Disclaimer;

I do not

ownthedelicious

characters you are about

to read on

even though

I so desperately

wish I could.

Julian smiled as he peeked inside his daughter's massive bedroom and saw her snuggling with her over-stuffed penguin, Amaryllis. Her pristine, light-blonde hair fanned out across her chocolate-silk pillow. She looked so much like a smaller, lighter version of her mother that it surprised even him. She had the same adorable freckles, the same impish, heart-shaped face. The only thing she had gotten from her father was her blonde hair and cerulean eyes. Yes, he and his wife had made a beautiful baby girl.

But, she was seventeen now. She had friends that she spent most of her days with and was on the phone most nights. The only time he got to see her was breakfast, dinner, and times like now, when she had thoughtlessly left her door open as she slept and he came through it to check on her.

"Looks just like her father, doesn't she?" Julian jumped a little, and then smiled as Grace wound her arms around his waist. "I was just thinking she looked more like you." How she could possibly think she looked anything like him amazed him; you couldn't look at Vanessa and deny she was spitting image of her mother. He felt Grace shrug, then step to his side. "I've never seen a more beautiful young woman, you know?" He turned to face her and caught her hands in his, "Nor have I, but I could name a close second." She smiled at that, making his heart flutter.

He pulled his daughter's door shut behind him as he and Grace walked hand-in-hand back to the den. There, his son was flipping through the channels on the TV. "Niklos, you had better not be on Cinemax again." Grace clipped with a deadly warning in her voice." He rolled his eyes at her, "No, mother, I'm watching the History channel this time, and no, it's not on sex cults or fertility magic." Julian couldn't help but chuckle at his son's sharp tongue.

Grace shot a deathly glare at him and let go of his hand. "You could be a little more helpful, you know." Julian formed his face into puppy-dog pout and she laughed. "Whatever, I'm going to make some hot chocolate. Nick, go to bed, it's nearly midnight." Niklos grumbled as he flipped off the television and trudged upstairs. Julian blanched, "I heard that, young man!" He called up the stairs. Niklos slammed his door. Grace sighed, "Teenagers." She shook her head.

Grace watched Julian out of the corner of her eye as she mixed the instant cocoa into her bumblebee mug. He took the cup out from in front of her and slid it into the microwave; he punched in a time and hit 'start.' Grace applauded, and Julian blinked at her. "What?" He asked, clearly confused. She exclaimed in mock excitement, "It's taken you only eighteen years to master the microwave! Next, you'll be loading the dishwasher!" She giggled as he growled and lunged for her waist, dipping her backwards; he caught her mouth in his and pulled a long, steamy kiss from the depths of her spirit. She obliged, sighing into his mouth as she marveled at his super-human strength and attractiveness, even at the ripe age of fifty.

He still had the firm, honey-colored muscle that bulged everywhere imaginable on his demi-god body, but they'd softened ever-so-softly and gained small creases at the corners and caverns of the once tight hardness. His thick, blonde hair that used to fall in shiny waves was beginning to grey, and had lost its supernatural luster. Though, many things about him aged and softened, the way he held her and the intensity of his gaze as he pulled away from her mouth and stared into her eyes had all but gotten stronger.

"I love you." He murmured into her neck when he pressed his lips against the column of her throat. He set her back on her feet and she wound her arms around his neck. "I love you, too." He smiled his award-winning smile and without taking his eyes off her, he reached behind him and opened the microwave one second before it went off and pulled her mug off of the rotating plate. Grace couldn't tear her eyes away from his long enough to tell him she wanted marshmallows. Instead, she let him bring the mug in front of his mouth, lightly blow the steam from the top, and offer it to her.

Instead of taking it in her hands, she let him raise it to her lips. She sipped in a bit of the liquid chocolate and let it rest on her tongue a moment before she swallowed it. He watched her throat swell and shrink with each drink she took. She couldn't help but blush; even after an eighteen year marriage, she never ceased being flattered by this man. He set the mug down on the counter and brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek. She felt the cool metal of his wedding band contradict with the warm flush of her cheek. She closed her eyes and sighed, and Julian took advantage of her parted lips to assault her with another kiss.

He loved the way she tasted. Even after all this time, even with all the women he'd been with in his past, he would never get over the magic that brought them together; symbolic and literal magic, that is. He knew the wedding bands soothed her, being a strong memory of her parent's undying love for each other. The one that Julian had placed on her finger at the altar was her mother's; white gold, a small sapphire, her mother's birthstone, encrusted in the center.

The one he wore on his finger, having once been her father's, used to choke her up when they first got married. He continued to insist that they could get different rings, or wear none at all, but she had insisted they not. One night, after a particularly horrifying fit of sobs, she took her face in his and said, "Oh, Julian, this is my father's way of blessing our marriage."

He hadn't been too sure of that claim then, but over the years he'd realized that since that outburst, she'd not cried a single tear over the band, and he was never going to bring it up to her again. She opened her big, light grey eyes and stared at him lustfully, sending ecstatic shivers down his spine. He lightly rested his hand on her hip and she sighed erotically, sending him into yet another state of shivers. Since their old age, they hadn't done much in their bedroom but sleep and watch TV together. The last time they'd shared an intimate touch had been over the summer break. The kids had been out of the house, it was too hot outside to go anywhere and for once, they had seen each other without thinking "Niklos's mother" or "Vanessa's father." They just saw each other as husband and wife; two lovers who had once shared a deep, passionate, erotic passion for each other that they could not remember ever being extinguished.

Once upon a time, they'd have already been in the bedroom as soon as the kids were gone. Staying there, wrapped in each other's bodies from sunrise to sunset, to sunrise again until it was time for the kids to come home. But sometime along the way, Grace had picked up crossword puzzles and Julian had taken to Sudoku and the sauna that had once been their sex life gradually lost steam until it was no more than a room-temperature cave.

But now, as he looked into her eyes that had darkened with lust and saw the blush on her face creep down until he was sure the blood was pulsing somewhere else, he recalled the times in their early relationship and he instantly felt his blood pool in his groin.

"Let's get upstairs." He growled, picking her up and carrying her up the stairs to their bedroom.