My stomach sinks. I honestly never thought about whether Benny would care how old I am. What does an age difference matter if this is just a casual fling? But then I start to panic. How young is he?
“What’s a lot?” I ask. “Are you over forty?”
He shakes his head. “Thirty-one, sweetheart.”
My shoulders sag. “You’re a baby.” What I mean, though, is he’s young enough to have never been married. To never have had kids. Most of my friends are through their first marriages. Some are on their second divorces. A couple have young kids, but a lot more have kids who are already in middle school. All of that is ahead for Benny. There’s no reason why he should spend the next however much time with someone he could definitely not have any of those things with.
“I’m hardly a baby,” Benny says. “But you’re probably not going to have kids, then?”
A cold chill creeps up the back of my neck. This is why I keep things casual. This is why I don’t stay with one guy or in one place for too long.
“I don’t want children,” I tell him, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “I never have. My age has nothing to do with that.”
He’s quiet, studying my face in a way that makes me feel exposed. I reach for the sheets and wrap myself up. He doesn’t say anything, just waiting, I guess, for me to explain myself. I shouldn’t have to explain myself. Not having kids, not wanting to be a mother, shouldn’t be something I have to defend. Not to anyone. And yet, it feels like I owe this to him. I hate that feeling.
Benny must read the look on my face, or maybe it’s the way I’ve pulled back and wrapped myself up. Because the next thing I know, he’s kneeling on the bed and taking me in his arms.
“Hey,” he says. “Come here.”
He sits back against the headboard and holds me, still wrapped in the sheet, in his arms.
“I had an amazing childhood,” he offers. “Two amazing parents. Three older siblings who adore the shit out of me. They can be assholes, but they’re my assholes.” He chuckles. “Truthbe told, there’s so much chaos in my life with my business, I don’t know if I have enough energy for a relationship, let alone parenthood.”
I listen, not sure what he’s getting at.
“I don’t know if I ever want kids,” he says. “I love my family and they mean everything to me, but…” He shrugs. “Willow, I don’t care how old you are. I don’t care if you’re past your childbearing years.” He releases me only to make air quotes around childbearing. Then he wraps me up in his heat again. “I fucking love whatever this is we’re doing. And I’m okay to keep doing it, without condoms, as long as you feel safe to.”
I turn to look at him, his seductive grin turning my insides to hot jelly.
“Is it weird that I kind of love the fact that I’m banging a cougar?”
“How about we not call it anything?” I ask, my shoulders softening. “We’re two grown adults, two consenting adults, and…”
I stop when he takes my face in his hands. “Yes, we are. Enough about the age gap, the kids shit… Now, can we get back to doing what we do best? Just being us?”
“Just being us,” I echo. That is what I want. Easy. Fun. Light. “I think I can do that.”
“So, are we being us with condoms or without?” he asks. “Because I’ll walk down the hall naked and grab some from my place if that’s what it takes.”
I stifle a laugh. “I’m not about to let any of the other women in this building see what they’re missing out on. All of this is mine for now.”
For now.
The words rise between us like a wall, but Benny doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“I’m all yours, babe,” he agrees, then grabs my face and pulls me close.
Now our kisses are frenzied, his tongue hot and searching. The sheet falls away from my shoulders, and I don’t know if he’s yanked it away or if I’ve shrugged it off, and I don’t care. I’m so hot for Benny. Hot for younger-than-me, impulsive, hothead Benny. This is all mine, and even iffor nowmeans weeks and not the months to one year that I’d planned, I’d rather have what I can get of him than let any of this go.
We kiss, kneeling on the bed until we collapse, Benny lying on his back and me straddling him. But he seems to have other ideas.
“Lie back,” he says. “I want a taste.”
I close my eyes and lose myself in the gentle kisses, until I feel his palms open my thighs wider.
I arch my hips, aching to feel any part of him inside me. He kisses my pussy, licking and stroking my clit, bringing me agonizing, beautiful pleasure but never entering me.
I roll my hips, I tear my fingers through his thick hair, but he never moves his mouth from my pussy. I’m ready to explode when I feel a rush of cold air as he moves away.
