In the morning, she woke to kisses.
Nick’s lips nibbled hers, and she moaned beneath him. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he murmured against her mouth. “How’s thirty feel so far?”
“Like twenty-nine with a hangover,” Lisa muttered. She’d had a little wine with dinner the night before, which never made her feel good the next day, and the thought that she was now officially “middle-aged” bothered her. Who’d decided thirty was middle-aged? While she couldn’t imagine being sixty, she liked to believe that wouldn’t be the end of the road.
Beneath the covers, Nick’s hand slid up her leg to cradle the V between her legs. His thumb pressed against her p***y, parting the lips of her labia to prod her clit. A sweet surge of lust flashed through her and she wriggled closer to him. Suddenly she wante
