Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I flinch as I rub some shampoo into my hair. ‘I’m not turning fifty,’ I mutter, hearing her sigh. It’s fine for her. She’s still fresh as a daisy at thirty-eight. Thirty-fucking-eight! That’s pretty much how old I was when I met Ava. Look how fast the years have whizzed by. If the next twelve years roll by as quickly, I’ll be drawing my pension soon. My stomach churns with dread.
‘You’re still my god,’ Ava says softly, pulling my attention back to her. She’s just outside the shower now, looking at me closely.
‘I know.’
‘And you’re still the handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.’
‘I know.’ I shrug.
‘And you still fuck like a god on steroids.’ She pushes her lips into the glass and kisses it.
‘Yeah, I know.’ I meet her lips on the other side.
‘Then what’s the problem, you gorgeous god?’
‘Nothing,’ I sigh. I’m being stupid, but fifty sounds so much older than forty-nine. I shut the shower off, and she moves back for me to get out, handing me a towel. I rub myself down and go to the mirror, looking myself up and down. Solid. It’s all solid. As hard today as it was twelve years ago. And my face. Rough with four days’ worth of stubble, and my skin is fresh. Quite honestly, I don’t look much different. I know that. But it’s more psychological. Fucking fifty.
A pair of arms comes around my waist, and her naked front pushes into my back, hugging me. ‘You’re beautiful and all mine,’ she says, making me smile.
‘That’s my line.’
She releases me and steps to the side, looking up at me. ‘Don’t get a complex. It doesn’t suit you.’
I nod my agreement, kicking myself up the arse. What’s up with me? I look good, my wife is wonderful, and my kids are the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. I’m the luckiest man alive. I need to sort my shit out. I turn to the cupboard above the sink and grab down my deodorant. Ava’s small pill packet catches my eye. ‘You taken your pill today?’ I ask.
‘Oh, I forgot. Pass them here.’
‘Really, Ava?’ I grab them and thrust them into her hand. ‘Don’t forget shit like that.’ I shudder.
She ignores my evident dread and pops one, swallowing it with some water. ‘So about the school party . . .’
‘I’ve told her she can go,’ I say before messing with my hair and wandering back into the bedroom. ‘But I’m taking her there and collecting her afterwards, and she’d better answer my calls or I’m going in.’ I pull some boxers on and snap the waistband. ‘So you can stop with your nagging.’
‘I don’t nag,’ she spits indignantly.
‘Not much.’
‘Do you want a slap, Ward?’
‘Do you want a Sense Fuck, Mrs Ward?’ I cock my head expectantly and watch as the rush of desire returns swiftly to her cheeks. That look alone brings my dick back to life. Oh, damn, I need her again.
‘Dad!’ Jacob’s voice invades the bedroom, and my cock shrivels to nothing. Ava sags, clearly disappointed that another Danger Fuck is now off the cards. Because the danger has just made its presence known. ‘Dad, you coming to play?’
‘On my way, mate,’ I call, slipping on my shorts.
‘Cock blocker,’ Ava grumbles, giving me her cheek when I approach.
I kiss her lightly around my smile, and she pushes her flesh onto my mouth. ‘Sleepy twilight sex by the pool tonight?’
Her eyes light up like sparkling diamonds. ‘Deal.’
I grab my trainers and head for the door. ‘And the next time you use that dildo without me, there will be no loving for a whole week.’
‘What?’ Her shock is clear.
‘You heard.’
‘You couldn’t live without it for a week either, Ward. You’ll be punishing yourself more than me.’
I smile, taking the stairs two at a time. She’s right. ‘Then it’ll be a week of Apology Fucks instead.’ Ava’s mouth around my cock every day, twice a day for a week isn’t something to be sniffed at.
‘Fine by me.’
I laugh and hurry to the courts.
Chapter 3
‘Happy birthday, dear Jesse! Happy birthday to you!’
The chanting of my closest family and friends is enough to make me want to go on a rampage to track down the key to eternal youth. I can’t even see my fucking birthday cake through the raging fire on top of it. Fifty. How the fuck did this happen? Fifty! Maybe I could forget – God, would I love to forget – but my darling wife won’t let me, and in addition to the forest fire cooking my cake, there are balloons and banners plastered all over the house and garden, just in case the fact that I’m an old bastard had escaped me.
‘Anyone got a fire extinguisher handy?’ I ask, sucking as much air into my lungs as I can manage. I’m gonna need it.