With This Man

  ‘I’ll join you soon,’ I shout at their backs. ‘Just as soon as I’ve dealt with your mother,’ I add quietly, pacing towards the stairs, hoping Elizabeth has buggered off so I can find out what’s going on with that fucking vibrator.

  I bump into my beautiful wife halfway down the stairs. The Weapon of Mass Destruction is in her hand, a condemning scowl on her face. She wants a scowling match? I’ll win every time.

  Stopping in my tracks, I curl my lip and growl under my breath, maintaining our staring deadlock. But, fuck me, it’s hard when she looks so effortlessly gorgeous. So . . . mine.

  I give my cock a mental pep talk, telling it to behave until I’ve vented. It fails, my shorts beginning to tent. It doesn’t escape Ava’s notice, her eyes dropping to my groin, her eyebrow curving as a lust I’m all too familiar with fills her eyes. We’ll be having none of that. Not yet, anyway.

  ‘Explain,’ I demand, shoving an accusing finger at the thing in her hand.

  She pouts, looking at the device before slowly lifting her sparkling eyes back up to me, not missing the opportunity to drag her stare over my bare chest. There goes my cock again, lurching behind my shorts. A ghost of a smile curves her lips, and her eyes glimmer with mischief.

  She casually slinks past me, and my body turns slowly, following her. She stops at our bedroom door. ‘Jesse?’ she says in that low, husky voice that drives me wild.

  ‘Yeah?’ I answer, dragging the word out warily.

  She puckers her lips and kisses thin air. ‘Fuck you.’ She rushes into the room and slams the door behind her.

  What the fuck? ‘Ava!’ I yell, stamping my way to the door. ‘Watch your fucking mouth!’ I grab the handle and push all of my weight into the wood, jarring it a little. I can hear her laughing beyond. Oh, she wants to play, huh? I release the door and stand back. I could probably burn a hole through it with my glare. I take a deep breath and give her what I know she’s asking for. ‘Three . . .’ I state coolly.

  ‘I’m not letting you in.’

  ‘Two.’

  ‘Fuck off, Jesse.’

  My hackles rise, and I thump the door, spiking another teasing giggle from beyond. Oh, she’s getting it. Hard. ‘One!’

  ‘Screw you, Ward!’

  My chest puffs out, and I stand back, locking and loading. ‘Zero, baby!’ I yell, launching my shoulder into the door. It opens with ease, as I knew it would, Ava having wisely moved away in preparation for what she knew was coming. I catch her by the wrist before she even thinks to run. ‘Got you.’ I whirl her around and throw her up onto my shoulder, taking her to the bed. We land in a tatty tangle, and only a few seconds later, she’s naked, my skin on her skin, my dick dancing. I find my place between her thighs and grab her cheeks, pushing my nose to hers. ‘I have two words for you.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Retribution and Fuck.’ I sink my face into her neck and bite her, licking and lapping at her flesh. ‘You ready, baby?’ My eyes close in utter bliss, waiting for her sigh and the subtle, teasing flex of her hips.

  ‘I want a boob job.’

  My eyes spring open, and I’m out of my happy place in her neck in a nanosecond. I need to see her face so I can gauge whether she’s winding me up or not. As I stare down at my wife’s beauty in utter shock, I quickly conclude that she’s not winding me up at all. She’s biting her lip nervously, and I’m pretty sure she’s holding her breath. My cock shrivels to nothing.

  ‘What the actual fuck, Ava?’

  ‘I want a boob job,’ she repeats quietly.

  ‘Forget it.’

  ‘Jesse . . .’

  ‘No way.’ I push myself up to my knees, my gaze automatically falling to her boobs. The boobs I love. The boobs that give me hours of pleasure. Soft boobs. Natural boobs. My fucking boobs. I inwardly moan at the thought of someone taking a knife to them. ‘Hell will freeze over,’ I tell her. ‘You can get that idea right out of your head.’

  She follows my line of sight to her breasts and cups them. For once, watching Ava touch herself does nothing for my libido. What the hell is she thinking? ‘They need an injection of life,’ she muses, her chin on her chest as she inspects each one. ‘They’re going south.’

