With This Man Read online

  A comfortable silence falls, Ava snoozing peacefully, me staring at the ceiling, happy to let her rest undisturbed.

  I have a few precious days before the kids come home to help Ava find the breakthrough she needs, and my confidence that I can is slipping with each hour that passes. With the twins home, we’ll have to readjust all over again. Trivial things such as taking them to school will be an issue for both of us – Ava because she doesn’t even know what damn school they go to, or where it is, and me because I never want to let her drive ever again. Never want her to leave my sight. Leaving my family, even for only a few hours, has always been a challenge for me. Stupid, yes. Or maybe not so stupid, given where I am now. The first day of school for the twins was one of the worst days of my life. The teacher didn’t take too kindly to me refusing to leave the classroom, and Ava ended up dragging me out by my shirt. And to rub salt into my grumpy wounds, my babies didn’t bat an eyelid when I left. I sulked the whole way to work. But, of course, my wife can’t remember any of that.

  Remember, I demand silently, boring holes into the back of her head, willing the memories to rise to the surface. Remember me. Remember us. This helpless feeling isn’t getting better, no matter how many new memories I’m building in an attempt to replace the old ones. The old memories are the original memories. Back then, she didn’t need to love me. She chose to, even though it could be argued that I didn’t give her much choice. Now, I can’t help the tinge of worry that this time she really doesn’t feel like she has much choice. She woke up with that ring on her finger. She woke up with a ready-made family. She woke up to people, people she loves and knows, telling her who I am and who she is. My wife. The mother of my children. My fucking world.

  My sigh is deep, despondent, and my chest lifts, rolling Ava upon it. I flatten my palms on her hips and stroke gently onto her thighs, making wide circles across her skin. I don’t miss the slight tensing of her body, and I notice her nipples have hardened in the steaming water. Her arms, still linked over my head, shift a little, as does her bottom, catching me a treat on my growing cock. I cringe to myself and still my hands. What was I thinking, putting myself in the bath with her? Talk about a glutton for punishment. She shifts again, and this time I growl under my breath, biting down on my tongue to get me through the amazing feeling of her soft arse nuzzling my cock. She’s doing this on purpose, trying to break me, wear me down, get the upper hand.

  My hands take on a mind of their own and slide a fraction inward, taking my touch to between her thighs. I relax and let my senses guide me, and right now my senses want her in every way they can. My face plummets to her hair and I inhale, my fingers creeping closer to her centre. Her legs spread, opening like they could be the gates to heaven. Her face turns out, her cheek resting on my pec, her eyes closed, her lips parted.

  ‘You want me to touch you, baby?’ I ask quietly, skimming the swollen lips at her entrance teasingly before withdrawing, going back to circling her thighs. Her body arches on me, her boobs lifting, sending streams of water pouring down the sides of her body. ‘Is that a yes?’

  One hand leaves the back of my neck and reaches down for my hand, trying to put it where she wants it to be. The fact that that’s where I want my hand to be, too, is beside the point. She needs to ask. Nicely.

  ‘Tell me,’ I all but growl, resisting her attempts to move my hand. ‘You want my fingers where my cock was last night?’ I break free of her hold and take my hands to the perfect mounds of her wet breasts, cupping each one.

  All she seems to be able to do is mumble broken sounds of pleasure, water lapping her body as she gently squirms on top of me.

  ‘I can’t hear you.’ I dip and nibble at her ear. ‘Lost for words, lady?’

  ‘Oooh, God.’

  I smile. ‘That’s better.’ I move my hands back to between her legs and massage her gently, keeping my touch just shy of her entrance. Fuck, she feels so good. So wet, so warm, so mine. Her whole being goes lax above me, every curve melting into my chest and thighs, her weight perfectly placed, her arms back to curling around my neck. Her head falls limply to the side, eyes drowsy, and I just watch her, transfixed as I play with her, tease her, slowly breach her entrance and withdraw again. ‘Feel good?’ I whisper.

  Her answer is a long, breathy sigh. I’m fucking solid, but I have no desire to roll us over and sink into her. I just want to watch her take the pleasure I’m giving.

  All. Day. Long.

