SIENNA'S POV

The dance floor shook with a slow, nasty beat, bodies rubbing under the flashing lights. His hands grabbed my hips, pulling me close, his hard chest brushing my boobs through my tight dress. His breath burned my neck, fingers digging into my curves, and every grind of his hips made my pussy throb. His brown eyes locked on mine, full of want, making my heart pound. Evan's voice screamed in my head-too old, too used-but the wet heat between my legs begged me to keep going.

"You're hot as hell," he said, lips by my ear, voice rough like gravel. His hand slid to my butt, squeezing, making me gasp.

I laughed, nervous, trying to stay cool. "You're the one causing trouble." My voice shook, stuck between wanting him and worrying I'd look like a desperate mom.

"Trouble's my thing." His grin was dirty, but his eyes got soft, like he saw my hurt. "Wanna get outta here?"

My stomach dropped. Leave with him? he was too young, too good-looking, and I was 42, with stretch marks and Evan's betrayal stuck in my chest. But my pussy ached, screaming for his touch.

"I don't even know you," I said, stalling, heart racing.

"Daniel." His lips brushed my jaw, warm and slow. "Your name?"

I swallowed, Evan's ghost saying I wasn't enough. "You gotta earn it." My tone was light, but my chest hurt, scared to jump, scared to stay stuck.

He laughed, low and sexy. "Come with me, I'll earn it." His thumb rubbed my hip, a promise that made my knees weak.

I saw Lila across the club, her smirk saying go for it. Screw it, I was done feeling broken.

"Okay. But don't think I'm easy." My voice trembled, half-bold, half-scared.

His grin grew, and he took my hand, leading me through the crowd. People stared, judging or jealous, but his grip kept me steady. Outside, Miami's hot air hit us, and a shiny black car waited, driver ready. My gut twisted; his world was way out of my league.

"Nice car," I said, sliding onto leather seats, hiding my nerves.

"Only when I'm showing off." He sat close, thigh against mine, his smell-sweat and spice filling my head. "You'll like it?"

I snorted, acting tough. "Takes more than a car." But my heart pounded, Evan's voice saying I didn't belong.

The drive was fast, city lights zooming by. His hand rested on my knee, warm, sliding up, and I didn't stop him, my pussy begging for more. We stopped at a huge glass house, all sharp edges and bright lights, screaming money. My throat got tight-my old house was nothing like this.

"Cool house," I said, heels clicking on shiny stone as we walked in. "You rob banks?"

He laughed, opening the door. "Just build stuff. Want to see the view?" his eyes said he meant more than the city.

Inside, the place was fancy with white walls, weird art, big windows showing the ocean. He led me to a bedroom, moonlight falling over a giant bed. My heart raced, want and fear fighting inside me.

"You sure?" he asked, voice quiet, stepping close. His fingers touched my arm, sending sparks.

I nodded, barely breathing. "Don't mess it up." My voice was sharp, but I leaned into him, desperate to feel wanted.

He kissed me, soft at first, then hard, tongue pushing in, taking over. His hands moved fast, pulling my dress of, leaving me in my bra and panties. I tugged his shirt off, fingers running over his tight abs, hungry for his skin. He unhooked my bra, lips hitting my boobs, sucking my nipples till I moaned loud.

"Damn, you're hot," he growled, pushing me onto the bed. His mouth moved down to my belly, slow, teasing, till he got to my panties. He yanked them off, spreading my legs wide, and his tongue hit my pussy, flicking my clit making me jerk.

"Oh, shit," I gasped, grabbing the sheets. His tongue worked me swirling over my clit, sliding into my wet slit, sucking just right to make me shake. He held my thighs open, his lips kissing every wet inch, his tongue diving deep, slow then fast.

Evan hadn't touched me like this since the twins were born, always too busy or bored. Daniel was different-hungry, gentle, like he wanted all of me. He sucked my clit hard, tongue pushing inside, and I came yelling his name as my pussy squeezed, pleasure crashing through me. he kissed my thighs, soft and slow, making me shiver longer.