  ‘The only thing that just went south is my dick.’ A cold shower couldn’t have been as effective. ‘Like I said, not while I’m alive and breathing. Not even when I’m dead. I’ll find a way to come back to life so I can trample your arse. Forget it, Ava. They’re mine and I like them just the way they are.’

  ‘You really are being unreasonable,’ she mutters as I laugh my way into the bathroom and flip on the shower. ‘And they’re actually my boobs, not yours.’

  That statement pulls me back to the door. She’s staring at me defiantly. She knows she’s not going to win this one but will try anyway, and piss me off even more in the fucking process. ‘How long has it been since I found you?’ I ask.

  ‘Twelve years,’ she spits back matter-of-factly, obviously holding back her eye-roll.

  ‘Then discussions over ownership are out of fucking date. We cleared up that small detail within weeks of knowing each other.’

  ‘Or so you told me.’ Her nostrils flare. ‘And year thirteen might be your unlucky year, Ward.’

  I jump back a little, startled. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘It means,’ she snipes, sitting up on the bed and folding her arms over her chest, ‘that year thirteen might be the year I leave you.’

  I gasp, horrified, despite the fact that her fingers go straight to her hair, playing with the strands. She’s lying. It doesn’t matter. She still has the nerve to say it. ‘Take that back right now.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Ava.’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  ‘Mouth!’ I steam forward, outraged, ready to put her back in her place. She tries to escape. She could have a mile head start and I’d catch her. Always will. She scrambles across the bed, aware that she’s pushed me too far, and screams when I catch her ankle, dragging her back towards me. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ I ask, flipping her over and straddling her stomach, arms pinned safely above her head with one hand.

  ‘Get off me!’

  I do the only thing there is to do. I look down at the sensitive spot by her hip, grinning evilly.

  She stills. ‘Jesse, no.’

  I ignore her and go in for the kill, sinking my fingers into her tickle spot and going to town, digging, squeezing, and generally making it as unbearable as possible.

  ‘Oh my God.’ She sucks in air and starts going loopy beneath me, bucking and screaming her displeasure. ‘No! I’ll . . . pee . . .’ She laughs uncontrollably, then shouts in vexation, ‘I’m going to wee myself!’

  ‘Take it back now,’ I warn, not letting up. A bit of pee between husband and wife is no skin off my nose.

  ‘I take it back!’

  ‘Are you leaving me, wife?’ I ask, giving her an extra-brutal squeeze.

  ‘Never!’ She gasps for breath, her body arching violently.

  ‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.’ I release her and she jumps up off the bed, holding herself between her legs. ‘Knock yourself out, lady.’

  She pelts to the bathroom. ‘You bastard!’ The door slams and I chuckle to myself, following behind, though less speedily than Ava. I walk in to find her sitting on the loo. She scowls at me. I grin.

  Stepping into the shower, I start belting out a bit of Justin Timberlake, squeezing some gel onto the sponge. ‘How was your day, dear?’ I ask.

  ‘Fine.’ Grabbing her toothbrush, she slaps on some paste and starts scrubbing. ‘’ought . . . orrow . . . ate . . . am . . . ryone . . . irthday.’

  I look at her incredulously through the glass. ‘Wanna run that by me again?’

  She spits out the paste. ‘On Saturday, everyone is co
ming around for your birthday barbecue.’

  ‘I’m not having a birthday barbecue,’ I say with utter finality, going back to scrubbing down. ‘We’ve discussed this.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts, Ava. I’m not celebrat . . .’ I drift off, realising that I was about to break my own rule: no mentioning the dreaded number.

  ‘Celebrating the fact that you’re turning fifty?’ She cocks her head at me, her toothbrush going back into her mouth.

  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.

  ‘Oh no,’ I hear Maddie breathe. ‘He’s going to trample the cake.’

  I roll my eyes and blow out the candles while everyone has a laugh at my expense. Sam slaps me on the back and grins.

  ‘Don’t say a word,’ I warn before my friend can hit me with some sarcastic wisecrack. ‘You’re no spring chicken yourself.’

