anticipation licked through her because she knew he was far from done for the night.
Captain Caleb Tate was fifteen years younger than she was. But since she was at her sexual peak, they synched up in bed a helluva lot better than she had with her last husband, who’d been twenty years her senior. Or her first husband, who’d been a selfish lover when he was sober and a fumbling non-finisher when he was drunk, which had happened most of the time in their last year together.
Or her high school boyfriend who’d thought it was cool to slap her around and she’d been too insecure to walk away.
This new relationship with a younger lover was definitely the way for her to go. She was in control, satisfied, and
free.
Caleb’s final shout echoed through her room, deep and carnal and delicious. He rolled from her onto his back, panting, his wrist over his eyes.
Madison flung her arms wide, replete. For now. She let her eyes rove unabashedly—from his buzzed fair hair to his tanned skin glistening with sweat. Six feet three inches of big blond man sprawled, taking up more thanhalf the space in her king-size bed. She’d been sleeping with him for two months but hadn’t tired of looking at him yet.
She liked their clandestine meetings—keeping their affair a secret, at her request, from the start. Earlier in the summer, he’d come by the house looking for David one Saturday afternoon, but David hadn’t been around. Caleb had looked so shattered about the accident and the upcoming trial, she’d invited him up to share a pizza and a glass of Merlot. He had
not
gotten drunk, and he’d been far from fumbling.
Exhaling hard, Caleb swung his feet to the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Want something?”
He had the quaintest way of never saying he was going to the bathroom to ditch his condom, always couching it in a gentlemanly offer to get something for her. He was so damn sweet.
“I’m good. Thank you, though.” She touched his back, scoring her nails lightly down his spine as he left her. Her eyes lingered on the flex of his taut butt as he walked across the room. She’d redone the room after her divorce, spent a fortune, and sent the bill to her cheating ex who’d “interviewed” his next trophy wife on their bed.
Forget traditional elegance, she’d gone for making a slamming statement in eclectic contemporary: yellow walls with brown and gold accessories. Most important, a brand-new chic platform bed.
She gathered up the down coverlet to her chest and reached for the phone to check the missed call. She thumbed through the directory and found…
Sophie Campbell?
“Madison?” Caleb stood in the open bathroomdoorway, so mouthwateringly naked, she almost pitched the phone to the floor. “Something wrong?”
“It’s Sophie Campbell—her son has started playing with Haley Rose.”
His face closed up tight. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and pulled a half smile. “I didn’t realize you were friendly with the enemy.”
“We’re not friends—the kids are. Haley Rose met the Campbell boy on the school bus last week.” She pressed the phone to her chest. “I should call her back. It could be something about the children.”
“Then your brother should handle it when he gets home from playing goofy golf with his daughter.” He dropped a knee onto the bed and crawled back over her, kissing her stomach and plucking the phone from her slackening grip. “How about I distract you while we wait for my mojo to kick in again?”
“Tempting.” Definitely. “But no thank you.” She grabbed his ear and tugged him upward.
“Damn it, Madison, that hurts.” He stretched out beside her.
“Then don’t try to manipulate me.” She snatched the phone back from him. “I enjoy helping with Haley Rose. She’s like my one shot at motherhood, except I never have to change diapers or pay for college. Sweet deal for me.”
“You could have kids.”
If he thought
Captain Caleb Tate was fifteen years younger than she was. But since she was at her sexual peak, they synched up in bed a helluva lot better than she had with her last husband, who’d been twenty years her senior. Or her first husband, who’d been a selfish lover when he was sober and a fumbling non-finisher when he was drunk, which had happened most of the time in their last year together.
Or her high school boyfriend who’d thought it was cool to slap her around and she’d been too insecure to walk away.
This new relationship with a younger lover was definitely the way for her to go. She was in control, satisfied, and
free.
Caleb’s final shout echoed through her room, deep and carnal and delicious. He rolled from her onto his back, panting, his wrist over his eyes.
Madison flung her arms wide, replete. For now. She let her eyes rove unabashedly—from his buzzed fair hair to his tanned skin glistening with sweat. Six feet three inches of big blond man sprawled, taking up more thanhalf the space in her king-size bed. She’d been sleeping with him for two months but hadn’t tired of looking at him yet.
She liked their clandestine meetings—keeping their affair a secret, at her request, from the start. Earlier in the summer, he’d come by the house looking for David one Saturday afternoon, but David hadn’t been around. Caleb had looked so shattered about the accident and the upcoming trial, she’d invited him up to share a pizza and a glass of Merlot. He had
not
gotten drunk, and he’d been far from fumbling.
Exhaling hard, Caleb swung his feet to the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Want something?”
He had the quaintest way of never saying he was going to the bathroom to ditch his condom, always couching it in a gentlemanly offer to get something for her. He was so damn sweet.
“I’m good. Thank you, though.” She touched his back, scoring her nails lightly down his spine as he left her. Her eyes lingered on the flex of his taut butt as he walked across the room. She’d redone the room after her divorce, spent a fortune, and sent the bill to her cheating ex who’d “interviewed” his next trophy wife on their bed.
Forget traditional elegance, she’d gone for making a slamming statement in eclectic contemporary: yellow walls with brown and gold accessories. Most important, a brand-new chic platform bed.
She gathered up the down coverlet to her chest and reached for the phone to check the missed call. She thumbed through the directory and found…
Sophie Campbell?
“Madison?” Caleb stood in the open bathroomdoorway, so mouthwateringly naked, she almost pitched the phone to the floor. “Something wrong?”
“It’s Sophie Campbell—her son has started playing with Haley Rose.”
His face closed up tight. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and pulled a half smile. “I didn’t realize you were friendly with the enemy.”
“We’re not friends—the kids are. Haley Rose met the Campbell boy on the school bus last week.” She pressed the phone to her chest. “I should call her back. It could be something about the children.”
“Then your brother should handle it when he gets home from playing goofy golf with his daughter.” He dropped a knee onto the bed and crawled back over her, kissing her stomach and plucking the phone from her slackening grip. “How about I distract you while we wait for my mojo to kick in again?”
“Tempting.” Definitely. “But no thank you.” She grabbed his ear and tugged him upward.
“Damn it, Madison, that hurts.” He stretched out beside her.
“Then don’t try to manipulate me.” She snatched the phone back from him. “I enjoy helping with Haley Rose. She’s like my one shot at motherhood, except I never have to change diapers or pay for college. Sweet deal for me.”
“You could have kids.”
If he thought
Similar Books
