Today’s post contains adult content and is intended only for readers aged eighteen years or older who consent to read such content. If that’s not you, please skip this post.

The MFRW Steam hop is a monthly event hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. Focused on authors who write spicy or erotic fiction, it’s a celebration of romance that sizzles! Check out all the spicy samples here.

I recently posted about my love for “Seasoned Romance,” defined as romance fiction where the protagonists are at least thirty-five. I know, I know–who could possibly consider such a tender age too old for romance?

You’ll have to wait until February to read this novella in full, when it will appear in a Valentine’s Day-themed charity anthology. But I had so much fun writing Cupid, Crazy Risks, and Tater Tots that I just had to share a snippet. This novella in the Bangers Tavern Romance series, set in my hometown of Tacoma, Washington, features Carla Delfino, the 45-year-old owner of a vintage clothing shop, and Jeremy Franklin, a 51-year-old real estate developer. In this scene, Jeremy seduces Carla by serenading her on his baby grand piano.

Man playing piano

Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

Right on cue, the clouds  parted, and the pearly full moon cast its glow on Jeremy’s thick, silvery hair. Stars glittered in his eyes as he slid over to make room for her on his piano bench and extended his arm. “Come here. Help me pick out another song.”

Helpless to resist, she sat beside him. The warm length of his thigh pressed against hers as he flipped through a book of songs from Broadway musicals.

“This one?” She touched his wrist. How could a mere wrist feel so enticing? Just a bunch of little bones covered with sinew, satin skin, a whisper of dark hairs… She cleared her throat. “I worked on a production of My Fair Lady in college.”

“Whew, that’s a high one. I’ll have to transpose down. Let’s see—” He pressed the keys, sang a note, shook his head, and moved further down the keyboard. Finally satisfied, he launched into The Street Where You Live. His shoulder nudged hers again and again as he reached for the high notes on his keyboard. By the time he belted out “And oh, the towering feeling,” her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird and her panties were soaked. When the swoony love song ended, she was a helpless puddle of desire.

He leaned so close his breath lifted her hair, and sang softly into her ear, “The street where you live…J Street and North Fifth.” He sighed. “My favorite spot in the whole city. Even if your neighbors interrupt our good-night kiss.”

Her lips hovered achingly close to his. “There’s no one interrupting us now.”

He whispered her name before pressing his lips to hers. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her to his firm, muscly chest. With a low groan, he teased her lips apart and licked into her mouth. She raked her fingers into silver silk and clasped him tighter.

“Carla.” He broke away, his eyes dark and sharp with need. “I want you desperately. Stay with me?” When she didn’t answer right away, too lust-stunned to speak, he trailed hot, wet kisses down her throat. “Please, angel. Let me love you. I want to feel you coming on my tongue, my cock.”

She answered with a moan. His hand slid to her breast, kneading softly through her silk blouse. When his thumb brushed her nipple, electric sparks of pure pleasure pulled a whispered “Yes, yes, yes” from her lips.

He rose from the bench, pulled her into his arms, and walked her backward to the sofa facing the fireplace. She let him ease her onto the cool leather cushions, then reclined onto a pile of pillows.

“You’re so beautiful.” His callused fingertips skimmed her jaw while his thumbs traced her cheekbones.

And she felt beautiful, lying beneath him as his bright, dark eyes drank her in from head to hip. Xavier had never gazed at her with this intense focus. It was heady stuff, stronger than the wine that loosened her tongue and her inhibitions.

This is madness, her last remaining brain cells squawked. He’s not going to spare your shop just because you fuck him.

But if she didn’t give in to desire, if she wrapped herself in icy reserve and left them both pulsing with frustration, she’d still be vulnerable. If she surrendered to what they both wanted, at least she’d have the memory of this beautiful night to sustain her during the battle to come. And perhaps an intimate knowledge of her opponent.

He wants me. I want him. Time to get out of her head and enjoy this sexy serendipity.

She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him down. His weight pushed her deeper into the cushions as he plundered her mouth with his questing tongue. Greedy for more, she undulated beneath him, arching her chest against his until he broke the kiss to nip at her collarbone while he unbuttoned her blouse. The roughness of his fingers against her sensitive skin brought her nipples to stiff peaks.

He put those dexterous fingers to good use, quickly freeing her from her lace bra. Soon she lay topless, arms flung overhead, flushed with arousal. Hunger twisted his chiseled features into something rough and primal. But he held back, only skating those talented fingers over the outer curve of her breasts. Impatient and desperate for more, she whispered, “Please.”

Thanks for reading! See you next month.