After an incredible dinner at the new French restaurant over on the south side,

Avery and Doug arrived back at Doug's house. They settled onto the green velvet sofa with

glasses of wine.

Avery had been very impressed by the decor when she first saw where he lived all those months ago,

although he admitted it was all put together by a designer.

Still, the house was modern and luxurious, yet welcoming at the same time. There was something warm about it, and Avery enjoyed spending time there.

It was obvious that Doug had money, but he never seemed to flaunt it,

which was more appealing than the money itself.

It didn't look like the houses of most 50-year-old men,

Avery presumed. Doug turned on some soft jazz music that rang out through the speakers.

He wrapped his arm around Avery and pulled her in, kissing the top of her head.

Thank you for dinner, she said, breathing in the smell of Chanel Cologne.

It was amazing. I'm so full.

You are most welcome.

You still don't mind being out with someone nearly double your age?

Not one bit.

Avery felt him shift beneath her.

He took their glasses of wine, put them both on the coffee table, and then turned back to her.

Avery let out a soft moan as Doug leaned and parted her lips with his.

The kiss started off soft and gentle, but soon opened up into something deeper.

Come on, said Doug, breaking off their kiss. Let's go upstairs.

Avery followed Doug up to his bedroom, where he turned on a lamp as she sat on the edge of the bed.

...