Love With A Younger Man

  Love with a Younger Man

  by

  Candy Caine

  Arrow Publications, LLC

  Bethesda, Maryland

  USA

  LOVE WITH A YOUNGER MAN

  Amber Martin ran from a painful past and into a successful career as a real estate agent. When she closes the most lucrative sale of her career, she invites her boyfriend, Geoffrey Cole, to a celebratory dinner. Egotistical, self-absorbed Geoffrey ruins the dinner to take care of business, causing Amber to take a hard look at their relationship. Realizing she will always take a backseat to his wheeling and dealing, an angry and hurt Amber goes clubbing with the goal of getting laid. She hooks up with Richard Harrington, a handsome, blue-eyed hunk of masculinity ten years her junior. Though she's as attracted to him as he seems to be with her, she decides to break it off before the novelty wears off for him and their age difference or race becomes a factor. Determined, Richard persuades her to see him again and just when things seem to be falling into place for Amber, she discovers you can't truly escape your past.

  Copyright © 2011 by Candy Caine

  ISBN: 978-1-934675-37-3

  All rights reserved.

  Except for use in reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, now in use or in the future without permission in writing from the publisher, Arrow Publications, LLC.

  Arrow Publications, LLC

  6701 Democracy Blvd.

  Suite 300

  Bethesda, MD 20817

  www.arrowpub.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to person’s living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  Warning: This e-book contains sexually explicit content, which is only suitable for mature readers

  Love With a Younger Man

  “Geoffrey, can you meet me at The Land’s End tonight?”

  “Umm…why such a fancy place? What’s the occasion?”

  “I’ll tell you my wonderful news when I see you.”

  “Big surprise, huh? I know, you won Lotto!”

  “Nope. Gotta be in it to win it, remember? I save my money by not playing.”

  “So, what’s so terrific?”

  “You just have to be patient and wait until tonight.”

  “You’re really not going to tell me until later, are you?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “You’re one tough lady.”

  “Like nails. See you at seven, and don’t be late,” I said, with laughter in my voice. I knew Geoffrey hated surprises. He always wanted to be in control. Well, not this time.

  Eve Jones, my boss and closest friend, came over to my desk to congratulate me. She was dressed in a silk, cream-colored Dior suit that hugged her full figure like a second skin, and her salt and pepper hair was swept up into a lovely hairdo, adding to the impression that she’d just stepped down out of a clothing billboard.

  “Amber! You did real good, girlfriend!”

  “Thanks. Hearing you say that means a great deal to me.”

  She grinned. “I could tell from the day I first interviewed you that you had what it took to succeed.”

  “You’ve always believed in me. Why?”

  She rested her hand on my shoulder. “Because I saw a lot of myself in you. You seemed to be motivated by the same hunger that drove me.”

  “If you hadn’t given me the chance, none of this would’ve been possible.”

  “I know. You haven’t disappointed me this far, and tomorrow will bring even better sales,” she said, hugging me. “You go, girl!”

  “Thank you,” I replied, sweeping away a stray tear.

  I owed Eve a great deal. I had come to her as an inexperienced real estate agent. Yet, she took a chance on me when others wouldn’t. I made a vow that she’d never regret it.

  Selling the Sterling estate was indeed a triumph. The 50 acre estate overlooking the Potomac River had been on the market for about a year. Not only did I make a cool $250,000 commission, but it also proved how far I’d come. I beat out a half-dozen other realtors for this prize and wanted to shout out from the top of the highest mountain, “Hey world, take a good look at me now.” Instead, I had to be satisfied with a celebration dinner at a fine restaurant with Geoffrey Cole—the guy I’d been seeing for a little more than a year.

  No one knew about my past. I’d spent many years reinventing myself so I could pass muster with the business elite. However, even now, during the culmination of my success, I still feared that someone would see me for the person I really was underneath the fine, expensive silk designer suits I wore.

  I left work early in order to get ready for that evening. I wanted to look as good as I felt. After my shower, I traded my conservative navy-blue suit for a sexy, red silk dress I’d gotten for just such a special occasion. It made my caramel-colored skin glow, and I left my long, black hair loose down my back just the way Geoffrey liked it. I had my doorman call a cab for me, and I was ready to celebrate.

  Geoffrey was at the table waiting for me when I arrived. He was dressed in a tailored, charcoal-gray, pinstriped suit. He held his cell phone against his ear, revealing the gold Rolex on his wrist. He was speaking sharply to the person on the other end. With his free hand, he motioned for me to sit down. He ended his conversation a moment later with his stock, “No excuses. Just get it done!” In business, he was a no-nonsense kind of guy. He hadn’t built a most sought-after multi-million dollar advertising agency by being Mr. Nice.

  He rose from his chair and came over to kiss me on the cheek. “Sorry about the call, darling. Problems with an account.”

  The waiter, dressed in an evening jacket, walked over to the table and handed us each a menu. “My name is Mark, and I will be your server for the evening. Would either of you care for a drink?”

