SwitchMeUp

Cristal Ryder

Steve wasn’t sure how finding a match on a dating site could
have gone so wrong—or was it so right? Younger than him by ten years, Clare
exudes confidence, sexuality and an erotic allure that leaves no room for
misinterpretation. She wants him. And he wants nothing more than to bury
himself in her heat. But Clare comes with some baggage. Literally. Once his
predatory minx breaks open the suitcase and the toys come out, Steve knows he’s
in for the wildest ride of his life.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Switch Me Up

ISBN 9781419938740

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Switch Me Up Copyright © 2012 Cristal Ryder

Edited by Grace Bradley

Cover design by Syneca

Photography by Shutterstock.com

Electronic book publication March 2012

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
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Acknowledgement

This book was inspired by a very special friend. I can’t
reveal my source or the exact experiences, but I’m glad to be able to share a
variation of them with you. A very special thank you to my wonderful CP Anya,
and to Grace, for having faith in me again.

She wasn’t his type, too young. He sensed a wildness about
her he wasn’t sure he was ready for. On the surface she was fine and demure,
maybe a little high-strung, yet there was an underlying erotic excitement that
turned him on. He was intrigued and drawn to her despite her age. He wanted to
know more about this chick’s wild side.

It wasn’t tangible, yet the aura hung around her like a
siren’s song. She definitely didn’t look the vixen part. More like the girl
next door, brown eyed, tanned, nicely rounded. Just the kind of girl you’d
bring home to mama. But the way she lounged on the couch and the air she gave
off, he knew she definitely wasn’t mama material.

Clare glanced up at him with a sultry smile when he handed
her the glass of scotch. She hesitated long enough for her fingers to graze
his. His dick answered with a twitch. God, he was getting hornier every second.

John’s prediction echoed in his brain.
She wants to fuck
you, buddy.
Maybe he was right. She was always touching him and sat close
in the restaurant during dinner, brushing her thigh against his. Of course he
didn’t move his leg away. He was curious to see how far she was willing to go.

She leapt at the offer of drinks at his house and Steve was
pretty sure he could get laid tonight without much effort. He smiled at her and
turned around to poke the fire. Images of them screwing on the couch ran
through his mind. He was ready.

She’d been sending huge fuck-me vibes all evening and he’d
received them loud and clear. His antenna wasn’t that rusty. Part of him was
leery heading down that path, and it warred with the other part who wanted to
get her in the sack asap. It’d been way too long since he last had sex. He’d
almost learned to live without it. After his volatile divorce years ago he
avoided emotional entanglement at all cost. It wasn’t easy to find a sex
partner without them wanting more. So he’d had a couple one-night stands, done
without or jacked off when he needed to.

John had prodded him to go on the dating site, and to shut
him up he did. Where he met Clare. He’d restricted his preferences, not wanting
to attract a freak show, but something told him the settings might have gone
askew. She was just a little too wild for what he indicated would be his
perfect match. Their two coffee dates had been tame enough so he’d ventured to
dinner. It was as if a different woman sat in front of him. Clare’s deep,
sultry looks, the way she wet her lips and her body language screamed sex. He
was a little surprised at her blatant behavior tonight. A total opposite to the
woman he’d had coffee with and her almost demure profile on the dating site.
But he wasn’t about to blow an opportunity for sex. After all, didn’t things
happen for a reason? Now here he was with this siren vixen and a hard dick.

Satisfied the fire was burning at its optimum, Steve sat on
the other end of the couch. He hooked his ankle over the opposite knee, trying
to conceal his building erection, and succeeded in creating greater pressure on
his already tight groin.

They talked about nothing in particular. The age of the
house, why he lived in the country, what she did. General small talk without
delving too deep into each other’s lives. She gazed around the room. He knew
she was allowing him the opportunity to give her the once-over. Yet the whole
time he got the distinct impression she was laying a net for him, a trap. One
he thought he just might want to get caught in.

He liked how she fit in the corner of the couch. One elbow
rested on the arm of the sofa and the other in her lap, holding her drink. Her
top hugged her torso and the tops of her tits swelled above the low neckline.
Steve gazed at her large breasts like a ravenous babe and imagined the nipples,
big and perfect for sucking on. He nearly groaned out loud and took a drink
instead.

She glanced at him.

“This is nice. So very relaxing, I could stay forever.”

That statement didn’t require any comment in his opinion, so
he didn’t reply, but thought she just might get her wish. For tonight anyway.
Definitely not forever.

He finished his drink faster than he should have. Her glass
was empty too. She stood and took his from his hand.

“Mind if I get us another drink?” She walked away without
waiting for his answer. “You stay put, I’ll be right back.”

He watched her leave, giving himself the opportunity to
check her out from behind. Her heart-shaped ass, clad in black pants, swayed
seductively and sure as shit his dick liked what he was looking at. She
disappeared around the wall into the kitchen. He breathed out a frustrated sigh
and relaxed into the couch.

