Flirting with Fifty
“Let them watch,” he answered, kissing the side of her neck, just below her jaw.
She closed her eyes, sighing with pleasure. It felt amazing when he kissed her like that. She’d forgotten how sensitive she was on her neck, and nape, and collarbones. But the memory was coming back. Her body was reminding her.
Not dead, not dead, not even close.
“You’re too good at this,” she whispered, and it wasn’t a criticism. Nor was it a complaint. More of an observation. “I’d invite you in, but I’m afraid things might get out of hand.”
“Like Paris?” His teeth scraped her earlobe.
She shuddered from head to toe, and her cheeks, already warm, tingled. Her mouth tingled. “You love to bring up Paris.”
“Things would be different from Paris, though. I’d make sure you had a real orgasm this time.”
Her eyes opened wide. “I did —”
He lifted his head, his eyes a golden sheen above her. “You did not. You faked it. We both know you faked it.”
Paige pushed him back, feigning outrage. “You can’t say that. You don’t know that. You’re not me, and you’re not my body—”
“I was in your body.”
“Oh my God.” She pushed him on the chest once more, pushing him back a step. “I did not fake it,” she choked, not sure whether to laugh or cry.
His expression was wicked. “I had a great time, even if you didn’t come. I simply viewed it as an opportunity to do better next time.”
“Whether I did, or didn’t, have an O is none of your concern. And for you to remember that all these years later —”
“You don’t remember? Has it truly slipped your mind?”
She pushed hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Again, none of your business,” she said primly.
“I have spent thirty years aware that I left you unsatisfied. I think that makes it my business.”
Paige couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. It was mortifying, and exasperating. And also rather funny. “I wasn’t unsatisfied. I was very satisfied—”
“Without an orgasm? How can that be satisfying? I don’t get it. Please explain.” Then Jack paused, expression shifting, brow creasing. “Have you still never had one? Not a judgment, just—”
“Yes. I have. I’m perfectly familiar with an orgasm, but I couldn’t that night. I wasn’t very experienced. I wasn’t used to getting naked and climbing into bed with strange men on the first date.”
“You were twenty.”
“Yes, and cautious, and conservative.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That I was still practically a virgin? Oh, that’s hot, isn’t it?” She shook her head. “There was no way I was going to tell you I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“No wonder you ran away. You must have been disappointed with me.”
“No. That’s not what happened. You were amazing. I just froze. I got in my head and couldn’t get out of it.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
She gave him a little push on his chest again, but she left her hand on his chest. His body was hard and warm, and she very much liked the feel of it. “You’re ruthless.”
He covered her hand with his. “I suggest you let me rectify the disappointment of that night. I’m confident I can please you.”
She laughed, nervous but intrigued. The idea of going to bed with Jack was there in the back of her mind, and yet it was also scary. She hadn’t been naked with anyone in so long. She didn’t think she even remembered how to have sex. “I think this is a good time to say good night.” Paige stood up on tiptoe, kissed him quickly on the mouth. “Good night, Jack. Thank you for coming to my party. Thank you for bringing me home.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for the make-out session. I enjoyed it very much.”
He laughed. “Anytime. I aim to please.”
She arched her eyebrows. “I’ll remember that.”
Paige let herself into the house and no sooner had she closed and locked the front door than a pair of arms grabbed her.
“Oh my God, Mom, how long were you going to be out there? I’ve been waiting forever for you to come inside.”
Paige turned to hug her middle daughter. “What are you doing here?”
“I got a great deal on a ticket and decided I would come surprise you for your birthday.” She smiled into her mom’s face. “Surprised?”
“Very.” Paige gave Nichole another swift hug. “I’m shocked you’re here, but also thrilled. How long will you stay?”
“I have to fly out tomorrow night, can’t miss work Monday, but that gives us all day tomorrow.”
“And tonight,” Paige said, leading the way into the kitchen. “Hungry? Thirsty?”
“No. Just tired.” Nichole smothered a yawn. “It’s almost one in the morning my time. How about we go to bed soon and wake up early? I’ve got a lot of things planned for us tomorrow.”
Paige wasn’t surprised. Nichole loved to be busy. Back in high school, she’d played four sports a year. “Wake me up when you wake up, then. Don’t let me oversleep if I only have one day with you.”
“I will but, Mom, who was that guy? You two were all over each other—”
“We were not. It was just a kiss good night.”
“It was more than a kiss good night. It was hands and tongue—”
“Nichole.”
Her daughter shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you kiss anyone but dad. And that was so long ago. I was just a kid.”
Paige made a face. “I didn’t know you were here. Obviously, we wouldn’t have spent that long . . . talking . . . outside.” She swallowed and asked, “How much of our conversation did you hear?”
“A little bit. Something about Paris. And then when it sounded like you guys had old history”—she gave her mom a meaningful look—“I stepped back, not wanting to hear more about your sex life. That was, uh, weird. He’s Australian?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“Melbourne, but he’s lived in the US for a long time. And before you go spreading rumors, he and I are just friends.”
“Friends with tongues, right.”