Tomorrow Belongs To Us an Age Gap Romance by Lily Zante ➱ Book Tour with Rafflecopter

Tomorrow Belongs To Us

by Lily Zante

Genre: Age Gap, Second Chance Contemporary Romance

A young woman's life is disrupted when a decade later she crosses paths with the caring high-school teacher she fell in love with as a student.

Lance Turner was there for Megan when she needed him, but his sudden departure left her devastated.

All she wants now is closure, but all he wants is a second chance.

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EXCERPTS FROM TBTU

*** EXCERPT 1 ***

He looks around. “Can we talk?”

“We are talking.”

“Someplace else, not out here.”

I can't do that. I've come out here because I wanted to hear what he had to say, and what he’s told me sounds plausible, almost as if it could be true. But it’s too plausible, a little voice inside me whispers. I don't believe things are that simple. Love is ugly. Life is hard.

Yet, this is easy, having Lance Turner back in my life. We have a chemistry that is impossible to ignore. I don't feel with anyone else what I feel with this man, it's like he imprinted on my young mind and ruined me for others.

It's wrong of me to blame my bad romantic relationships on him, especially when what we had wasn’t anything like that. My teenage mind used that night to get me through the bad times; those crushing, soul destroying moments where I hated being stuck in my small town, while the future I had envisaged for myself being was swept away.

In those dark days I leant on Mr. Turner, I grasped and grabbed and held tightly onto his wise words and his care and concern for me. I believed that I was worthy, that I deserved to be loved.

Now the man is back, and he says he wants a second chance with me. He seems to think my actions the other day prove that that’s what I want, too. What I wanted was closure, but giving a guy head is a strange way to go about getting closure.

We both want something, even despite the complications in his life and mine. I need to be more careful because he has a past, and responsibility, and I will always be second in place.

*** EXCERPT 2 ***

“What are you doing?” His voice is husky.

“I can't help it.” I slide a finger through the gap between his buttons and hear him suck in a breath. His stomach is rock hard. “Megan.” His voice sounds weak.

“You've been such an attentive boyfriend.” I stroke his warm skin expecting him to respond. I've come to read him well. He pretends not to care, to act as if he doesn’t want me, as if I don’t matter to him, but one touch, one stroke can undo all his hard-fought composure. He presses his lips together and looks away.

He wants me, but he’s trying his hardest to hide it. He slowly brings his face towards me again. “You asked me to make them believe. Do you think they believe?”

I tilt my face upwards. “They believe it.”

I believe it. Staring up at his face I see the silver orb of the moon high in the night sky. It seems like an ending, or a new beginning.

I know what I want, and I want him.

“But it's only fake, right?” He moves my hand away from his stomach. His eyes glitter under the moonlight. They’re dark, not blue, in the hazy night.

I swallow. “It doesn’t have to be.” He is free now. We can fall into this thing headfirst. I'm partway there, back in the thick of all that angst and emotion my teenage hormones riddled me with.

But now? What now at this age and at this time in our lives?

An electric charge fizzes between us. It’s so strong that I can feel it even out here in the dark night, out in the open. The voltage sparking between our bodies.

I wish he'd kiss me. I wish he'd make a move.

I wish he'd forget what I said to him about not wanting a second chance.

“We should get back,” he says, quickly taking hold of my hand and leading me back the way we came.

*** EXCERPT 3 ***

“Come.” Preston takes my hand.

I want to go home. Now.

“I'm not ... I'm not feeling up to it ...” I start to tell him, but he doesn't like my answer.

“It's just a dance.”

“I believe she's taken.” The scent of familiar cologne tells me I am safe. Lance is here by my side. My body softens.

Preston attempts a light laugh. “I asked first.”

“She’s clearly not interested.” Lance is so confident, so assured, that he doesn’t even look at Preston. His eyes are on me. “Care to dance?” His is the hand I take, willingly, gladly.

I would never have a slow dance with anyone at a company event, but this is Lance, and this is my last event here. A slow song plays as we walk onto the dance floor and his hands slide around my waist. I inhale a shaky breath. His touch makes my insides freefall, and my heart turns soft and liquid. Goosebumps pop up all over my skin.

“Cold?” he asks.

I shake my head. He has no idea of what he does to me. How much he makes me want him. “Not cold.”

“I was never going to let Preston dance with you.”

Joy shoots through me. “Possessive Alpha,” I retort, feeling ecstatic. He’s jealous.

“Call me what you want. You don't like him. I don't like him. I don't want you to do things you don't like.”

“Thank you for rescuing me … again.”

“Any time.” His gaze settles on my lips and his fingers wreak havoc with my skin. His nearness is intoxicating.

I place my arms around his neck and fall into the thrum of excitement which zips between our bodies. I’m in a happy place; somewhere I haven’t been for a long time. My body starts to heat up, blood pools to my nether regions. I feel a tingle in my breasts. All this just because Lance is holding me close.

*** EXCERPT 4 ***

“Don't walk away.” He's begging me to stay. “Don't walk away because you believe the lies. Walk away if you don't feel anything for me.”

But that's the problem. I feel so much for this man. My mouth turns dry. My insides slowly climb out of the stupor they've been in ever since we broke up. He takes a step closer and now I can smell his cologne. I can feel the low thrum of electricity, the sparks, the fizz and zing of invisible energy that flows between us whenever he's near me.

