Tease Me Read online

  Tease Me

  Mayim Merman Series Book 2

  Amber Dark

  Contents

  Misty

  Mayim

  Misty

  Mayim

  Misty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other books by Amber Dark

  Copyright

  ISBN: (Kindle) 978-1-925450-56-9

  Written and edited in US English.

  Tease Me

  Copyright © 2020 by Amber Dark

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Clarendon 3 Publishing (www.clarendon3.com).

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art thanks to Charmaine Ross Book Cover Designs.

  Editorial support thanks to Giggle Girl Editing Services.

  Tease Me

  All I’ve done since my husband left me is cry, eat ice-cream, and wallow in self-pity.

  But now, I can have sex…with a stranger.

  I can have wild sex with someone who just wants to get laid.

  No commitments.

  I’m going to do this. I’m going to do something new.

  I’m going to put my needs before others…for the first time in years.

  “I’ve never been with anyone else except my husband,” I confess.

  “I don’t care,” he says.

  So why did I?

  Note - This book contains smoking hot sex scenes, plenty of swearing, and a whole lot of titillating pleasure. All sex is consensual, and you must be aged 18+ to read it.

  Misty

  I’ve had enough. It’s nine o’clock, and I’m wondering if anyone would notice if I left this Bachelorette party early.

  I’m forty-five, not twenty-five, and after raising four children and now dealing with the marital separation from the love of my life, my high school sweetheart, Dean, I’d rather be at home watching TV.

  Apart from my sister, Dana, all the women here are in their mid-twenties and I’m like the proverbial sore thumb; I’m older than all of them, and I feel it.

  The music is boring, and has no rhythm, and the younger-than-me crowd of people, at this night club, are too much for me to handle.

  My daughter, Lisa, bless her, has tried to make me feel included but I’m just not in the mood.

  If it wasn’t that my much-loved niece was getting married, I wouldn’t be here.

  I can’t even talk to my sister. Dana has had way too many drinks and is currently making a fool of herself on the dancefloor. Totally inebriated, she’s gyrating on a pole, and unfortunately is doing a terrible job and keeps ending up on her ass, on the floor.

  I tried to have a private word, try and remove her from the dance pole but no, she won’t listen.

  I’m cringing in embarrasement. I can only imagine what Lola is thinking of her mom. Oh God.

  Perhaps I should drink an entire bottle of champagne, and then I won’t care about being bored and lonely? It’s an option.

  Lisa and her friends are in small tight dresses that show off their figures. They’re all gorgeous, and I feel like the frumpy mother that I am.

  I may not be as young as them, but I do exercise, and look after my fitness. Perhaps, I could’ve worn something nicer than a buttoned-down shirt and boring black slacks, which I teamed up with my most comfortable pair of flat shoes.

  Conservative. Boring. Unwanted.

  Yep, that’s me.

  If Dean wasn’t interested in me, then who would want me? Certainly no one here.

  The men are circling the women, watching their bodies dance to the music, and I’m curious. Do people just meet at these clubs and then have sex?

  I never did this. I’d been with Dean since I was sixteen.

  I thought our sex life was good, that we were good. Apparently, I was wrong.

  “May I buy you a drink?” A deep voice breaks into my thoughts.

  I turn around and my eyes widen as I take in the super handsome man standing next to me. Tall, with dark hair and blazing aquamarine eyes, he looks around ten years younger than me.

  I think my heart stops for a moment. He’s so good looking.

  My head swivels. He must be talking to someone else, not me. I look around once again and realize that I’m on my own.

  Yep, I’m alone. Isn’t that the understatement of the year?

  When was the last time a guy had offered to buy me a drink? Um, never. I haven’t been single since my mid teens.

  Why would any man be interested in me when there were fifteen twenty-something year-olds, slightly inebriated women scantily dressed a couple of feet away?

  Dana, or my niece, Lola, must be playing a joke on me because no way would someone this hot want to buy me a drink. Bitches. Thanks a lot.

  I give him a sweet smile. “Thank you, but no.” I’m not that gullible. Don’t piss off a woman over forty, we’re too jaded and smart for men like you.

  His brow lifts as though he can’t believe I’d say no.

  Heck. I feel my teeth clench together in annoyance. Couldn’t everyone just leave me alone? The pain of Dean leaving has left me feeling like a hollow shell. “I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t need my sister or my niece having fun at my expense. It was very nice of you to play along, but I’m sorry, I’m not that stupid.”

  I’m cranky, hurt, and disappointed at the joke being played on me. Damn it! But that certainly doesn’t mean that I’m going to be rude to this stranger, even if he is the most good-looking man I’ve ever met.

  I’m a mother of four grown-up children, and I’m not that attractive. I didn’t need further ridicule to remind me I couldn’t even keep my husband.

  He takes a step toward me, and I feel his body warmth, and the scent of him invades my nostrils. It’s salty and tangy, reminding me of the ocean.

  I suck in a sharp breath as my tummy flip-flops. Seriously. He’s having an effect on me, and I don’t remember the last time I felt like this.

