The hero of my second release, “Second Skin,” is a sexy older man. This isn’t a
coincidence, kittens. The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve developed an interest in older men. It’s weird because I never figured that I’d be one of those women that sought out a fifty-something. Not that I haven’t always liked a mate to be older—my husband, Tally, is five, almost six years older than I. When we met, my mother was so worried about our age difference. I was 17 and he was 22—old enough to buy beer. But I was never interested in boys my age. I suppose in my eyes they weren’t as mature or mysterious. As I’ve gotten older, my fascination has gotten worse. I’m just not interested in the sex symbol of the moment unless he has a little silver in his hair. Older men are confident, self-assured, dominating— AND THAT MAKES ME HOTTER THAN A TIN ROOF IN THE MIDDLE OF JULY. So I’ve attached a wicked little excerpt from “Second Skin” that showcases our hero, the sexy Jack Leannan. Incidentally, “leannan” is Gaelic for “lover.”
Jack Leannan wasn’t like anyone I had ever met before. And I think I knew we were going to sleep together from the moment I saw him. We met briefly at a dinner party and I was instantly fascinated. He was quite a bit older than I, but it didn’t affect his allure at all. The silvery strands at his temples only served to highlight the cool blue composure of his eyes. His body was solid, a telltale sign of one who took care of himself, but not overdone. He had a quiet grace that gave him an air of mystery and dominance. His accented voice was low with just a tinge of gravel that had me drooling with his first hello. We stood around in the same circle of strangers, exchanging shallow niceties and bored expressions. He didn’t say a lot, merely commented when spoken to. I noticed him laugh quietly to himself at inopportune times and it endeared him to me, though I was afraid to engage him in conversation.
I didn’t notice when everyone else had left the circle and I still stood there, holding my glass of wine and staring at Jack. It was as if the entire world had disappeared around us and I couldn’t care less. “Miss Spencer? Are you alright?” He spoke to me and I started. I hadn’t realized that he even knew my name.
“Catherine. Please call me Catherine,” I said, somewhat robotically as I pushed the words from my lips.
He smirked, one eyebrow quirking. “Are you sure we know each other well enough for that?”
“I’ll risk it,” I replied.
“As long as we’ve set the ground rules.” With another smile he offered his hand and we shook politely. I tried to let go, but he held on tight and then pulled, leading me to a couch nearby. “I hate parties,” he said casually as he motioned for me to sit. “Standing around talking to strangers was never my forte.”
“You seem to be doing well so far,” I replied, taking a seat.
“If you’ll notice, the only person I’ve actually spoken to is you.”
Whew… that Jack is one of my favorite heroes ever. He’s sexy, smart and he knows just what to say to get my blood boiling. That’s what’s so hot. Not just that he’s an older man, but that he seems to know everything poor Catherine needs to hear. Of course, it’s his downfall. But I’m not one to give spoilers.
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