  Looking at me, Geoffrey said, “I believe that champagne is in order.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  “Now do tell me what the big secret is.”

  “I sold the Sterling estate.”

  “How much commission will you get?”

  “$250,000.”

  He whistled. “How does it feel to win the proverbial brass ring?”

  You’ll never know how terrific. “As if I’m sitting on top of the world, especially because I worked so hard for it.”

  “Well, congratulations!” he said, just before his phone chirped again.

  How I hated that phone. He excused himself and answered. The call, lasting less than three minutes, angered him. Obviously, whoever was on the other end conducting the business transaction wasn’t too successful. Geoffrey didn’t keep unsuccessful people in his organization long. I found myself feeling sorry for whomever he was chastising.

  The waiter had brought the champagne over while Geoffrey was on the phone and started to remove the cork. Geoffrey rudely barked at him to just leave the bottle.

  When the phone call ended, I spoke up. “Sweetheart, why don’t you shut your phone off and let this be our night?”

  “You know I can’t very well do that now with such delicate negotiations going on.”

  “Really? It sounded more like a one-sided shouting match.”

  “You sound angry.”

  “Only because the calls are distressing you.”

  “They’ll be over soon,” he stated, as he popped the cork and poured us both a glass of champagne.

 
Before or after they totally ruin this meal? I thought.

  We were sipping our champagne and perusing the menu when Geoffrey’s cell phone chirped again. This did turn out to be the very last call, and it put an end to our dinner entirely.

  “Incompetent fool!” Geoffrey shouted into the phone, annoying everyone around us. “Can’t you do anything right? Sit tight. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  And where did I fit into this glorious plan, Geoffrey?

  “Amber, honey, I’m sorry. I must go.” Whipping out his wallet from his jacket pocket, he pulled out several large bills. “Here’s enough money to cover the dinner and a taxi.”

  I began to protest that I had invited him, but what the hell, I thought. Hadn’t he ruined my celebration dinner? I stuffed the money into my beaded purse.

  He kissed me on the cheek and was gone. To him, money could make everything right.

  Too bad it wouldn’t work tonight. You would think by now I’d be used to this happening. It was always all about Geoffrey. His needs and desires came first. How could I shine if he never let me turn my light on? To make matters worse, he hadn’t even noticed my sexy new dress!

  I blinked back the tears that had filled my dark brown eyes. However, anger quickly pushed aside the miserable way I’d been feeling. I wasn’t going to let him ruin my celebration. It just wasn’t my style. I intended to party without him and have the time of my life.

  When the waiter reappeared, I asked him to call me a taxi. I continued to sip my triumphant champagne and planned anew for the evening.

  I left the waiter a hefty tip as I left. When I emerged from the restaurant, the cab driver jumped out of the cab and opened the door for me. Such a gentleman, I mused as he asked: “Where to, ma’am?”

  “The Slow Dancer on Seventh.”

  The driver, of Middle Eastern descent, said in heavily accented English that he knew the place, so I settled back thinking about my plan of action. I intended to get trashed, pick up a guy, and take him home. To hell with Geoffrey if he happened to show up at my place!

  The Slow Dancer, right downtown Washington D.C., where the drinks were hard and the guys were hot and fast, was just the place to pick up a guy for a one-night stand. It was definitely the kind of place I would have gone to years ago—before I became so damned respectable. Geoffrey would never be caught dead in such a place—even if he could fit in.

  I was so angry with Geoffrey that I was finally able to admit what I’d been lying about to myself for months. The man, with his overinflated ego, bored me to death—especially in bed. Sex with him was always by the numbers. He had a set routine and never, ever deviated from it. I’d been willing to give up the pulsating excitement of good sex because Geoffrey had been the culmination of my striving for suitability. After all, he could be the poster boy for class. But tonight, he no longer seemed worth the trouble. I needed to be human again and feel my blood pumping through my veins.

  Perhaps I’d never truly changed, only camouflaged myself with the trappings of class. I never truly stopped fearing that somebody would discover what I’d been. Underneath all the fancy clothes I wore, I was still the same person my father had abused at night for years until I finally had enough courage to flee. Then, using the skills my father had taught me, I serviced men until I had enough money to put myself through school. Being light-skinned, I was able to service the most uppity slices of white bread who happened to pass my way. After I graduated, I began an entirely new life in a place where nobody knew me, and I hid my past under the guise of respectability.

  “We’re here, ma’am.”

  I paid him and added a generous tip and got out. The place looked like a dive—just what I needed. The music was pulsing from several speakers around the room. Several people were dancing on the small wooden dance floor. I noticed one couple making out in the corner as I headed to the bar and ordered a drink. Sipping on the drink, I turned and looked around.

  It was a diverse crowd. People were dressed in everything from leather to silk, showing off their body piercings and tattoos. A group of young men sat at one of the tables. They were dressed in suits and had probably come straight from work. One guy in particular was irresistibly adorable. As I watched him move from the corner of my eye, I fantasized about how he might look under his suit. Naughty girl, I thought, and smiled.