  Men usually hit on Lisa or Lola, not me.

  He leans toward me and whispers in my ear, “This isn’t a set-up, I’m interested in you.”

  I gulp—hard. He sounds so sincere and I swear my pussy clenches. Unbelievable. I’m turned on. Must be because I haven’t had sex in months.

  But then my rational brain dismisses it. No one would be interested in me, especially when Lisa and Lola are around. This is a set-up; it has to be.

  I take another steadying breath and look up at him. My heart skips a beat when I see that his intense gaze is focused on me. “Um, you’re a good actor and I’m almost believing you but, um, thanks for that.”

  For a moment, it was nice to think that a man like him would be interested in me. But that was just a fantasy. And I’m living in my own pathetic reality; every long minute, every long hour, every long week.

  “I’m Mayim, this is no set-up. I was to meet a friend here, and I saw you. I’m interested in you, having a drink with you.” His voice is deep, commanding, and slightly raspy. I want to believe him, but I am no longer that young woman with stars in her eyes who believed in happily-ever-afters. She’s grown up.

  I was a stay-at-home mom, looking after everyone’s needs, being self-sac
rificing, and then…when Dean left me, I was crushed, broken. And I’m still hurting.

  “I would like to believe you, honestly.” I cross my arms defensively. “But why would someone as handsome as you, be interested in someone like me?” Take that, hot guy.

  My greedy gaze takes in the way his shirt moulds across his broad chest, highlighting muscles, before tapering down to narrow hips and a flat belly. My breasts feel heavy in my bra. He’s so sexy he could pass for a model.

  “I like women who are mature, who have informed opinions and are less self-conscious about themselves. I don’t give a fuck about stretch marks, whether your tits are big or not or worried about your age.”

  My eyes widen and I feel my jaw drop. I don’t know whether to be insulted or turned on.

  He takes my hand in his, and I love the strength that he emits. “This music is shit, let’s move away so we can talk.”

  It seems we both don’t like this crap music, so I decide to follow him. Besides, it’s either talk to him or drink myself drunk. I’ll have a few minutes of conversation, what harm could come of it?

  And then I remember… “But, my daughter.” I look at the dancefloor and see everyone is singing and dancing together.

  No one is looking out for me, no one is interested in me, no one would notice if I went off with a handsome stranger.

  The blood in my veins warms, and my breasts still feel constricted in my bra. Damn my insecurities, I’m off to have a drink. It’s either that or contine feeling lonely, bored, and unwanted.

  I follow the stranger to a darkened area of the club, and the music is thankfully not as loud, which means we won’t have to yell at each other to be heard over the noise.

  Mayim finds us a table with bar stools. I sit. “What would you like? A glass of wine? A cocktail?” he asks.

  “A glass of dry white wine would be perfect, thank you.” I give him a sincere smile.

  And while he gets me a drink, I take my phone from my purse and send my daughter a message explaining that I’m fine and have gone home, and I’ll speak to her in the morning.

  He returns, and the scent of him makes my nipples tingle with desire. I’m in shock. No guy has ever had such an effect on me.

  He sips from a tall glass—looks like soda. I raise an enquiring eyebrow and he replies with a grin, “I don’t drink alcohol.” He lifts and clinks my glass. “To a night of fun…with you.” He toasts.

  I shake my head, still unable to believe his audacity. “I thought we were just having a drink?”

  “Listen, I’m interested in you.” He leans closer to me, so I can feel his breath against my cheek. “As in I want to fuck you, that is, fuck you till you can’t walk.”

  I feel my jaw drop, and a shudder of need tears along my spine. No one has ever spoken to me like that. I’m not offended, I’m seriously turned on.

  He continues, “I’m happy to sit here and talk, get to know you, listen to you. But that’s taking time away from me pleasuring you.” He pauses. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do. You want missionary sex, I’ll do it. You want me to tongue you till you come, I’ll do it. You want me to help fulfill your deepest, darkest desire…I’ll do it.” He stops and his gaze clashes with mine. “Whatever you want, is what I want too.”

  My skin warms and I swear my pussy is clenching with desire. I’ve never had a man hit on me, let alone tell me he wants to fuck me. The situation is as unfamiliar to me as if I’d been dropped in the middle of the Sahara Desert without a map or compass. “I-I, I don’t know what to say.” I know I’m blushing but that’s because I’m nervous, excited, and intrigued. Who is Mayim? And why choose me?

  “Tell me your name?”

  “I’m Misty, and I’m a—”

  He waves his hand in front of me, interrupting my sentence. “Don’t tell me about yourself unless you’re telling me how you like to be fucked.”

  I take two large gulps of wine. My hand is shaking with longing. I wanted Dean to see me as a woman, not just a mom and wife. Looks like this stranger does. It’s a revelation.

  Okay, so I may be in my mid-forties, but I look after myself. I do walk regularly, do yoga, eat well. I may not be in a teen with raging hormones, but I still have needs and I just wanted my husband to pleasure me till I screamed his name out.

