Page 11 of Opening It Up (Humbled Superstars #2)

Lily-Mae

I was sprinkling cinnamon into my coffee the next day when an unfamiliar deep voice rumbled in my ear.

“Can I buy you an Early Gray scone, ma’am?”

I turned around to see a tall, athletic, much younger man grinning at me.

He exuded pulsating golden retriever energy, and looked like the most popular surfer at the beach, with sun-bleached hair and dimples in his cheeks.

“They said it had subtle notes of lavender in it,” he added.

“Do I know you?” I asked, putting the lid back on my coffee.

“Not yet,” he grinned. “But I’d love to be better acquainted.”

He bounded over to a café table and pulled out the chair.

“My name is Brayden Tomas.”

“I’m sitting here because this is the only open spot,” I said severely. “Don’t take it as encouragement.”

Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to dampen his buoyant charm in the slightest.

“So I heard you were in an open marriage, and it would kill me not to at least shoot my shot. I want to take you out for more than just a scone. I know a great little bar over on 34th Street. Real close to here.”

Even though his dimples made him look good enough to eat, I shook my head.

“First, anybody named Brayden is way too young for me,” I protested.

“Aw, please, ma’am. I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time. I’m a fully-grown man, I’m 24.”

I groaned. “ Twenty-four ? Good god, I’m almost 15 years older than you!”

“It’s so hot, though,” he said. “Please, give me a shot. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. I have serious stamina.”

“What would I need stamina for?” I asked tartly. “I’m not competing in the Olympics here.”

Brayden bent across the table, staring earnestly at me. His eyes were so brightly blue. The kind of cornflower blue like a dimply knight in an old story.

His polo shirt stretched across what looked like an impressive set of muscular pectorals, his rippling forearms resting casually on the table in front of him.

“I would love to pleasure you without ceasing,” he said huskily.

I looked appraisingly at him. He was wearing a little nametag that said Strategic Synergy PR on it. Wasn’t that the same place Makayla worked?

What the hell?

“ One date,” I said. “And no feelings. This is just to see if you can live up to your own hype.”

He smiled and seized my hand in his. It was absolutely dwarfed by his much bigger bear paw, and I couldn’t help laughing as he made an old-fashioned bow and fell to his knees.

“Madam, I may be but a young buck, but I promise I can give you the best sex of your life. In a gentlemanly way, of course.”

He bent his golden head over my hand and began to kiss my fingers.

Good lord, I couldn’t help giggling at his earnest energy, and I looked up to see Harley watching me in the doorway, looking like he wanted to puke.

“Looking forward to it,” I said, holding my husband’s eyes steadily. “Can’t wait to get the best sex of my life.”