiffany growls as she pulls me down for an intense kiss. “Finally.” She wraps her legs around my hips and pulls me in tighter. “I’m never letting you go now. You know that, right?”

  I plant my arms on either side of her, looking into her eyes. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  She shudders at my mere words, and I lose all control as she quivers mindlessly around me.

  I fuck her.

  It’s hard, it’s fast, and she’s already on edge from my tongue as I grind and fill her again and again. The shaking turns into a mini-climax, but I don’t slow my pace, pushing and driving through it.

  She’s mine.

  With every stroke, I can feel it, and with each repetition of this mantra in my mind, I grow stronger, rougher, more forceful. I can feel my hips slapping against her thighs, creating a symphony as the bed squeaks louder and louder and Tiffany’s high-pitched cries turn to guttural grunts as she gets closer.

  And then she goes silent, her body contracting and completely still for a long moment as she teeters on the edge. With a shout of my name, she comes. The orgasm sweeps through her, beautiful in its destruction of any humanity she had, and I keep on fucking her through it. She’s feral, hips bucking wildly and nails clawing at anything she can reach—the sheet, my arms and shoulders, and her own hair as she thrashes through the waves.

  Her pleasure and the uninhibited way she enjoys it is immensely sexy, and I feel myself thickening and swelling inside her, on the edge of my own release.

  With the last of my control, I pull back and start jacking myself violently, the purplish head of my cock slapping against her clit.

  “Come all over me,” Tiffany moans, pinching her nipples. “I want you to mark my whole pussy. It’s yours. It’s always been yours.”

  “Fuck!” I cry out, exploding in my second orgasm.

  I never imagined how sexy that would be, but her filthy words have me coming harder than I have in years, maybe ever. I pump my load in jagged streams over her mound and her belly, wishing I were deep inside her.

  In time, a voice whispers to me. She wants it too.

  She rubs it in with red-tipped fingers, spreading the creamy whiteness over her skin and dipping into herself. I groan at the sight, memorizing it for posterity because this moment, this encounter . . . my brain can’t process it all right now. I need to reflect to absorb it all.

  She uses my cum to swipe over her sensitive clit and shudders. “One more?” I ask with a lift of my brow. There’s something ridiculously carnal about getting her off with my fluids, and I want to watch her shatter once more. She bites her lip, unsure, but nods. I use the flat of all four of my fingers, quickly blurring them across her entire pussy so I don’t abuse her overworked clit.

  Her body goes taut instantly, her spine curling to lift her hips. “Yes, yes . . . ugh, yes.”

  I watch her face—the fluttering of her lashes as her eyes roll back, the furrowing of her brow, and the slack-jawed shout as she detonates. I don’t stop, mixing my cum with her juices, getting her pussy messy and slippery with the proof of our passion.

  She gasps and jerks, pulling her hips away from me. “Too much, too much.”

  I collapse next to Tiffany, who stays where she is, panting lightly and looking up at the ceiling. “Holy shit!” she whispers breathlessly, a dazed grin on her face. “That was even better than I dreamed, and I’ve fantasized about it approximately one million times.”

  I smile like any man who just did something he didn’t think possible. “Glad to not disappoint.”

  We laugh softly, both blissed out in afterglow, and I wrap her in my arms. She hugs me back, and after everything we shared, this somehow feels the most nakedly vulnerable.

  We should clean up, or towel off, at least. But exhaustion wins, and Tiffany doesn’t seem inclined to move either. I pull the blanket over us, promising myself that we’ll get up in a few minutes.

  Just a little rest to catch my breath.

  As I close my eyes, I feel a total sense of peace and contentment that I’ve never felt before.

  Chapter 16

  Tiffany

  Sunday dawns early for me, and I awaken feeling like I’m in a dream. Under the covers, nude, and wrapped up in Daniel’s arms. We both fell asleep after our passionate exertions last night and never got up to clean up. My stomach is grumbling, and I need to pee, but that’s not what has my mind racing at the moment.

  I’m worried about Daniel.

  I don’t know what it was that triggered the first step in the chain reaction that led to our being here, but a little voice inside me is screaming in warning.

  What if he freaks out?

  What if he regrets it? If he looks at me and I see even the tiniest hint of a wince, I will never recover. I’ll end up an old hag, reminiscing about the one perfect time that nothing and nobody could ever live up to.

  Okay, probably not. But it’ll be painful as fuck to see my dream turn into a nightmare.

  But as he opens his eyes and flashes me a sleepy smile, I see something else. Whatever magic we wove last night, he seems to still be under my spell. Or I’m under his.

  Either way, I intend to get under him one more time.

  Or on top of him, or in front of him.

  Hell, I’ll swing from the ceiling fan if he wants me to.

  “Shower?” Daniel asks, giving me a kiss on the nose.

  “Uhm, I guess, and—” I start before I feel him cup my ass, giving me a squeeze. “Oh.”

  “Yeah,” he says, seeming much more awake than he was a moment ago. “That kind of shower.”

  It’s not ideal. The hotel shower is one of those shower-bathtub combo things that makes footing a little unsure, but we more than manage. In fact, with my hands and cheek pressed to the tile wall and Daniel gripping my waist in his hands, we manage gloriously, and I’m eager to see what the rest of the day has in store.

  We dress in yesterday’s clothes and check out at the front desk, thankfully with another desk clerk. Though I wonder if my quicksand story got around because this clerk looks at Daniel’s tennis shoes curiously.

