Read Mid Life Love Online

Authors: Whitney Gracia Williams

Tags: #mid life love, #mid life romance, #older heroine, #Alpha Male, #whitney gracia

Mid Life Love (41 page)

I shut my eyes and kept kissing him, pressing myself
against his chest—trying to force his lips apart with my tongue. It wasn’t
until I blinked my eyes open that I realized he wasn’t kissing me back.

I drew my arms away and stepped back—noticing that
he was still raising his eyebrow at me, confused. I looked out into the silent
crowd, blushing bright red as the women began whispering to one another.

“I’m...I’m so sorry...” I stammered. “I thought that if
I...that if I...” I felt the tears falling. “I’m sorry...I...” I looked around at all
the people on the stage, at the angry expression that was on Damien’s face.

I turned around to face Jonathan again and shook my
head. “I’ll get out of your way now...I...I really am sorry and—”

“Don’t be.” He pulled me back into his arms and
pressed his lips against mine, suffocating me with a long, appreciative kiss. I
could feel his mouth upturned into a smile as he caressed my tongue with his,
as he kissed me like there was no tomorrow.

“Mr. Statham...” Greg cleared his throat, but Jonathan
held me even tighter and kept kissing me.

“Mr. Statham?
Mr. Statham
!” Greg’s voice was
firmer, making Jonathan finally pull away.

“Yes, Greg?” He grinned at me.

“You have a list of other people to take pictures
with and speak to tonight. If you would like, I can escort Miss—”

“No, I’ll take care of it.” He kissed me one more
time and walked over to the people on the other side of the stage.

I could only hear fragments of what he was
saying—“First thing tomorrow...” “I need to address this now...” “Yes, I’ll sign
whatever you want tomorrow...” “I’ll donate double...” “Thank you so much...”

The orchestra began to play on the back stage—one of
the organizers had frantically run back there once I kissed him, and the crowd
slowly diverted their attention from us to the dance floor. 

I saw him walk over to Stacy and say a few words,
and then I felt Damien grabbing my hand.

“Is this some type of joke, Claire?” His eyes
hardened. “I bring you here and you fuck my competition?”


What
?”

“Is that what you’ve been doing during the day while
I’ve been at meetings? Sleeping with Jonathan Statham behind my back?” He
sounded more angry than hurt. “Do you know how what you just did makes me
look
?
Did you even think about that?”

“Damien, I’m sorry you had to find out this way
but...I’m in love with Jonathan and I have been for a while now...I’m sorry for
agreeing to date you when I wasn’t over him. I really do mean—”

“This is why I only date
younger women
. I
should’ve known that someone like you with all your baggage—”


Excuse me
?” Jonathan wrapped his arm around
my waist. “Is there a problem here, Damien?”

“No...” Damien seemed to wither a bit.

“Are you sure?” Jonathan’s tone was threatening. I’d
never heard him this heated before. “Is there something you and I need to
discuss
outside
? It can be arranged...”

“Fuck you, Jonathan.” Damien narrowed his eyes at
me. “And
fuck you too
, Claire.” He said something else under his breath
as he walked away.

“See? I wasn’t lying to you.” Jonathan said. “He
wasn’t right for you at all...” He kissed my hair and led me off the stage and
out of the ballroom. As we walked towards the elevators, he kept looking down
and smiling at me.

I wanted to ask what he was smiling about, but I was
happy simply seeing him smile again—for whatever reason it was.

We rode up to his floor in silence, staring at one
another while we held hands, communicating with our eyes.

I wanted him to touch me again, to kiss me again,
but it seemed like he was content simply holding back. 

“Mr. Statham, Miss Gracen,” the bellman said once we
arrived. “Have a great evening.”

“Thank you,” we said in unison.

I followed him to his suite and he pulled me inside,
pushing me against the wall as soon as the door shut. “I can’t believe you did
that...That was quite
shocking
...” He pulled a clip out of my hair and
kissed my neck.

“And why is that?” I moaned as he grazed my skin
with his teeth.