My skin tingles.

This is what I was afraid of. A reminder of what we are, what we can be. I am tempted to fall into his embrace, to have him hold me and press me to him. It's so familiar and warm, like coming home.

I swallow. “But I'm ... I'm moving away.”

“And?” He sounds unfazed.

“And? We'll be so far apart.”

He smiles.

“What?” I ask.

“You haven't said no, yet, but it will come. I'm prepared.”

I frown at him.

“You can say what you like, Megan. You can swear and cuss and talk about liking hookups and that you like to ... you know ...the f-word.”

Heat sears my cheeks and I shut my eyes. My mother probably heard that. Taking him by the hand, I lead him out and close the door behind us. I walk down the hallway and turn a corner until we're in a small nook. I back away from him into a corner.

“You can say what you want to try to push me away, but the only way I'll walk away is if you look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't have any feelings for me.”

I look up at him, take in his soft, liquid eyes, the curve of his lips, the smooth skin along his cheekbones. I can’t say that to him. He’ll know I’m lying.

*** EXCERPT 5 ***

“Ooohhh,” she squirms, wrapping her legs around me, Venus fly trap style. Our bodies are damp, steam curling off them. My cock strains even more against the fabric, as she plants more hot, desperate, needy kisses on my face and neck. It’s like we can’t get enough of one another. With wilful abandon we touch and stroke and feel, tongues lapping, mouths clamping. Her fingers wrap around my neck, and her ankles cross around my back. Her heels dig in and I grind my hips against her.

I want to sink inside her. I palm her pebbled nipple and, unsatisfied and greedy, pull down one of her straps and bra cup to expose a beautiful pert breast. My mouth suctions around it and I suck as if my life depends on it.

She throws her head back, giving me unfettered access to her neck and jawline. For a moment I stop and look at her, her eyes are half closed, lashes so long and curly. Her mouth is parted and she’s semi topless. She looks like an erotic painting. Just then she opens her eyes and stares at me, as if she doesn't understand why I’ve stopped to stare.

“You can't ...” She shakes her head, disappointment veiling her features.

“Can't what?” My voice is hoarse with need, and pain, as if my engorged cock will wither and die if it doesn’t get a release.

“You can’t stop now…”

“What makes you think I have any intention of stopping?”

*** EXCERPT 6 ***

I pull her panties to the side and slide a finger, making her shudder as she clenches around me. No, I do not want to stop.

I couldn’t, unless she asked me to.

But she wants this, and she opens for me, widening her legs on the dryer. I slide in another finger and stroke her nub. She arches her back, moaning deep and dirty. I want to dive in and eat her out, but I also want much more. The torment of exploring and seeing her all over again is too much for me to take things slowly.

“You’re so ready,” I murmur, my thumb sliding over her easily.

I pull down the other bra cup so that her breasts are uncovered. She puts her hands behind her and leans back a little. With the dryer spinning, she jiggles around on top, vibrating with the spin cycle, her perky breasts bouncing. I pump my fingers in and out, like pistons. Each sweep elicits moans from her. She parts her legs wider, as if she wants more of me inside her. I hook my finger inside her and she lets out a squeal. In the haze of my brain, it occurs to me to rip the tiny little piece of fabric away. But doing it like this, so that it partly reveals her, and partly covers her, is sensual.

It’s dirty.

She's almost naked, but not quite. She grinds herself against my hand and starts to shudder, as if she’s on the edge of her orgasm.

Not yet.

I pull my fingers out and she whimpers, until I claim her mouth and kiss her hard. Our tongues stroke and taste and lick, and we go at it like two wild animals.

I need to fuck her here. Now. But in the distant edges of my mind, I have enough awareness to think of her. It won't be comfortable for her, not like this, and I want space and softness for her. Not the cold hard edges of an appliance.

“Do you have condoms?” Her voice is raspy as I lift her off the dryer.

I’m embarrassed to admit that I do. “Will you hate me if I say 'yes'?”

“You do? Oh, thank God, thank God,” she mumbles against my neck. In answer I palm her breasts roughly and devour her with another kiss. She’s a smorgasbord of delight. I don’t know what to taste or kiss or touch and stroke next., I’m spoiled for choice.

My cock could so easily slide inside her. I don't carry rubbers around with me because I don’t expect to have sex with women other than my wife—and that fizzled out years ago. I’m not a guy who makes moves on women. But being with Megan, I had to be prepared. I’ve had to guardrail my heart and my emotions, because goodness knows this woman has tried to get me to make a move on her. She’s been hard to resist.

Impossible.

Her ankles dig harder into my lower back as she tightens her grip around me.

Fuck.

I pull down my boxers, needing the release, needing to feel her. I have a mind to fuck her right here. Then I remember … the condom is in the back pocket of my jeans which are in the dryer.

“I need a moment,” I manage to mutter, as I bend to retrieve my jeans but her parted legs steal my attention. I want my cock inside her, filling her to the hilt, making her mine. I want to watch her come and fall apart under my gaze while I fuck her into oblivion. I want her to be mine forever, but she is so wet, glistening under the tawdry light that I can’t help myself, and roll my tongue over her, lapping at her juices.

Oh, fuck.

The smell, the taste, it makes me want to come right now. I bury my nose against her, memories of her familiar scent reawakening. She tastes like an elixir I never want to stop drinking.