Page 94 of My Damaged Protector

“Is cooking something you love to do?” she asks challengingly.

I let myself think about her question. Cooking is not something I would particularly say I love doing. I don't hate it, either. I find it fun, and I do it once in a while when I feel like doing something to keep myself busy.

“I guess,” I finally say.

“Well, while you have to think and then come up withI guessas a response, my aunt doesn't have to guess or think before she answers. She loved cooking way before I was born.”

“Well, not before I was born.”

If Sheila is older than me, it's probably going to be by a decade or fifteen years, tops. I don't particularly care about the age gap though, except when it's regarding someone I'm involved with. Something that was a problem between me and Sarah back in the day.

As if she could read my thoughts, her eyes darken, and she looks away from me.

“We get it, you're an old man.”

There's a teasing to her words, but there's also some bitterness. It's almost like she's remembering all the times I turned her down because of our age gap.

“You're not so young anymore yourself,” I say.

She looks at me, a questioning look in her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm just saying that you've grown more beautiful in these past years. I know I don't say it much, but you're fucking beautiful, Sarah.”

Our eyes lock at my words, and she stares hard at me, searching for I have no idea what.

She cuts off the look and stares at the floor.

“I should go,” she mumbles, but she doesn't move.

Her eyes flit to me and quickly move away, but not before I see the direction of her gaze.

I have an erection.

And now that she's made me aware of it, it's not just growing. It's hard.

“Why?” I challenge.

She blows out her breath, sparing me a glance but she looks away again.

“You know why.”

I do.

And now I'm seeing that while her mouth may be saying one thing, her body is telling an entirely different story. I move toward her.

She lets out a shaky breath when I'm finally in front of her, and I start to use my body to lead hers to a wall.

“Ian,” she tries to say in protest, but it comes out more as a plea.

She wants this, too. She wants me.

“Shhhh,” I whisper, bending my head to her neck now that her back is to a wall. I kiss her neck, my tongue diving out to explore her soft skin. She goes limp.

My palms go to her chest to find her plump breast with her hard nipples.

She whimpers at my touch, her body pressing into me for a relief she won't admit she wants. I work her nipples for a while, making sure she's very horny before I speak again.

“Do you still want to go?” I ask her, my heart pounding hard in my chest.

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