“The Claire Gracen I know would never run on stage
and kiss me like that, especially not with everyone watching...”

“The Jonathan Statham I know wouldn’t be
analyzing
anything that Claire Gracen does.”

“That kiss doesn’t excuse you leaving me for three
months.” He removed another clip. “I’m still very angry with you...”

“I love you too.”

He grinned as he looked into my eyes. “Say it
again.”

“I don’t feel like it right now. I need to take off
my dress first, and then I’ll need to
think
about repeating it.”

“Are you being difficult with me on purpose,
Claire?” He reached behind me and brushed his fingers against the zipper of my
dress. “
Say
.
It
.
Again
.”

“After I take my dress off.”

“Your dress isn’t coming off.” He unbuckled his
pants and pressed his erection against my thigh.

“Why not?”

He reached underneath my dress and felt around for
my panties, smiling when he didn’t find any. “Because I’m going to make love to
you while you’re wearing it, and I’m not going to stop until it falls off.” He
traced my jawline with his fingertips. “And because it always takes you half an
hour to get undressed, and I’ve waited long enough.” He picked me up and
carried me into the bedroom, gently laying me on the bed.

He slid his shirt over his head and stepped out of
his pants. Then he slowly moved on top of me. “Now, you know how I feel about
repeating
myself
. That hasn’t changed since you left me, so I’m going to give you one
last chance to—”

“I love you, Jonathan.”

He smiled as he bent down and gently traced my lips
with his tongue. “I love you too, Claire.”

––––––––

I
opened my eyes and smiled at Jonathan. I was
curled up against him in a huge Jacuzzi, relaxing as his hands lathered shampoo
into my hair.

I was sure we’d broken the world record for the
number of times we’d had sex tonight, and if we hadn’t, I was sure that we
would break it tomorrow.

I sighed as he poured a wooden ladle over my head to
rinse out my hair. He was careful not to let the suds fall anywhere near my
eyes, scooping just enough water that the soap fell down my back.   

“I need you to promise me something, Claire.” He
kissed the back of my neck.

“What is it?”

“That you’ll never leave me again. Once was more
than enough.”

“I promise.”

“Good...” He set the ladle on the ledge. “Because if
you go back on your word and even
attempt
to leave me again, I guarantee
I won’t let you stay away for three fucking months. You’ll be lucky if you get
away for three minutes.”

“Have I ever told you how romantic you are?”

“It’s part of my appeal.”

I smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Are you and your mother okay now?”

He stilled. “We haven’t been with each other in
forever and you care about the person who pulled us apart?”

I nodded.

“We’re okay,” he said, sighing. “I’m paying for her
to get one on one counseling and we see each other once a week over lunch.
Maybe with time we’ll do more, but that’s all I can handle right now. I don’t
appreciate the way she treated you, and it’ll take me a while to get over
that.”

My heart swelled. “I was just wondering...”

“I really would’ve believed you.” He gripped my hips
and swiveled me around so I was facing him, straddling his lap. “You should’ve
told me and all this never would’ve happened.”

“I know...”

“Don’t keep anything like that from me again. We’re
not supposed to have boundaries, remember?” He kissed my lips and I nodded.

He picked up a loofah from the side of the tub and
brushed it against my arms. He massaged my wrists and brought my right hand up
to his face.

“How did this happen?” He circled a purple bruise
with his thumb.

“I was running on the bridge one night and I slipped
over some glass on the sidewalk. I used my wrist to brace the fall and nearly
broke it on the way down. I had cuts everywhere.”

His jaw tensed. “When was this?”

“It was three or four weeks ago. Strangest thing
though: As soon as I fell, these two guys came out of nowhere and bandaged all
my cuts up. They even carried me back to my car...They said they were EMTs out on
a late night jog and always carried their backpacks just in case something like
that happened...Crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Extremely crazy.” The muscles in his face relaxed
and he washed me until I was clean. “Your turn,
sweetheart
.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. I reached over to grab
another loofah and saw a thick ring band on the ledge. It was silver and it had
the engravings of all the same charms I had in the necklace he’d given me—even
the white and red flags. The only difference was that the entwined “M” and “L”
were repeated twice and our names were etched in tiny cursive within each
letter.

