by Annie Dyer
“I should’ve told you when I was taking the test.”
He shook his head. “I know you, Payton Callaghan. You needed to know how you felt about it first. How did Seph know?”
I shook my head. “He knocked on the door and came in. The test was out and he, well, guessed. He sat on the bed while I took it. It’s a big thing for him – not that it isn’t a big thing for you, or me…”
He laughed quietly, a chuckle that vibrated through me. “Payts, he’s your twin. I don’t mind. I think I already knew anyway.”
We fell back onto the bed, me over him, his hands – those big talented hands – pushing under my sweater, his thumbs grazing over my bra.
“I love you. I’m scared and worried, but most of all, I’m excited and I’m so glad I’m doing this with you.” The words fell out easily as I used my legs to stabilise me, pushing his T-shirt up over his chest because I wanted him naked, needed to be close to him.
He got the hint, pulling my sweater off, his hands moving straight round to my bra fastener, undoing it and pulling it away. He stared at my breasts, looking at them hungrily, them propping himself up so he could take a nipple in his mouth and start to tease.
The sensation was heady, my hands becoming hungrier. His cock hardened and I saw his eyes growing darker with desire.
“I can’t wait to see you big with my baby.” He started to undo my pants, his hand dipping into my underwear and cupping my sex.
I knew I was wet; I felt like a cat in heat, needing to mate, only my partner was carefully chosen. He was perfect for me.
“I want to shout it from the top of the house that you’re having my child.” I felt his gaze on my belly. “I think you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
“This. You, our baby, this is the best present ever.” I kneeled up high and undid his jeans, running my hand over his hard length.
Owen didn’t try to dominate, stripping me of the rest of my clothes and pressing kisses across my skin, slowly making me feel like he was worshiping me. His lips trailed over my breasts, my stomach, moving my centre to his mouth where he licked and sucked until I was about to yield to an orgasm that I knew would make me boneless.
He lowered me down his body to where his cock was waiting. I knew that as soon as he entered me, I’d break apart around him. Slowly, savouring the stretch, I sank down on him, my nipples hardening even tighter as I started to come, holding his shoulders, watching his face as I came.
He started to move me, sitting up with his legs bent, so I could lean slightly back onto them. His words turned dirty, telling me about how he loved to fuck me, how seeing my tits bouncing was bringing him to the edge, how I was his.
I managed to start to move, bouncing up and down on his cock, and he moved one of his hands to press against the sensitive nub of nerves between my legs. I knew he wouldn’t come until I’d had a second orgasm, he was too proud to even get close, not that I ever complained about that.
This was the first time we hadn’t used a condom since before I’d come off the pill. Feeling him bare inside me was bringing me closer to coming quickly and I had no idea how he was holding off. A tap on my ass, added pressure to my clit and I fell over the edge, gripping his shoulders as I contracted around his cock, milking him as he thrust in harder and deeper, coming inside me with my name on his lips.
Afterwards, we lay on the crumpled sheets, both naked, both sated. His hands covered my stomach, his breath warm against my shoulder.
“Happy Christmas Eve.” He whispered the words. “And thank you for the best present ever.”
15
The History of London in Maps – from Marie to Victoria
Claire
I wasn’t sure whether to feel sorry for Seph or maim him.
He sat on Marie’s antique and newly recovered slipper chair, that was kept like an ornament in the hallway, holding his head in his hands, while conversation buzzed around everyone else.
“Just going to point out that the test isn’t mine.” I gestured down to my belly that was swollen and firm with baby number two. It was another girl, only we hadn’t shared that information with anyone yet, especially Killian’s brother, Nick.
He had twin girls who were just about to start school, and they were already wise enough to have him wrapped around his little finger and called all the shots. Killian didn’t tire of predicting exactly how much trouble they were going to be when they were older and making up scenarios that had Nick vowing to open a school in the middle of Dartmoor that had no access to the wider world as soon as they hit thirteen. Fortunately, Katie, Nick’s wife, knew exactly how much to let the twins get away with before reining them back in
Ava giggled, her hands still somewhere on Eli’s body. They’d been at the point of needing to get a room pretty much since they’d come down from their room, but thanks to Seph, no one’s attention was on them anyway.
“There are a lot of us who aren’t drinking.” Ava pointed at Wren, Victoria, Amelie, Katie – in fact, there was only Marie with an alcoholic drink in her hand.
