Page 93 of The Situation
He blows across the dampened skin. “Shut up.”
“It’s true.” Goose bumps flare down my arms. “Our age gap doesn’t bother you?”
He stands, rolling his eyes, irritated with me. “No. It doesn’t. If anything, it makes it hotter. If I wanted someone younger, I’d get one. And if I wanted someone more beautiful …”
I hold my breath, bracing myself for whatever he’s about to say.
He leans in and kisses me. “I’d never find anyone.”
He peers into my eyes, letting me see all of him. There’s no shield, no games—there’s nothing but raw, genuineness reflected at me.
I’m done. I’m done questioning this. I’m done asking if it’s real, if it’s too soon, or why it’s happening at all.
I’ve been on a quest to do the right thing and create a life I love. But if I stop being myself, if I stop trusting my gut—am I simply pretending to be someone I’m not?
Because Aurora Johnson is a romantic. I follow my heart. It might not always work out for me, but does anything ever work out every time?
If I want to live my whole truth, I need to lean into the pillars that make me who I am. That includes falling in love, no matter the circumstances.
A slow smile slips across my face as the trepidation I’ve lived with washes away. In its place is relief … and a tingling in my chest.
“Come here,” I say, pulling him to me.
I don’t know what’s come over me, but I’m not fighting it—or him, anymore.
ChapterTwenty-One
Tate
Aurora grabs the waistband of my pants and drags me to her.
Blood hammers in my ears as she undoes my belt and then the button on my fly. She looks up at me through her thick lashes and slowly pulls the belt from around my middle. It snaps as it frees and hits the floor.
Her grin is coy.She knows what she’s doing to me.
“I want to fuck you,” I say, my breath hot. Every move she makes causes her knuckles to brush against my bulge. As much as I like to think I have self-restraint, I can’t seem to find it tonight.
She shakes her head.
“What do you meanno?” I ask.
“Be patient.”
Be patient, my ass.I yank my shirt off and toss it onto the counter. Her palms waste no time finding my bare skin, exploring the ridges and valleys of my abs.
Her touch is like bolts of thunder echoing through my body. I shiver, clenching my hands so I don’t grab her and sink my dick into that sweet little pussy.
She steps back, teasing me—bending over to gather the hem of her dress. The view of the tops of her tits is unobstructed, and I want to feel them in my hands. In my mouth. Pressed against my torso as she comes.
My cock pushes against its constraints, the head already swollen for her.
“It’s getting hot in here, isn’t it?” she asks coyly before dragging the pale yellow material over her head.
Inch by inch, her body is exposed. Soft curves. Delicate dips. Round edges.Pure perfection.
“I’ve jacked off to the idea of you so many times,” I say, watching her turn in a circle for me. “And, to think, you were real all of this time.”
“Is there anyone here?” she asks. “Can the security guys see inside the house?”