  I wanted Dean to see me as a sexy, desirable woman.

  Could I bed another man?

  I’m as nervous as a virgin.

  I’ve only ever had sex with Dean. I don’t know what it’s like to be with anyone else. Can I do it? Can I have a one-night stand? Could I have sex with a stranger?

  My heart is pounding against my ribs, and my breathing grows rapid. I close my eyes and imagine being fucked. I let out a slow hiss of need. Oh yeah. I want that. I feel a pool of warmth at the junction of my thighs.

  It would be one night of pleasure that Mayim is offering me. Why shouldn’t I take it?

  Technically, I’m single. Dean left me weeks ago. We’ve separated.

  I was prepared to do anything to save our marriage and support him during his mid-life crisis. But he hadn’t wanted me. He’d left me, tears streaming down my cheeks, as he rode off in his new motorbike.

  All I’ve done since is cry, eat ice-cream, and wallow in self-pity.

  But now, I can have sex…with a stranger. I can have wild sex with someone who just wants to get laid. No commitments.

  Lisa told me her friends use apps all the time to have casual sex, and some even have sex with two men at the same time.

  I have the house to myself tonight. I can be alone…with Mayim.

  I’m going to do this. I’m going to do something new. I’m going to put my needs before others…for the first time in years.

  I drain my glass of wine and say, “Let’s go.”

  In the cab ride back to my place I keep wondering if I’ve made a mistake. But the need to be fucked pummels through my veins. I want this.

  Mayim leans over and runs his tongue along the rim of my ear. I shiver.

  “Stop finding reasons to spend the night alone watching TV. If you’re not ready for this, at least finger-fuck yourself and let me watch. It’ll be a turn-on…for both of us,” he whispers in my ear. His deep voice turns me on, and I’m ready to do his bidding. I may want his cock, but I’m prepared to pleasure myself and have him watch. My nipples tingle at the thought.

  “Have you ever fantasized about someone watching you have sex?”

  I shake my head. “Um, no.”

  “Tell me, what turns you on?” His hand reaches out and covers mine.

  I feel connected with him, it comforts me. It also makes my knees tremble with need. “I want wild sex, as in, I want to do stuff that I’ve never done before.”

  “Your husband isn’t into kinky stuff?” He lifts his eyebrow.

  “My husband?” My voice lifts in surprise.

  He points to my wedding band. “You’re married? He can watch, if you want.”

  I clear my throat. “Um, Dean left me a few weeks ago. Sorry. He um, was going through a mid-life crisis, I think.”

  His thumb circles my pulse point. “Tell me.”

  I decide to tell him everything. He’s a stranger, and I won’t see him again. Why not? Besides, I feel that I should be open and honest with him. “He was the first boy I kissed. We had sex after our high school prom, and we married when we were twenty. Everyone said we were too young, but we were so in love. I just wanted to be with him. We have four children. I stayed at home and raised them, and even though I don’t regret that…I’m alone now. They’re grown up and busy with their lives. I always thought that Dean and I would be together forever, travel, and enjoy this time. And now…he’s gone.” I pause. “Sorry, too much information? You’re probably not interested.”

  “Of course I am. I love women with life experience. I love it when they boss me around, and I love that they’re most likely not worried about trivial stuff such as their bodies,” he confesses to me in a tone that has me
believing him.

  “You’re very honest,” I say.

  “We could’ve stayed at the club, I could’ve bought you a few drinks, we could’ve danced. Buy why? We both want this…so why delay it?” He continues, “Misty, it’s not that complicated. We’re going to spend the night fucking, and then in the morning, I’m leaving. That’s it.”

  “I’ve never been with anyone else except Dean,” I confess.

  “I don’t care,” he says.

  So why did she?

  Soon enough we arrive at my quaint, suburban home, and a thrill of excitement zips along my spine.

  I’m about to have sex. Mind-blowing sex. I can’t remember the last time I had an orgasm.

  Mayim pays the driver, then he turns to me with a devilish grin and kisses me. As in, he really kisses, tongue and all. There are no sweet or playful kisses. He just cups my cheeks and kisses me with a purpose and meaning.

  His hands move down my body and they cup and massage my breasts through my top and bra. He pinches my nipples, hard, but not too hard. I groan with need.

  God, I need this.

  Mayim

  I’ve always found that women who are older than thirty-five are often tougher to deal with, initially. Their life experiences have jaded them, plus they are smarter and more security conscious than their younger counterparts.

  I saw that as a challenge, not an issue.

  Taking longer to seduce Misty makes my cock twitch with longing. The thrill of the chase always turns me on. And it seems it has turned Misty on too.

  Fuck, she’s like a wild cat. She’s kissing me back, biting me, running her hands all over my body. I love it.

  She needs this.

  She craves this.

  We’re on the sidewalk and she’s rubbing her body up against me, as her mouth devours mine. She’s tearing at my shirt, and I hear buttons pop.