  Despite the fact that I knew the guy was young, I couldn’t stop myself from sneaking peeks at him and, to my surprise, often found him watching me. I soon realized that it was only a matter of time before he came over and made his move. Only, he wasn’t fast enough.

  A biker-type dressed in leather, as wide as he was tall, with arms looking like tree stumps, sauntered over and planted himself directly in front of me. His presence interrupted my thoughts and definitely upset my game plan. The tattoo of a skull on the side of his neck leered at me through black, eyeless sockets.

  “Buy you a drink?” His voice sounded more intimidating than inviting.

  “I’m not finished with this one.”

  “I’ll wait around.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  He glared at me, and I felt my heart skitter to a stop. However, I stood my ground. I’d known a lot of men like him. Finally, a moment later—which had seemed longer than forever—he walked away without saying another word. I breathed easily again.

  I wondered if the cute younger guy was ever going to make his move. He was the only man in the entire place who interested me. Then it occurred to me: what if I were misreading the entire situation? What if he thought I was too old for him?

  My hopes began to soar once more as I watched him rise and lean over to say something to one of his friends before finally walking in my direction. However, I realized he might not be coming to speak to me at all. He might be merely ordering himself another drink.

  Then I heard those beautiful words, “Your drink needs refreshing. Bartender, please give the lady another of what she’s drinking.”

  He was even cuter close up. He had neatly combed dirty-blond hair and deep, ocean-blue eyes. I imagined drowning in them. When he smiled, he revealed straight white teeth and two adorable dimples that complemented the deep cleft in his chin. His smooth, clean-shaven fair skin pulled taut over high ridge cheekbones that gave him a slightly exotic look. He was fairly tall and towered over me, which I guessed would put him around six-feet-two. From the way his suit fit him, I could tell he was cut just right underneath. He would most definitely do. The thought nearly started me creaming in my pants.

  “Thank you…”

  “Richard Harrington,” he said, extending his hand, which felt smooth and looked like it hadn’t seen a day’s labor.

  “Amber Martin,” I replied, my hand still held by his. I didn’t mind. The vibes I felt were good ones.

  “So Amber Martin, tell me in ten words or less, what do you do to keep yourself in such fine clothes?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Now that’s a fresh spin on the question of what do you do? I’m a real estate agent, and you?”

  “A corporate lawyer.”

  “Are you as important as you sound?”

  Richard laughed. “Only in my own mind.”

  “Good answer. You look too young to be that important.”

  “Really? And exactly how young do you think I am?”

  “Fresh out of law school. Twenty-four or five, at most.”

  “You’re good. I just turned twenty-five.”

  I wondered if I should come clean and let him know that I was ten years older than he was. If I did, I ran the risk of scaring him off. That would put a huge dent in my plans. I didn’t want him to take the decision out of my hands.

  “Before you say anything, I want you to know, up front, that I prefer mature women. The women my age are such airheads.”

  “Really?”

  “Unequivocally.”

  The banter between us was light, and the drinks had softened all the sharp edges around me. My motor was already purring
, and I wanted to get the show on the road. “Let’s dance,” I suggested, taking his hand.

  He took my hand, and we made our way to the small dance floor. The music was lively, but I began to move seductively to the rhythm. I could see that he was enjoying the show as he tried to keep pace with me. His friends hooted and whistled, egging him on. The next song was a slow one. He smiled as I nestled in his arms, our bodies melding to each other. His reaction was way more obvious than mine, although I felt the same. It was time to make my move.

  “Let’s get out of here and go to my place,” I whispered, brushing my lips lightly against his ear.

  “I’ll let my friends know we’re leaving.”

  A moment later, Richard was back at my side. His arm rested lightly on my lower back, guiding me out of the bar. We walked toward his car, but only got halfway before he stopped and took me into his arms and kissed me. The kiss sent a wakeup call to the rest of me. That guy certainly knew how to kiss a woman. I felt its effects long after. My passion, now stoked, simmered.

  His car was low and sleek, just as I’d expected it to be. He held open the door for me as I slid in. Because my dress was short, he got an eyeful. I smiled to myself as I saw him swallow hard. After he got into the car, he leaned over and kissed me again. The kiss sent new spirals of ecstasy through me. I couldn’t wait to get home and start unwrapping him.

  “Now, where did you say your place was?”

  I gave him directions, and he drove with the air of a man who knew what he wanted and got it. I guessed he was a good lawyer. He whistled when he saw my building, a new high-rise downtown. “You must be good at what you do,” he said, as the doorman held the door open for us to pass.

  “Oh, baby, you don’t know the half of it.” He smiled.

  We barely had the apartment door closed behind us before we were locked in an embrace. There was something about this guy that made me act like a teenager again. As his lips gently slipped down my neck, I realized I hadn’t felt this alive in years!