He climbed up, kissing me, his lips wet with my juice. "You okay?" he asked, eyes checking mine, softer than I thought he'd be.

"Yeah," I breathed, pulling him close. "Your turn."

He grinned, dropping his pants, his dick big and hard. He grabbed a condom, sliding it on, and spread my legs. He pushed into me, slowly as his dick filled my pussy, stretching me just right. I moaned loud, as he started moving gently, not rushing. His hands held my face, lips brushing mine, soft kisses between thrusts.

"You feel so good," he groaned, voice full of need.

I wrapped my legs around him, moving with him, nails scratching his back. His dick hit every spot, slow and deep, like he was learning me. His mouth went back to my boobs, sucking my nipples soft. His hands gripping my hips, my butt, like he couldn't get enough. It wasn't just sex-it felt like he saw me, wanted me, not just my body. I came again, quiet this time, gasping his name as my pussy pulsed around his dick. He groaned, moving faster, and came, his face in my neck, breath hot and shaky.

We laid there, breathing hard, his arm over me. but Evan's face popped up; his mean laugh, his new girlfriend, me failing as a wife. Guilt hit hard, like a punch. What was I doing? Fucking a guy half my age, acting like some hot chick? I was a mom, a reject, lying to myself.

I sat up, heart pounding, grabbing my clothes.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Daniel leaned up, face confused, voice soft.

"Nothing, I gotta go." I pulled my dress on, not looking at him, shame burning me.

"Stay, talk to me." he grabbed my hand, his voice raw, like he meant it.

I shook my head, pulling away. "This was a mistake." My voice broke, my fears choking me. I grabbed my shoes, running for the door.

"Wait...your name?" he called, standing, voice sharp, almost scared.

I didn't stop, didn't look back, just bolted out as the door slammed behind me. The night air hit, cool and sharp, as i called an uber, my body still warm from his touch. I'd run from him, from myself, but the ache inside said I wasn't done.

Could i be the woman who took what she wanted, or would Evan's ghost keep me trapped.

DANIEL'S POV

I leaned back in the restaurant booth, papers spread across the table, my pen tapping a rhythm. A week since that night, and her face still haunted me-those dark eyes, that curvy body grinding against me, the way she moaned when I ate her pussy.

Most girls my age would've stayed, begged for my number, my money or my name. But she bolted, leaving nothing but a smile and a maybe. Her age, her confidence, the way she owned herself made her different from the shallow girls I knew. She was real, mature, and she had set a fire in me that I'd called every club contact, scoured socials, even checked uber records. Nothing. She was a ghost, and it pissed me off as much as it turned me on.

"Dude, you're obsessed," Jake announced, shoving fries in his mouth across from me. His messy brown hair fell in his eyes, his grin cocky. "One chick runs out, and you're acting like she stole your dick."

I snorted, flipping a document. "She didn't run, she fucking sprinted." My voice was light, but my chest tightened, remembering her sad smile, like she was scared of what we'd done.

"Sounds like a pro move to keep you pussy whipped. Bet she's laughing about it." He leaned forward, smirking. "You're just mad she didn't fall for the billionaire bullshit."

"Fuck off." I tossed a napkin at him, but he wasn't wrong. Girls usually melted for my cash, my name, my charm. But her? She didn't give a shit, and that maturity, that realness had me hooked. Her curves, her moans, the way she wasn't chasing my world.

"She wasn't like that." I replied.

Jake raised a brow, chewing loud. "Sure, keep dreaming. You gonna sign those contracts or jerk off to your mystery cougar all day?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but a laugh cut through the restaurant-warm, familiar, hitting me like a shot. Her voice. I turned, scanning the crowded tables, and there she was, near the bar. She was talking to that blonde friend from the club. Her black hair fell straight, her jeans hugging her ass, her smile lighting up the room. My dick twitched, memories of her taste flooding back.

"Be right back," I muttered, standing, papers forgotten.

Jake chuckled. "Good luck, Romeo."

I made way through the tables, heart pounding, her voice pulling me like a magnet. She was mid-sentence, gesturing at her friend, when I stopped beside her.