I frowned and shrugged. “That doesn’t help.”
“It could be one of the girls who was here for Vic’s hen party.” Amelie stood behind Seph, a hand on his shoulder. Clearly she was going down the route of feeling sorry for him.
I looked around my sisters and Katie. Katie shook her head. She’d had a boy around the same time as I’d had Eliza, which brought her and Nick’s family to three. She’d said she’d love another, but not until the twins were at school full time and settled. Common sense.
If we had any common sense, we’d have waited until Eliza was a little bit older, but as soon as she stopped being a baby and became a little girl, I wanted another. Killian had only looked slightly scared when I told him, and added that it might take a while for me to get pregnant.
It hadn’t.
Note to self – Killian shows me his abs and I conceive. It really had been that fast.
“I do have news.” Amelie stood up a little straighter.
She was our oldest friend having grown up with her two brothers in the house next to us. Her relationship with her father had been severed, when at eighteen she’d been told she needed to get engaged to one of her father’s business acquaintances.
It was archaic and abusive; my blood had boiled ever since and when her father had died a couple of years ago, I couldn’t bring myself to go to his funeral, not when I knew that her father was the man my birth mother had an affair with, had wanted to leave us to be with him.
At eighteen, she’d been disinherited and cut off by her father. Her mother had barely stayed in touch, and Amelie had gone her own way, travelling and then settling in London where she ran a café that moonlighted as a speakeasy.
“You’re pregnant?” Seph removed his hands from his face and blurted it out.
She laughed. “No sugar, you need to get hold of sperm for that. I’m moving.”
“House?” Seph stood up.
I saw Marie give a sigh of relief now he was off the slipper chair.
“And everything. I’ve bought a pub and appointed a manager for the café. I move to Anglesey in February, once the works are completed.” She beamed brighter than I’d seen her for months, years maybe. “I was going to tell you after Max’s wedding but now seems like a good time.”
Seph looked even more flustered now, slightly panicked. This was his morning routine totally blown; gym, shower, coffee from Amelie’s, start work, another coffee at nine with breakfast – he’d struggled when she’d been on holiday.
“The manager I’ve appointed will be great. He’ll make sure you get the beans you like and the right amount of froth.” She put a hand on Seph’s forearm.
He still looked petrified.
“Why Anglesey, Amelie?” Callum sat down on Marie’s slipper chair. “I think Payton and Owen have left the kitchen if we want to go back in there.”
“Wise idea,” Marie said. “That chair was not designed for someone of your we
ight and size to plonk their arse on it, so up you get.”
Callum grinned and pulled Marie into a side hug. I saw her melt a little because there was very little Callum could ever do wrong, including sitting on her favourite chair.
We headed back into the kitchen, several glances going in the way of the downstairs bathroom as we passed the corridor that led to it. The positive pregnancy test in there was still the elephant in the room, a large baby elephant.
I hadn’t seen it; I doubted Killian would’ve even registered it, had he been in it. “Seph, are you sure you saw it – the test in there?”
“What else would it be?”
He looked at me with puppy dog eyes. “I know what one looks like and, because I’d seen Payton’s, I probably actually noticed it and assumed it was hers – that she’d just taken another one to check.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I really am dense sometimes. I didn’t know she hadn’t told Owen. He’s going to hate me.”
“I think he’s far too happy to hate you.” Maxwell patted him on the back. “But you’re probably on baby-sitting duty for the rest of your life.”
Seph shrugged. “That was going to happen anyway. I need to go and apologise.”
I grabbed him before he could leave the kitchen. “I think they’ll be busy doing other things right now and you knocking on the door will not be appreciated. And you need to find out where Amelie’s off to.” And whoever had left that test there was clearly not in the mood for outing themselves right now. “Sit.”
For once in his life, Seph didn’t argue, sitting down on one of the barstools instead.
“So tell us about this pub you’ve bought.” Marie sat herself next to our dad, patting his leg and gesturing for him to top up her glass.
Amelie curled up on the sofa, looking even more like a tiny blonde pixie than she normally did.
“I went there for a week in October, to see a friend who’s moved back home. About three miles from where she lives is a town – it’s mainly fishing based, but it’s becoming more touristy – and there was an abandoned building that used to be a pub with six guestrooms. No one’s been in it for years and it was a bit of a state.” She glanced at Maxwell. “My father’s estate settled while I was there.”
