Chapter 31
ARE MIDDLE-AGED MEN TRAINABLE IN BED?
SHARI
“Spill!” is the first word I'm accosted with as soon as I walk into Better Latte Than Never.
“Geez, let a girl take her coat off first. Maybe grab a coffee. Definitely have a seat,” I eye Jaime pointedly.
“Fine, hurry up and take your coat off and sit. I have your coffee right here,” she pushes a mug towards me.
Shaking my head with a chuckle, I do as I'm told and take a seat opposite her, next to Max. I take a sip of the foamy nectar and really look at Jaime. It’s been a couple of weeks since she discovered Isaiah and Abby going at it.
She seems fine on face value, but I know she’s still hurting. “How are you, J? Really?”
She looks down at her coffee, “I’m…struggling a bit, but I’ve started going back to counselling so,” she shrugs, “I’ll get there. I don’t really want to talk about it, though, today is about your sex life!”
I look around with my head ducked because she more or less shouted that last part. Thankfully, there are only a couple of other people in here, and neither of them seems to have heard her outburst. Jaime does start cackling at my reaction, though, and I’m just happy to see her laughing.
I’m about to pretend to reprimand her when I hear, “Don't you dare start without me!” I look up to see Elle dashing towards us from behind the counter.
As soon as everyone's seated and staring at me, I feel a peculiar warmth wash over my face.
I generally don't get embarrassed, so I'm not sure why my skin is attempting a blush.
When I'm silent for too long, Max pokes my side, “Dude, talk already!
We're dying here! Did you sleep with him? How was it?”
“Is he as groomed down there as he is up top?” Jaime snickers.
I bark a laugh. “Yes, I slept with him, yes, he is groomed everywhere, and it was...um...ok?”
“Oh noooo. But he's so hot, it feels like a crime for him to be bad at sex!” Elle laments.
“It's probably why he's bad at sex, though,” Max ponders, “like he's always been able to coast on his looks, so it's not like he has to work at getting laid, right?”
“It's not that he's bad in bed, per se. I just think we like different things?” Why everything is a question, I don't know.
“Like, what?”
“Well, he seemed quite into the whole rough and tumble and that's just not my thing. He seemed to mistake my pain for pleasure and when I asked him to be more gentle, he was then too gentle. Like, no pressure on the areas that I needed it. It was almost…” I trail off, trying to find the right words.
“Almost?” Max prompts.
“I don't know how to describe it. But when he went down on me, it was very.
..slobbery? That sounds gross, but it was like he was trying to make out with my entire groin and kept missing the focus.
So when I told him I needed more than that, he was then too rough. As if he didn't have a middle ground.”
“Yeah, that would be a no from me,” Jaime cringes.
“Don't get me wrong, I almost got there a few times, but as soon as I was close, he'd change to something I didn't like and I'd lose the orgasm all over again! Ugh,” I drop my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Is it fixable? Are middle-aged men trainable in bed?”
“Did you only have sex once? Maybe it was first time jitters or that you guys just need to learn each other's bodies and likes?” Elle hedges, always trying to find the positive.
“No, he woke me up in the middle of the night to have another go. It was better, but it's like he still wasn't listening to me. How do I get him to really listen without insulting him?”
“Fucking fragile male egos,” Jaime grumbles into her coffee.
“In his defence, he did apologise for hurting me after the first time and ran me a bubble bath to soothe the ache. He's a good guy but just likes his sex on the rough and maybe slightly sadistic side.” My face scrunches at the memory.
“You definitely need to have a real and honest conversation with him about it, babe. Especially if you can see him as a long-term partner. Sex is important, so you have to be on the same page or it'll never work,” Max reaches over to squeeze my shoulder.
I let out a long breath, “I know. And I think I do see this getting serious, he really is a great guy. He messaged me within an hour of me leaving his flat to tell me he had a great night and missed me already.”
“That's sweet,” Elle sings.
My phone dings and I fish it out of my bag, smiling at the message on the screen.
“Is that him again?”
“Hmmm? No, it's Brad. He took Lizzie to feed the ducks this morning, and she ended up eating half the bread herself,” I lock the screen and when I look back up they're all sharing a look.
“What? What's that look?” I hate when they do this.
“Nothing, babe. So Jake cooked you dinner? What did he make?” Elle changes the subject.