"Hey, stranger"

She froze, eyes snapping to mine, wide and dark. Her friend grinned, sipping a drink, but I only saw her-lips parted, cheeks flushing, like she was reliving our night.

"Daniel!" She said, voice tigh

"Guess I'm lucky." I leaned against the bar, keeping it casual, though my blood ran hot. "Been looking for you."

Her friend choked on her drink, smirking. "Oh, this is good."

She shot her friend a glare, then faced me, arms crossed. "Why? Thought we were done?" Her tone was sharp, but her eyes flicked to my lips, betraying her.

I grinned, stepping closer. "You ran out before I could ask you to dinner." My voice dropped, teasing. "Figured I owed you a meal after...you know."

Her cheeks went red, and she looked away, fingers twisting her necklace. "That was a one-night thing, not supposed to mean anything." Her words were firm, but her voice shook, like she was fighting herself.

Her friend piped up, leaning forward. "Bullshit, Si. He's hot and he's here, this is fate I must say. Give him a shot."

"Lila, shut up," she snapped, but her lips twitched, a smile slipping through.

I caught her gaze, holding it. "Just a friendly date, no pressure. I wanna know you, not just fuck you." My words were blunt, but my tone softened, letting her see I meant it. I wanted her mind, her stories, that grown woman vibe that set her aside from other ladies.

She bit her lip, eyes searching mine, torn. I could almost hear her thoughts.

"Friendly, huh?" she said, voice skeptical, but the shoulders relaxed.

"Promised." I raised my hands, grinning. "Unless you beg for more.""Oh, you're good," Lila laughed.

She rolled her eyes, a spark in them. "Fine, One date. But don't get cocky." Her voice was tough, but her flush said she remembered how I worked her body.

"Deal." I pulled out my phone, handing it over. "Your number. And your name, since you owe me that."

She hesitated, then typed, her fingers quick. "Sienna." She handed it back, eyes daring me to push her.

"Sienna." I tested it, liking how it felt. "Tonight, seven. This restaurant. Let me earn it."

"Maybe." She replied. She turned to Lila, who was grinning like a child, and I walked back to Jake, my pulse still racing.

He clapped, slow, mocking. "Smooth, man. She's gonna eat you alive."

"Hope so," I muttered, smirking, but my mind was on her-her walls, her heat, the way she fought herself. I wanted to break through, not just her body, but to her.

That evening, I sat at the restaurant, a quiet corner table, my watch hitting seven-fifteen. The place was calm, candles flickering, jazz humming low. I'd picked it for her-classy, not too flashy, a spot to talk, to get that real side of her i craved. My fingers tapped the table, my phone blank beside me. No text, no call. I checked again, nothing. My gut twisted; she wasn't coming.

A message buzzed in, her name lighting the screen. My heart kicked up, but the words hit like a punch: HEY, SORRY, I CAN'T DO THIS. THE OTHER NIGHT WAS FUN, BUT IT'S DONE. TAKE CARE.

I stared at it, jaw tight, a mix of pissed and turned on. She was shutting me out, clean and cold, like she thought one text could erase what we'd done. Her maturity, her difference was what I wanted, not some young fling. She was worth the chase.

I leaned back, smirking to myself. "Game on, Sienna.," I muttered, pocketing my phone. She thought she could close the door but I'd work for it; earn her trust, her body, her heart. She'd see me again, and I'll make sure she doesn't run the next time.

SIENNA'S POV

I stood in my condo's living room, paint on my hands, brushing color onto a canvas. The picture was supposed to be bright reds and blues for a client, but my brush made hard sharp lines like Daniel's face, his strong arms, his fancy buildings. My body warmed, memories of that night hitting me-his tongue on my skin, his hands deep inside, making me feel like I wasn't Evan's trash.

I shook my head, trying to push it away. I was 42, too old to want a 26-year-old rich guy who touched me like he meant it. Evan's voice laughed in my head, saying I was done, and I held the brush tight, painting fast to shut it up.