  Her swollen flesh slides across my touch divinely; her soft walls suck my fingers in insatiably. The tips of her nipples beckon me. She is gorgeous. The only sign of her slow build to orgasm is the increasing tension in her body, subtle but obvious when she’s spread all over me, her back slipping across my chest. Half of me wants to maintain this level of pleasure for her, where she’s teetering on the edge, ready to roll over and seize her climax. But the other half of me wants to hear her scream my name.

  My control is taken away from me when she suddenly spins, her position putting the juncture of her thighs perfectly level with my raging dick. Hands above my head, clinging to the edge of the tub, she reaches forward, nuzzles my nose, my cheek, my chin, and then her hips shift slightly, sending my cock plunging with ease into her. I cough my surprise, gritting my teeth, every inch of my skin suddenly tingling. Breath is hard to find, control even harder. ‘That was sneaky,’ I pant against her cheek, my cock pulsating wildly, desperate to lunge forward.

  ‘Be quiet,’ she warns, attacking my mouth with a firm but gentle force, whimpering happily when I put up no fight. She has me just where she wants me, and rather than obsess with how uneasy she’s taking it, I relish in the knowledge that she clearly finds me irresistible. She wants me. Fifty years old, and she wants me.

  Taking my hands to her arse, I cover her cheeks with my palms and guide her in slow, amazing circles, grinding her onto me while she hums into my mouth, her tongue fighting delicately with mine. What would I ever do without this? Without her? I pull back, needing to see her face, needing to check she’s real. ‘Give me your eyes.’ My heart’s beating, hard and steadily; I know she’s here, but I need to see those eyes. It’s an effort for her, but she drags them open, her lashes wet and heavy, her brown gaze drenched with yearning. Or is that love? ‘I love you.’ I whisper the words, my head dropping back against the bath, the muscles in my neck failing me. ‘Words have never been enough, Ava. I’ve always had to show you.’

  ‘Are you showing . . .’ She fades off, her forehead falling against mine on a groan. ‘Now?’ she whispers. ‘Are you showing me now?’

  ‘I’m showing you every second.’ Our eyes are so close; our lashes are touching. ‘With no you, there is no me.’ I’m not telling her this to frighten her, or to make her feel bad. It’s not emotional blackmail. I’m telling her because it is a fact. ‘I’m dust without you. Hollow.’ I roll my hips, driving deeply. She loses the ability to keep her eyes open, and her lids drop, her fingers now gripping my hair. ‘Open,’ I demand, and she does. ‘You are etched so deeply in my heart, it cannot beat without you there.’

  ‘Because it only beats for me,’ she whispers, and I nod. She gets it. In this crazy situation she’s in, she completely gets it, and it’s the ridiculous connection neither of us could stop when we met that’s happening now and confirming it. It’s telling her what we have. Guiding her.

  ‘I don’t know how I know, but I know.’ Her fingers tighten in my hair, and the tiny clenches of her internal walls stroke my cock, taking me closer to that special place. ‘Together.’ Her murmured demand brings tears to my fucking eyes.

  ‘Always together, baby,’ I confirm, my arms crawling up her back and taking her in a hug as we carry each other to release, our bodies crushed together, our hips flexing in sync, our eye contact never faltering. And when we go, we go together, me holding my breath to restrain my roar, Ava panting into my face, her jaw tight.

  ‘Oh Jesus.�
�� Air bursts out of me, the sensitivity becoming too much, though I endure it, seeing she’s still riding the waves of her orgasm.

  And when she’s over it, she collapses on my chest in a heap, gasping for breath. ‘You are the best sex I’ve ever had.’

  I don’t know whether to laugh or flip my lid. ‘For the sake of my health, let’s just say I’m the only sex you’ve ever had.’

  ‘Possessive?’

  ‘You got that, huh?’ I jolt through a laugh when her teeth sink into my shoulder. ‘You’re a savage, Mrs Ward.’

  She settles and I settle, too, relaxed, sated and happy. And that’s exactly how we remain until the water is far too cold for my liking, and definitely too cool for my wife. She has goose bumps, no matter how much I rub my hands all over her back. ‘That’s enough tub-time.’

  She resists me when I try to get up, becoming a dead weight on my chest. ‘I’m comfy.’

  ‘You’re cold.’ I rise from the water with ease, Ava attached to my front. ‘And I need to feed you.’