“You had a ring made to match my charm necklace?”

He nodded. “I was going to show it to you the day
you left me...I wanted us to open our boxes together.”

“Hmmm.” I ran the loofah against his chest. “What do
the “M” and the “L” stand for?”

“I never said anything about that to you before?”

“No...” I shook my head.

“Well,
guess
.”

“My love?”

“No.” He kissed my shoulder.

“Mid-life?”

“No.”

“Mid-life love?”


Mid-life love
?” He raised his eyebrow. “You
think I would honestly give you something that stood for that?”

“No, but...” I shrugged. I couldn’t think of anything
else. “Tell me what it means then...”

He sighed and took the loofah away from me. He
pulled me against his chest and kissed my hair, running his fingertips against
my lips. “
My last
.”

The
End

Wasted
Love Excerpt

***s
ubject to change before publication***

“Don’t get married at eighteen,
Autumn...You’ll regret it...”—My mother, six years ago.

Chapter 1

Autumn

I don’t love my husband—not anymore, anyway. Our
flame burnt out a long time ago, and no matter how many times I try to convince
myself that it’ll come back, that one day I’ll feel those magic sparks between
us again, nothing happens.

I married him when I was eighteen years old—when I
was young, dumb, and thought I knew everything. I was so wrapped up in the
whole “But mom,
I love him
!” and “He’s the only person I can discuss my
deep, dark past with!” that I didn’t realize what I was doing. (By the way,
having strict parents who enforce a midnight curfew hardly equates to having a
“deep, dark past.”)

I don’t even think I’m attracted to my husband
anymore.

As of matter of fact, he’s on top of me right now,
straddling me—thrusting in and out of me, and the only thing I can think about
is whether or not I turned off our coffeemaker.

I think I hit the switch...Did I hit the
switch?

“You like that baby?” he asks, bringing his lips
close to mine. “You like the way this feels?”

“Oh yeahhh.” I moan.

Wait. Didn’t I say “Oh yeahhhh” ten
seconds ago? Damnit... “Oh, baby.” Say “Oh, baby” next...

“Autumnnn.”

“Ohhh babyyy...” I run my hands across his back,
thinking that I really didn’t turn off that coffeemaker.

He speeds up his thrusts, gripping my breasts like
he’s attempting to yank them off my body. He’s groaning ferociously now, making
some type of disturbing animal sound. (It’s a cross between a wounded bear and
a dying tiger.)

“Fuckkkk, Autumnnnn.” He pants. “Can you feel me
baby? I’m about to—”

“Yessss.” I freeze my eyeballs to their sockets.
“I’m almost
there
...” And with that, I moan even louder—sucking in
breaths, shaking my legs, faking yet
another
orgasm.

I should start keeping count...

He collapses on top of me, his chest pressed against
my breasts, and then he whispers, “I love you, Autumn.”

I say it back because I always say it back, because
that coffee maker is bothering the hell out of me and I need an excuse to get
up.

“That was
amazing
.” I rub his back with my
palms. “Let me go make breakfast. You want waffles?”

“Sure, sweetie.” He lifts his head up and kisses me
one more time. Then he rolls over, allowing me to get out of bed.

I wrap myself in a robe and head into the kitchen.
As soon as I hit the lights, I look over at the counter.

I didn’t turn it off...I knew it!

I pull out a box of waffle mix and a package of
bacon. Usually, Kyle offers to make breakfast after sex, but I need a moment
alone to think today. 

I need a fucking break.

***

Dear
Reader,

I
would let you read more of “Wasted Love” right now, but...You. Are. Not. Ready!

I’ll
release it to you as fast as I can.

Love,

Whit’

***

Acknowledgments:

O
kay, where do I even start with this one? Let me
first say that this book would’ve never been possible without the most AMAZING
beta readers in the world!