I eye them for a moment longer before giving in, “He made steak with cheesy hasselback potatoes, roast carrots and asparagus. Although he undercooked my sirloin on purpose to prove that rare is king when it comes to steak. It was delicious, but I still prefer mine medium,” I huff a laugh and roll my eyes. Once again, they're sharing a look.
“What? Guys, don't say it's nothing. What is this look?”
Jaime, ever the veracious member of our group, pipes up. “Honestly? Jake sounds like kind of a dick.”
“What? Because he tried to prove a point about steak?” I'm truly baffled.
“Well, we've met him, for one, but even if we're just going from what you've told us,” she starts ticking off her fingers, “he told you how to eat your food, he didn't listen when you told him you weren't enjoying the sex, and he left you hanging off the back of the orgasm train. Twice! And that’s only from last night’s antics. I’m willing to bet he'll start love bombing you now in a bid to keep you on side.”
I'm stunned. I know she's protective, but she's not seeing any of the good and only focusing on her view of the bad things. What happened with Isaiah has only made her more jaded when it comes to men. It makes me feel oddly defensive of Jake.
“I think you're just picking out negatives wherever you perceive them, but that isn't how it happened,” is it? “Maybe you just need to get to know him better.”
Max watches me warily, “You're right. We've only met him once, so it's impossible to judge anything on one meeting. And from what you've said, all your other dates have gone really well. We'd love to spend more time getting to know him. Right, ladies?”
“Definitely, babe! Maybe we can all do something without the kids next month?” Elle suggests.
“Yeah, that'd be nice! Ok, I need the loo, back in a sec!” I hop up and dash to the toilet. My bladder gives me very little notice now as a forty-two-year-old mother.
As I'm walking back to the table, I can hear Jaime say, “I just think he's bad news, and she's blind to it. I don't want to upset her but I'd rather Shari be pissed at me now, in the short term, than question why I wasn't honest with her when it's gone too far.”
Max spots me and very unsubtly indicates for Jaime to shut up.
“Ok, let's not pretend that I didn't hear that. I appreciate your concern and that you want to protect me, but I just don't see it the same way you do. I will keep my Spidey senses open, though, I promise,” I hold out my pinky.
Jaime eyes my finger with a scoff and stands up to pull me into a suffocating hug.
“I’m just worried. I want the best for you and I fear that Jake isn't it. But you have to trust your own instincts, so...just know that if you ever come to the same conclusion as me, I will never judge you for it. And I hope we can dispose of his body together.”
“Deal,” I laugh.
It'll never come to that because I'm sure she's wrong about him. I think.
I decide to take Pickles out for an extra long walk after my lunch date with the girls, since the sun is out. It's cold, but at least it's not wet, which makes all the difference.
With both of us worn out from the exercise and frigid air, we're eager to get back indoors and so we jog the last fifty meters up the road to the house. There's a delivery van idling by the curb when we get to our driveway, and the driver gets out as we approach.
“Are you here for number fifteen?” I ask.
“Yeah, is that you? Good timing!” he opens the back of the van to sift through the packages whilst I let Pickles into the house, and as soon as I sign for my delivery, he drives off.
“I wonder what we have here, Pickles! I haven't ordered anything recently, I don't think.” Knowing me it could be special edition books I pre-ordered ages ago, but the box is way too big and heavy to be just one or two books.
I gasp in surprise when I open the box to find a beautiful bouquet of red roses, carnations, oriental lilies and gerberas arranged in a gorgeous white vase with gold veining.
There's also a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, a bottle of rosé prosecco, a cute little teddy bear with a note pinned to it that says “For Pickles”, and a jar of pistachios.
Nestled amongst the petals is a card that reads:
My Shari Amour, I am truly sorry if I hurt you last night, I think the world of you and can't wait to have you in my arms again soon. Love, Jake xx
This is such a thoughtful thing to do, he must have paid a hefty sum for same day delivery. I pick up my phone and call him.
“Hi, Amour, did you get my gift?”
“I did, thank you. You really didn't have to go to all this trouble.”
“It's no trouble. I've been thinking about you all day and wanted to make sure that you know how important you are to me. How important your happiness is to me.”
“Thank you, Jake. I'm so touched,” I gush.
He groans down the phone, “I would love to be the one touching you right now.”
Well, that took a turn. I suppose boys will be boys...although I really hate that phrase. I chuckle to keep things light, “Soon, Jake. Soon. How's your day been?”