It was wrong, but maybe that’s why it felt so right.
We met when Cole tackled the thief who stole my purse. It was raining. I was cold and hurt. Cole rested a hand on my forearm to reassure me. His touch was warm, his voice soft and confident. Neither of us could look away from one another. And then he smiled. For the first time since my cheating ex left me with a mountain of debt, I felt alive and beautiful, again.
Cole’s thick thighs and ripped abs are the source of endless fantasies, but he’s also a gentleman who sheltered me from harm. Not to mention, the thrill of being noticed by a much younger man.
Later that night, I wrote a blog post about my forbidden fantasy. It went viral instantly. Now my boss at the online site where I freelance wants me to see Cole again and to post about the taboo romance that’s captured the attention of thousands of people online.
We’re both consenting adults. Should it matter that Cole’s half my age? Or that I’m doing this to help pay my bills?
Is being with Cole wrong or…oh-so-right?