  ‘You think you can manage that without injuring yourself?’ She points to my hand, a look of dismay clouding her features.

  ‘That wasn’t my fault.’ My curled lip returns, along with my resentment. ‘You know, your mother really has mastered the art of winding me up.’ I place her on her feet and take a towel, smothering her with it, rubbing at her wet hair while she stands motionless before me, letting me do what I’m gonna do.

  ‘Something tells me it doesn’t take much to wind you up.’

  I ignore her and turn her by her shoulders, leading her to the dressing room. ‘I like the black knickers. There’s a matching bra just there,’ I tell her, opening her drawer.

  ‘And what’s this?’ she asks, reaching in and pulling something from beneath the tons of lace. I’m suddenly facing my nemesis.

  ‘That’s nothing.’ I swipe the vibrator from her hand and hide it behind my back, my face contorted with the contempt I really feel for the damn thing.

  ‘Is that thing mine?’ She looks alarmed. Welcome to my world, honey.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Then what’s it doing in my drawer?’ She tries to reach around me to claim it, frowning at me when I step away, keeping a firm hold.

  ‘No idea.’ I turn and stalk away, set on finally throwing it in the trash. The last thing I need right now is a machine replacing me. Never. I need all of her pleasure. And I need her to need it, too.

  As I make it to the stairs, I take the first step, but stagger to a stop when my arm is jolted, the vibrator suddenly gone from my hands. I swing around and find Ava inspecting it, her eyes running up and down the sparkly shaft. ‘Give it back,’ I warn, with all the threat I really mean.

  Eyes flicking to mine, she smirks. ‘But it’s mine.’

  ‘No,’ I correct her, cupping my cock and mildly thrusting my hips forward, delighting in her eyes falling to my groin. ‘This is yours. That thing isn’t needed.’

  With her lips pressed together, she gives me a wicked smirk. Then she flicks it on. The buzz. That fucking buzz has haunted me for the past twelve years. When is the damn thing going to die? ‘Do I use it much?’

  I’m not having this conversation. ‘Never. Give it to me.’ I make a grab for it, but she’s speedily taken it behind her back.

  There’s a playful glint in her eye, one that I would pay endless amounts of cash to see permanently. I’m not the kind of man to pass up an opportunity, and standing before me is an opportunity. One that is goading me.

  Clearing my throat, I stand tall and roll my shoulders, my head cocked, my smile cunning. ‘Three,’ I state clear and low, taking one step forward, encouraging Ava’s one step back.

  ‘Oh, like that, is it? Your silly little countdown?’

  ‘Silly?’ I chuckle, if only for effect, briefly looking down at my bare feet, scuffing the carpet with them casually. ‘No, no, lady.’ I peek up through my lashes, nibbling on my bottom lip. ‘You think it’s far from silly when I catch you. Two.’ Another step forward for me, another step back for Ava. I’m not worried. She could put a mile between us and I’d still catch her.

  ‘Remind me what happens when you catch me.’

  ‘One,’ I counter, lunging threateningly, smiling like a crazy man when she jumps back, startled, before quickly composing herself.

  ‘Then I guess I’ll find out for myself.’ She shrugs, blasé, and flicks the vibrator off. ‘I’m a fast runner.’

  I fall apart on the inside. Her bravado is cute. And a complete waste of her time. ‘Baby, I always win. If you remember anything, you would do well to remember that.’

  She scoffs.

  I grin.

  She narrows her eyes at me.

  I grin harder. ‘Zero, baby,’ I whisper, and she’s off, though not as fast as she would like, her limp evident. And I suddenly wonder what the fuck I’m doing encouraging this. She’ll do herself damage, and all because she wants to prove a point. ‘Ava, stop!’

  ‘No way, Ward.’ She hobbles off down the stairs, and I mentally kick myself repeatedly for being such a careless fool.

  I don’t run after her, I walk, though I walk fast, ready to shut down this game immediately. ‘Ava, I’m not playing.’ I see her round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, the vibrator waving above her head, now buzzing again. She’s laughing. I’m not. I’m not in the least bit amused. ‘Ava, for fuck’s sake, stop running!’

  ‘Not so you can catch me. I know your game, Ward.’