Tamisha Joiner, THANK YOU so much for encouraging me
to change this from a novella to a full length novel! (I looked back at the
first few drafts and
cringed
...Jonathan Statham was so NOT sexy then lol)
Most importantly, thank you for encouraging me to
take my time
and put
out the best book possible for my amazing readers. I don’t know how I would’ve
done any of this without you—the back and forth calls, the text messages, my
incessant ramblings about nothing at all. This book is as much mine as it is
yours—THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! (Now that we don’t have fifty million
email threads going on about “MLL,” it’s time to focus
all of the attention
on your upcoming wedding! :-)... Can’t wait!)

Tiffany Downs, you’re WONDERFUL.  Point blank.
Period.  I can’t count how many times we had to restart that epic “Mid Life
Love First Six” thread. And OMG, I just realized that you were reading A LOT of
this between planning the last details of your wedding and becoming a newlywed!
(That is definitely love...) I can’t say THANK YOU enough for putting up with me
and my rants, and being the great balance between me and Miss
‘I-get-too-involved-with-the-characters’ Tamisha. LOL. Your suggestions,
critiques (even the overly “mushy” ones), and willingness to listen to me say the
same thing over and over again really helped me :-) (Now, go find me a Jonathan
Statham in real life...)

Nadira Williams, I want you to know that I have the
following texts saved in my phone: “Seriously though, I need that fucking book
in my life!” and “It’s so good! Don’t be worried!” I can’t thank you enough for
reading it through and through, demanding more chapters, and making the
necessary corrections for me. You know, I would take this opportunity to
restart the debate about who is smarter between the two of us, but I won’t...LOL.
I appreciate you encouraging me to stay strong when I needed it, and to stop
focusing on what other people were doing. “Gosh, I’m so fucking excited for
this book!”—You literally just texted me that a few seconds ago... THANK YOU!!!

Alonna Grigsby, your editing comments made me laugh
out loud and I’ve saved them all to my laptop: “I woke up in a new Bugatti.”
“Wait...This man might be crazy...”  “Oh...This man IS crazy!!!” “Wait a
minute...They’re not getting married?!” Thank you for reading this once you were
done with grad classes and helping me make certain parts more realistic. Does
this book count as one of our summer reading books? I really think it should!
:-)

Antoine Neal, thanks for reading this “GIRL PORN,
GIRL PORN” (as you would say) and helping me out with the characters’
conversations in the beginning...You were right... “Hot mess” would not have worked
and Jonathan’s hair does not have the ability to change colors between scenes
lol THANK YOU :-)

Jennifer Williams, you’re still the best sister in
the world and always will be. I thank you for believing in everything I write.
[“They didn’t ‘believesss’ in the book!” :-)]

Jay Williams and William Ray Edwards II—Thank you
for respecting “my zone” and interrupting it on some nights with random dances
and YouTube videos.

To my parents....I hope you only
bought
this
book and aren’t reading it because that would be AWKWARD—I mean, I’m fine with
you reading the
Jilted Bride Series
, but this?
Put it down
!

To my friends that I admire from afar: Aster
Teclay, Ashley Warren, Tanisha Hill, Sherbrina Shepherd, Christina Royster,
Courtney Johnson, Angelica Harris, Vince Cunningham, and Karleic Ellison.

To fellow Memphian Justin Timberlake, Thank you for
releasing
The 20/20 Experience
just in time—It made my writing flow so
much better! (Please perform “Spaceship Coupe” and “Strawberry Bubblegum” when
you come home in November!!!)

To Colleen Hoover, Jamie McGuire, Abbi Glines,
Arianne Richmonde, Theresa Ragan, Mimi Strong, Shanora Williams, Abria Mattina,
and many more indie authors whom I admire and look up to. I stalk you all
religiously and learn more and more from you every day...Yes, I’m borderline
creepy, but whatevs :-)

To every book blogger, Goodreads reader, and early
reviewer who took a chance on me and gave me a review (good or bad) THANK YOU
for your generosity and your time :-)

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, THANK YOU, INCREDIBLE READER
for reading this book all the way to the end :-).

––––––––

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