Clare came back with full glasses, put them on the table and
curled up in the corner of the couch again. Steve watched her watch the fire.
No, being dark-haired and short, she wasn’t really his type. He much preferred
blondes and redheads who were taller so he didn’t have to bend so much. Being
over six feet posed challenges. Lots of guys liked them small and tiny, little
spinners. Not him. He liked them tall with long legs.

“Do you go online often looking for dates?”

The question startled him. “No, I don’t.”

“Oh, so I’m your first?”

Shit, that made him sound like a virgin or something. “I
guess if you want to call it that. Do you?”

She shrugged and slid a little closer to him on the couch.
“Are you divorced?”

“Yes.” Steve’s every nerve jumped to high alert and he
realized she avoided answering his question.

“How long?” She wiggled her hips and inched closer still.
She’d be sitting in his lap before long.

Why did she want to know all this?

“About twelve years.”

She giggled with that bit of news and leaned over to touch
his arm.
What’s so funny about that?

He realized she was touching him again.
Girls do that
when they want to fuck you.
John’s words came back yet again.

“Then I guess you don’t have sex much.”

He nearly spit out his drink. “Excuse me?”

“Sex. If you don’t go online much or date and have been
divorced for twelve years, you mustn’t have much sex.”

Steve watched her thigh, a mere inch from his, and chose to
not answer, because she was right. He wasn’t hounding all the time but he
wasn’t a monk either. He’d had his share but didn’t specifically go out looking
for it like some guys. He sucked back his drink and lifted his arm to check his
watch.

She rose from the couch all fluid grace and leaned over just
enough for him to catch a glimpse of her generous cleavage. Drawn like a
magnet, he shifted so he could see her tits better, arm still raised. Then he
jumped when her fingers dropped onto his thigh, a fraction away from his
already hard cock, and trailed a blistering path to his knee. If he didn’t know
better he could have sworn she’d just run a hot torch over his bare flesh. She
exuded sexuality so raw and powerful it left him paralyzed and he sat with his
arm stuck out like an idiot. So much for checking the time.

“I’ll be right back.” She dipped quickly, pressed her parted
lips to his and stood before he had a chance to react.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my bag.”

“Your bag? Why?”

“Weren’t you going to ask me to stay over?” She winked at
him. “It’s in my car.”

He was going to ask her to stay over? Steve thought about it
quickly. Yes, he supposed he was getting to that. But how the hell did she
know?

She has a fucking bag with her.

Clare flounced to the door and outside. He followed her and
peered into the dark country night that closed around her so completely. What
the fuck was she up to? He cleared his throat and adjusted the front of his
pants.

A thud of a car door reached him through the blackness. She
emerged from the dark rolling a suitcase over the gravel and up the front
walkway.

A suitcase! For one night? He was shocked as shit by her
audacity and secretly pleased by it too. But a suitcase? That really took the
cake.

What the hell could be in that monster-size bag? She did
seem a little high maintenance but a suitcase the size of a condo went a little
overboard. A thought ran through his mind and he chilled. Surely she wasn’t
planning on staying longer than tonight. He glanced at the offending bag. What
had he gotten himself into?

“I guess this means you’re staying the night then.” He
paused and looked at her, realizing how stupid the words sounded since it had
already been decided.

Clare propped her suitcase beside the door and turned to
face him, leaning against the wall.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She reached out. Steve hoped
she was going for the gold and held his breath, waiting for her fingers to grab
his balls. But she didn’t. Clare hooked her fingertips between the buttons on
his shirt and gave a little tug. Not hard enough to pull him off-balance but
enough to use as leverage to draw next to him.

Steve slipped his arms around her waist and held her. He
wanted to feel the press of her breasts against his chest. She tipped her head
to him, her lips moist and shiny. The color of her eyes was dark and
fathomless. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking and he really didn’t care
right about now. Steve was fairly confident what her intentions were and unless
he picked up on any alarming signals, he was ready to see what she had on her
mind.

“It’s chilly outside.” Clare shivered and led him to the
other room, hauling her suitcase with her free hand. “Let’s warm up by the fire.”

Steve felt the switch. With seamless ease Clare shifted the
night to exactly what she wanted. Her suitcase stood like an ominous monolith in
the room. He glanced at it. Even though it was just to her waist, it gave him
the impression of looming over him. The pockets and zippers on the side looked
like a mysterious face guarding all the secrets it held inside.

He tried not to worry about the suitcase yet had a difficult
time putting it out of his mind. Steve began to obsess but didn’t want to let
on to Clare. Then he remembered the cleaning lady had just been, meaning the
bathrooms were presentable and the sheets should have been changed. He’d better
check and make sure it was acceptable for what he knew was coming later.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Sure, hon.” She squeezed his forearm before moving to the
couch again.

Touch. She was a touchy-feely thing.