  I speed up, my pace now urgent. ‘Ava!’ I roar, my patience fraying. Has she no fucking self-awareness? ‘I swear to God, if you don’t pack it in, I’ll—’

  ‘What? Give me the countdown?’ She cackles. ‘That ship’s sailed, Ward.’

  I throw myself down the final few steps, now fuming fucking mad, mixed with a ton of panic, too. If she doesn’t kill herself with this recklessness, then I’ll do the fucking job myself. I hear the back door slam. The garden? ‘Ava!’ Flying through the house like a hurricane, I just manage to yank the door open before I throw myself through the glass. I see her running across the lawn towards the trampoline. I’m gaining on her, and she looks back over her shoulder, her smile splitting her face. ‘Stop,’ I warn, running after her.

  ‘I can’t believe you’d get so worked up over my Weapon of Mass Des—’ Her words scream to a halt, and so does her body, so quickly that I nearly charge her down. I catch her arms, and she looks at me, her face vacant. ‘Destruction,’ she breathes, half-unsure, half-exhausted, her stare stuck to the vibrator in her hand. She drops it like a hot potato, like it could be on fire, and takes her palms to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut.

  My heart rate rockets. ‘Ava? Ava, baby, what’s wrong?’

  She yells, her body bending forward, like she’s trying to make herself small to protect her from something. What? Pain? Fuck, my heart’s going to fall at her feet any moment. ‘Ava, for fuck’s sake.’ I take the tops of her arms and bend, trying to get her face in my sights. And when I do, I hate what I see.

  Her expression is agony, contorted with pain. Oh Jesus, something’s seriously wrong. Instinct steams forward and has me scooping her from her feet and running back to the house, set on calling an ambulance, a doctor, or maybe even racing her to the hospital myself.

  ‘Jesse, stop!’

  Like she could have turned me off, my feet slow, and she wriggles from my arms, taking her hands back to her head and closing her eyes. ‘There’s too many.’ She balls her fists, obviously frustrated.

  ‘Too many what?’

  ‘Things. Things happening in my head.’

  My heart that was racing only gathers more speed. Memories? Is she talking about memories?

  ‘Urhhhh!’ she yells, and bashes the side of her head. I move in, seizing her hands and pulling them away.

  ‘Stop,’ I demand,
forcing her arms to her sides. ‘Just stop it!’ She looks up at me, squinting, her forehead wrinkled with the effort it’s taking her to think. ‘Take your time, baby.’ I pull her down to the grass and hold her hands, letting her have a moment to straighten out everything in her head. ‘Just take your time.’ I’m trying so hard not to get carried away. Trying desperately not to let my hope run away with me. ‘Tell me what you see.’

  ‘I don’t know, it’s all fuzzy.’ Her hands crush mine, her eyes wide and wild. ‘It’s you.’

  Oh my God. My head drops back, and I look to the sky, thanking God for this breakthrough. ‘Where am I?’ I drop my sights back onto her, gently encouraging, moving in closer on my knees.

  ‘I don’t know, but you’re mad. Really mad.’

  If it was appropriate, I’d laugh. ‘Ava, there are many times in our history that I’ve been crazy mad. You need to be a bit more specific.’

  ‘You can’t move.’

  My forehead becomes heavy with my frown as I rack my brain for something that’ll clue me in on where she’s at. I have nothing.

  ‘Thirty.’ Looking up at me, she searches my face for anything to suggest I’m following. I’m not, and I feel awful that I can’t offer any insight. It’s cryptic. ‘Thirty,’ she repeats, now louder, and there’s a bit of excitement building. And then she’s quickly standing up, looking down at me, virtually shaking with exhilaration. I don’t know why. Thirty means nothing. Not being able to move means nothing. Together, they mean nothing. I flinch when she claps her hands, holding them together in front of her delighted face. ‘I’m thirty-fucking-seven!’ she wails. ‘You can’t move because you’re handcuffed to the bed! You’re thirty-fucking-seven!’

  Jesus Christ. I breathe out, overcome, feeling like the sky is falling and blanketing me in pure, unrelenting happiness. It’s too overwhelming, and I plummet to my back on the grass, looking up to the heavens in gratitude.

  ‘I remembered something!’ She dives on top of me, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at her. ‘Not just words, but I saw you there! Going fucking ballistic!’ Her lips land on mine, kissing me hard.