  “You know, we should’ve talked about this before, but . . . well, birth control,” Daniel says questioningly as he starts the car.

  “I’m already on the pill,” I admit, grinning. “No worries.”

  We drive back toward the city, stopping after a little bit at a roadside restaurant that advertises big stacks of pancakes. The pictures on the windows have my mouth watering, and my stomach growls loudly, sounding like a bear needing rations after a long hibernation. Or a woman who skipped dinner in favor of wild sexual exertions.

  Daniel looks over at me, unsuccessfully fighting a bemused smirk.

  “Let me sing you the song of my people . . . Feed me, feed me.”

  “Are your people zombies?” Daniel asks dryly.

  “Only when we don’t eat,” I answer with a shrug. “I’m a grazer, always nibbling on something, so as far as my belly is concerned, I haven’t eaten in like a week.” I laugh, considering digging my emergency crackers from my purse even though the restaurant is literally right in front of us.

  “Then we’d better go,” Daniel says, hopping out and coming around to open my door.

  We go inside, where a waitress comes over. “Mornin’, y’all. What can I get you?”

  “I’d like the Big Platter breakfast,” Daniel says, “with scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, and whole wheat toast. Tiffany?”

  I shake my head. Even when he’s gorging on well-earned food, he gets the healthy stuff. Not this girl.

  “I’d like the Monster Cake platter.” As I order, I glance at Daniel nervously, looking for any judgment or reaction. I’m not one of those women who only orders a salad on a date—or well, I wouldn’t be if I dated—but there’s the other extreme too, and it involves four plate-sized pancakes with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, peanut butter, and banana slices. Which is what I ordered.

  Daniel doesn’t so much as blink, but the waitress sees my questioning look and misconstrues it. “Don’t you worry, girl. How could any father say no to a daughter ordering the most delicious platter in the county?”

  Daniel tenses, but I decide to have a little fun. “Oh, he’s my Daddy, but he isn’t my dad,” I tell her with a knowing look and a quick wink. “Why do you think I got the Monster Cakes? I already got all the sausage I can eat.”

  The waitress blushes, and Daniel pales, but after a second the waitress laughs. “Well, okay then!” she says heartily. “Good for y’all!”

  Our waitress leaves, and Daniel gives me a curious look. “Tiffany, about the Daddy thing . . . you called me that the night you were hammered and—”

  “Relax,” I assure him. “I don’t judge people who are into that, but that’s not me. Hell, I never even thought of you that way except to irk Elle from time to time. She’d squirm whenever I started talking about ‘how sexy Daddy is’. Best way to get back at her when she was really pissing me off.”

  “Ah.”

  I take Daniel’s hand, stroking the back of it with my thumb. “Daniel, we both know there’s an age gap. But I don’t care. I mean, there are couples who are great that way and couples who aren’t. Just like people who are the same age, though. So no, I don’t have a real Daddy kink. It’s honestly just about you. I have a Daniel kink, a very serious one.”

  He nods, thinking. Finally, he says, “You scared the shit out of me when you drunkenly called me Daddy. My balls basically crawled up inside my body and shriveled.”

  I laugh. “Glad I could get them out then. I can just imagine it now,” I tell him, screwing up my face into my best Daniel impression. “Absolutely not, young lady. That is inappropriate.”

  Daniel takes the not-exactly-flattering impersonation with an easy smile. “Pretty good there.”

  “Thank you, I’ve had years to work on it, and it’s admittedly based on Elle’s version of you, which to note, sounds nothing like you. But okay, we definitely don’t want any weirdness,” I say more seriously, “so consider it lost from my vocabulary.”

  I proceed to ‘zip my lips’ and lock them, tossing the imaginary key over my shoulder before a thought comes to mind and I grin. “But if you accidentally slip up and call me ‘baby girl’, I definitely wouldn’t be offended.”

  “Is that so?” Daniel asks, smirking. “Noted. So, now what?”

  “Now, we eat breakfast.”

  “I can get with that,” he says, “but you’re sure you’re okay with our age difference? I’m imagining you in twenty years, still beautiful and vivacious, while I’m slow-stepping it with a walker to get to the bathroom, where I have to sit down to pee.”

  “That is oddly specific, but I don’t think that’s where you’re headed. You’re never going to be decrepit,” I assure him. “You live a healthy lifestyle and take care of yourself. I like that you’re mature, know who you are, and are confident in that. Does it bother you that I’m younger than you?”

  He’s quiet for a long moment, thinking. I don’t rush him because he's adjusting to this idea for the first time while I’ve been dreaming of it for years. “No, it doesn’t.”

  I scan him through narrowed eyes, noting the neutral look on his face and the direct eye contact. “Now try telling me the truth."

  He blinks slowly, not breaking, even as I glare harder. Finally, he sighs. “Okay, there are parts of me that are worried. You could be dating someone younger, better looking, and not married to their work.”

  I laugh loudly. “Younger, yes. Better looking? Seriously doubtful. Married to work?” I tilt my head thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s one of the things I like about you? You’re dedicated, hard-working, intelligent. But yet, when presented with something worthwhile, you will run off for a spontaneous beach weekend getaway.” I spread my hands through the air like Vanna White, gesturing to me, him, and the diner around us.

  “Point taken.”

  “Good,” I tell him, squeezing his fingers. “You let me decide who I want to fuck, date, and spend time with. I have a pretty good track record. And you figure out if you want to do those things with me.”