AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER1
“Seriously, you’re gorgeous. I’ve never seen an older woman as hot as you.”
Savina gritted her teeth, keeping the smile she’d pasted onto her face cemented in place. “Thank you.”
Her date sipped his drink before studying the packed pub. Savina drank the last of her wine and signaled the bartender for another. This would be her third glass, making it two more glasses than she usually drank, but she needed the liquid courage.
If you need liquid courage, you’re making the wrong decision.
No, she wasn’t. Michael was handsome and articulate, and he’d never once sent her a dick pic the entire time they’d texted. She was having sex with him tonight, and if she needed to be a little drunk to do it, that was okay.
“I’ll be right back.” Michael smiled at her. “Just need to use the restroom.”
“Sure,” she said.
She watched him weave past the tables, studying his ass in his jeans. He had a nice butt. Of course, she’d known that from his Instagram posts. Michael loved posting gym selfies.
She, on the other hand, never set foot in the gym. In fact, if she was being truthful, she and Michael had very little in common.
What does it matter? Tonight is about hooking up, not finding your soulmate.
The bartender set a new wine glass in front of her and took her empty. She nodded in thanks before sipping at the wine. Tonightwasabout hooking up, and she would have a damn good time doing it. Michael was the perfect guy to break her dry spell.
He’s younger than you!
That was true. Younger by a decade, in fact. But what did that matter? She’d been nearly fifteen years younger than Alan. She had zero interest in younger men, but after failing spectacularly with the men closer to her age, she’d decided to take a chance.
Michael slid back onto the barstool next to hers. She took another slug of wine when he rested his hand on her knee, hoping he hadn’t noticed how she tensed.
“So,” Michael’s gaze dropped to her breasts and then back to her face, “you must get tons of compliments on how young you look, huh? Because you definitely don’t look forty-three. I couldn’t believe it when I read your bio on the dating app.”
It was getting harder and harder to keep that smile on her face. She swallowed more wine and said, “I appreciate that, but I think I look my age.”
“You don’t. Trust me. I would normally never hook up with a woman older than me,” Michael said, “but you can pass for in your thirties, so I told myself to go for it. Especially since the older ladies are well known to have high sex drives.”
His lascivious grin made her smile slip. Did he think he was complimenting her?
Michael squeezed her knee before sliding his hand further up her thigh. She regretted wearing a dress when he slipped his fingers under the hem of it and -sweet Jesus- headed north.
She placed her hand on his, relieved when it stopped his forward motion. She glanced around the pub. No one paid attention to them, and she wasn’t against PDAs, but was this a thing men did now? Just stuck their hand up a woman’s dress in a crowded pub?
“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Michael squeezed her leg again.
“Nothing,” she said and drained the rest of her wine. Her head buzzed, her pulse thumped, and she knew she was drunk. But that’s what she wanted, right?
Sex for the first time since she’d gone from Savina Ras, wife, to Savina Ras, widow, required copious amounts of alcohol and a man she had no intention of ever seeing again.
“You ready to get out of here?” Michael waved down the bartender without waiting for her reply. “Hey, can we get our bill?”
The bartender brought their bill, and Michael scanned it as he pulled out his wallet. He handed his credit card to the bartender. “That’s to cover my drinks.”
Michael slid the bill across the bar to her. Her face burning, Savina took out some cash and handed it to the bartender. “Keep the change.”
“Paying with cash, huh?” Michael said. “Old school, I dig it.”
The bartender ran his card through the machine. Michael punched in some numbers and took the receipt, giving the bartender a defensive look when the man glanced at the receipt and then at him. “She covered the tip.”
“Right,” the bartender said. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, with tattoos covering his arms and small spreaders in his earlobes. His dark hair was a little longer than she liked, but he had beautiful dark brown eyes and a lean and muscular body. If Savina had been twenty years younger, hell, even ten years younger, she might have considered hitting on him.