  He laughs and cocks his head. I wish I could be as complacent about my age. ‘I’m a few years behind you, my man. Don’t tar me with the same old brush.’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  ‘Jesse Ward!’ Ava’s mother cries, placing her hands over Maddie’s ears while sharply nodding at her husband, Joseph, to take care of Jacob’s. My father-in-law doesn’t even bother, and instead ruffles my boy’s hair on a smile filled with pride. Maddie shrugs her nan off and starts picking off the candles on my cake, counting them as she does, just to rub salt into my wounds. She gets to thirteen before a heavily pregnant Kate intervenes.

  Ava’s best friend smiles down at my girl, who’s now looking up at her in question. ‘Let’s not upset your dad any more,’ Kate says quietly, but not too quietly that I miss it. She flicks her eyes to mine, and the smile I had pointed at her swollen belly drops when I catch her smirking at me.

  ‘This is the worst party ever.’ I huff my way to the kitchen to get a Bud, considering the benefits of getting blind drunk. And then I immediately scold myself for thinking such thoughts. Never. I pull the fridge open and make fast work of knocking the cap off a bottle.

  ‘I’d ask you if you want something stronger, but I know you’re not up for it,’ Sam says, wandering into the kitchen as I slam the fridge door.

  ‘Don’t tempt me.’ I knock back another glug as Drew joins us. His suit is so pristine, he couldn’t have sat, bent, or even moved in it since he put it on. ‘Bit over the top for a BBQ, isn’t it?’ I ask.

  ‘I have somewhere special to be after I’ve finished relishing in your misery.’ He moves past me to the fridge and helps himself to a beer, ignoring the look of surprise on my face. I glimpse at Sam, finding his expression matches mine.

  Somewhere special? ‘What’s more special than being with your mate on his fiftieth?’ I bring my bottle to my lips as I watch Drew flip the cap off his beer.

  ‘I’m going to ask Raya to marry me.’ He barely whispers the words.

  My snort of surprise sends my beer spraying so far, it hits every wall in my expansive kitchen. And Drew doesn’t dodge it. I cough, choke and sniff, while Sam laughs and Drew looks at me like he wants to rip my head off. He undoubtedly does. I’ve messed u
p his suit. He slams his bottle on the counter, nostrils flaring, though his face remains stoic. Married? Drew? There’s no question he’s found his girl in the beautiful Raya; I’ve never seen him so happy and settled, but . . . marriage? I just never imagined he’d venture down that road.

  ‘Jesse,’ Drew snaps, brushing down his suit jacket. ‘For fuck’s sake. Look!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I snatch a tea towel off the side and chuck it at him.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Kate waddles into the kitchen with some empty plates, Ava in tow.

  ‘Drew’s asking Raya to marry him,’ Sam and I declare in unison, making the girls pull to an abrupt stop before they both gasp, hands at their mouths, and then swoon all over Drew.

  ‘Will you keep it down, she’ll hear you,’ he mutters, throwing the tea towel with force at me before fighting the girls away. It smacks me in the face before I catch it.

  ‘Hear what?’ Raya asks, appearing in the kitchen with a dish balancing on one hand, a glass of wine in the other.

  ‘Nothing!’ we all sing, all grinning.

  Drew rolls his eyes and collects his girl. ‘We’re going.’

  ‘We are?’ Raya slides the dish onto the counter, looking a bit bewildered as Drew takes her glass from her hand and leads her to the door. ‘What about Georgia?’

  Drew tosses a smirk over his shoulder at me. ‘Uncle Jesse said she could stay.’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘We did,’ Ava pipes up. ‘Have fun!’ she calls, before moving into Kate’s side. ‘Do you think he still has his cock pierced?’ she whispers in Kate’s ear.

  What the fuck? I swing an incredulous look at my wife, whose mouth snaps shut quickly, her back going all straight as she looks at me, her lips pressed together. I give her an expectant look, and she shrugs, looking away guiltily. ‘Just what I’ve heard.’ She bites her lip, glancing at Kate, who chuckles, clutching her belly.

  ‘Stop. I’ll pee myself.’

  I glare at Ava. ‘How’d you know Drew has his cock pierced?’

  She shrugs, all casual. ‘Like I said, just something I heard.’