Full Hart (The Harty Boys Book 5) by Whitley Cox

Author:Whitley Cox [Cox, Whitley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781989081464
Publisher: Whitley Cox
Published: 2021-10-09T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Grant & Joy

The first thing he always did when they tumbled into bed was pull her hair free of her bun. He said it was like unwrapping a present. Taking the librarian from day to night. It made Joy wish she hadn’t gotten LASIK ten years ago and still wore glasses, then she’d really give him a taste of the naughty librarian.

The steak had been mouth-watering, the squash divine, and Grant certainly knew his way around a vinaigrette, but none of that compared to how delicious the naked man spread out over the top of her was.

She still had to pinch herself from time to time—particularly when he got naked—that he was interested in her.

Sure, she wasn’t some frumpy, dowdy old thing with one foot in the grave. She might be sixty-six, a mother and nana, but she wasn’t dead, and she took care of herself. But Grant was out-of-this-world handsome. Now he really took care of himself. A sixty-year-old with abs like that? You rarely saw that unless it was in the gossip mags at the grocery store checkout and some celebrity she’d crushed on since she was a teenager was caught at the beach in just his shorts.

She’d always had a thing for Pierce Brosnan. The accent, the smolder. Even with a dad-bod, Joy would let Double-Oh-Seven take her to Pound Town if he ever asked her.

But alas, ol’ Piercy was madly in love with his wife of decades and would never stray. That, of course, just made him all the sexier.

But she had her own Double-Oh-Seven candidate currently nibbling her neck and twiddling her nipple in a way he knew drove her gloriously mad.

They’d raced through dinner, or at least she had—determined to get on to dessert—and she didn’t mean the raspberry sorbet he said he had in his freezer.

There were still dishes in the sink and counters to wipe, but that could all wait.

She wanted the man who had shown her she could love and be loved again to take her to his bed and pour that love all over her.

He placed one open palm on hers and splayed her fingers wide, locking their fingers together as his other hand made its merry way down her torso and between her legs.

She spread her thighs so he could settle between them, and her breath hitched as his fingers found her slickness. Of course, they used lube, since menopause and all that getting older crap.

His chuckle against her neck was warm and raspy.

“I’d say your oven is plenty preheated, hmm?”

“My oven is preheated before I even get in my car to drive over here, Wild Man,” she said, sliding her hand between them to grab his shaft and stroke it. “All I have to do is think about this and you and the oven gets plenty hot—and fast.”

She felt his smile against her jaw before he nipped, then peppered kisses across her cheek until he could claim her mouth.

Even though she couldn’t get pregnant anymore—woot woot, menopause! STDs among the retired and boomer community were becoming a growing problem.

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