The canvas got blurry, and I saw his brown eyes, hot and staring, as he kissed my chest till I moaned loud. My legs squeezed, paint spilling on my jeans. Why couldn't I forget him? That night was a dumb move, a quick try to feel good, but it left me wanting more, not fixed. I was a mom, divorced, not some hot girl chasing a young guy. But my body begged for his hands, his lips, and it made me mad. I grabbed more paint, slapping it on, trying to cover the heat in my skin.

My phone rang on the table, Lila's name on the screen. I groaned, wiping my hands on a rag and picking it up. "Hey, what's up?"

"Still thinking of that hot guy, you ran from?" Her voice teased, like she knew my face was red.

I rolled my eyes, tossing the rag down. "I'm painting, not thinking about anybody."

"No way." She laughed, loud and sharp. "You're day dreaming of him, and that text you sent was a total scaredy cat move."

My stomach hurt, remembering the text from that day. I was left with no choice than to stand him up and not lead him on.

"I'm too old for him, Lila. He's 26, so to not get his hope up, I had to let him go hard."

She made a noise, like she was sipping a drink. "Do you think he doesn't know you're old for him? Still, you don't see him complaining. Besides, age don't matter when he's touching you like that." Her voice got soft. "You felt good, right? When's the last time you felt that?"

My heart beat fast, and I held the phone tight, paint still on my fingers. She was right, but saying it felt like giving up the mom I'd always been.

"It's not about feeling good. It's about not looking like I'm after his money."

"Forget that junk." She drank again, voice tough. "Evan made you feel less of yourself and you became a different person, but that guy? He wanted you, for you. Stop hiding."

My throat felt stuck, and I looked at the canvas, the sharp lines looking like scratches now. My body wanted to find him, let him touch me again, but my head was caught on Evan's mean words, people staring, my own fears.

"I don't know how, okay? I am never gonna see him again, so I cannot keep thinking about him. I am not a hopeless romantic like you."

"Good thing." Her voice grinned. "You're hotter than I am. Find him, let him kiss you again, and stop thinking."

I laughed, but my chest still hurt. "I'm trying to work. Got a deadline, and I am not chasing guys."

She hummed, not believing me. "Yeah, right. But when you see him, don't run. You need someone like him to make you feel alive."

My gut twisted, and I rubbed my leg, paint coming off. "I won't see him, it's over." The lie felt heavy, and my body tingled, proving me wrong.

"Whatever." She laughed, something clinking in her glass. "Call me when you're moaning his name again."

I hung up, dropping the phone on the couch. My painting stared back, all hard lines and red, like his world sneaking into mine. I picked up the brush, trying to fix it, but my hand shook thinking of his lips on my neck, his hands finding every spot, making me gasp. Evan hadn't touched me like that in years, but Daniel saw me, wanted me, and I stood him up like a kid. My chest felt tight, stuck between wanting that feeling again and being afraid I'd look dumb.

My body ached, the heat too much, thinking about him. I dropped my brush, my jeans tight, and fell onto the couch, my hand sliding inside my pants. I closed my eyes, picturing his mouth on my tits, his fingers fucking my pussy, making me scream. My fingers rubbed my clit, fast, my breath short as I thought of his hard cock, his deep voice, the way he had made me come so hard I forgot my name. my hips moved, my pussy wet, but I had never felt this way before, so hot.

A knock hit the door, loud, making me jump. My hand stopped, my pulse wild, my body still aching. I stood, paint on my hands, my jeans, trying to breathe. Who was that? Lila didn't just show up, and the twins were at college. I wiped my hands, paint still there, and walked to the door, my heart loud in my ears.

I pulled it open, and there he was.

Daniel stood there, his blond curls messy, eyes stuck on mine, his tight shirt showing his muscles. My breath stopped, my body hot like it knew him. He leaned on the doorframe, grinning, like he could tell I was thinking of him.

"Hey, Sienna," he said, voice low, warm, like he was already pulling me close.

I gasped, my hand tight on the door, my head fighting my body, wanting to shut it but dying to pull him in and let him touch me again.