“So you put an offer in for it.” Max’s arm looped around Victoria.
Amelie nodded. “It’s time for me to leave London. I’m not selling up – that would make no sense – but I need a change, so I’m off to Oyster Bay. The building work will be completed by Valentine’s Day, so I’ll be heading there to see what a small Welsh island’s like.”
There was a silence, one that felt almost like we’d lost something.
“That’s summer holidays sorted.” Killian sat back, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “And our daughter’s awake. Who’s turn is it?”
He looked at me so I knew full well it wasn’t his turn.
“Can you help me up?” I didn’t need any help at all in getting up, but I was hoping that he’d give in and go and check on Eliza himself. I adored my daughter, but at this point of cooking another one, I was happy to spend as much time sitting down as possible.
He shook his head. “Well played, wife.”
I relaxed back into the sofa. “Thank you.”
He raised an eyebrow and I knew exactly what it translated as: you owe me. I might’ve been seventeen dozen months pregnant but I wasn’t dead, so I gave him the dirtiest smile I could muster and hoped the rest of my family didn’t notice.
“What’s in Oyster Bay?”
I tuned back into the conversation. Ava was about to go into full on design mode. I could tell with the way she was edging forward – to be honest, the thought of six guest bedrooms that needed furnishing was probably her dream Christmas present.
“It’s a centre for water sports and fishing – commercial and commissioned. There’s a church there which is really old; apparently the bones of some saint are hidden in a wall. Then what you’d expect – a café, few shops, bakers, one restaurant. There’s a holiday village with homes on there and a spa, and the cottages where the locals live. It’s incredibly pretty, even in autumn.” Her expression had softened while she spoke and I saw the unhappiness that had plagued her start to slip away.
I knew she’d been in love with Maxwell for years. He had no idea although I suspected Victoria had an inkling. Max saw her as another sister, and although before Vic I’d half-thought he might one day wake up and notice Amelie for more than the girl he grew up living next to, he never had.
“It’ll be completely different to London.” Callum had settled in front of the wood burning stove, adding another log. “Different pace.”
She nodded. “I think that’s what I need. No pollution. No continual noise of car engines. Just the waves and the sound of boats.”
“Sounds idyllic.”
Amelie smiled softly. “It is. You’ll have to come and stay as soon as you can. The beach is gorgeous. Eliza will love it.”
“Have you thought about how you’ll decorate it?” It was Ava, of course.
“I have some ideas. Maybe we can go through them in the next few days.”
They started to talk about the island and Amelie’s friend who lived there, a teacher she knew through a charity event she’d been involved in and I half drifted off, the familiarity and warmth as good as any tonic for sleeping.
A sharp pinch on my arm brought me back to a rude reality.
Seph.
“Do you want me to murder you?” I was too comfy to make the words sound in any way menacing.
“Who do you think left the test there?”
I opened both eyes. Everyone was talking to someone else, or eating. Killian was with Nick, which told me Eliza was settled.
“Not Payton.”
“Obviously.” He scowled. “Katie? Wren? She’s just got back from Marrakesh – this might’ve been her first opportunity…”
He stopped when he saw my glare.
“When did you become such a gossip?”
He shrugged and managed to look about thirteen again.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Now pass me one of those mince pies Marie’s just taken out of the oven.”
16
A dining experience with a Michelin starred chef – From Grant to Marie
Maxwell
Knowing exactly what my siblings – Seph and Ava at least – were like, I left it until everyone had gone to bed to put my presents under the tree. One year, Ava had managed to find her presents, unwrapped them, and wrapped them back up. Seph broke one of Marie’s gifts by shaking it, thinking it was for him, when it was an ornament instead.
That hadn’t gone down well.
Someone had already been under the tree, arranging presents, and by the looks of things, resticking tags. I found Vic’s pile, an array of wrapping paper, a lot of it looking book shaped.
Claire’s pile was next to Eliza’s mountain, five stockings nearby for Eliza and her cousins because Santa had been redirected here, so the twins had been persuaded. They had put in a call for two Christmas days, but Nick had soon explained exactly why that wasn’t happening and had somehow managed to get them into bed early at the same time.
This had been the first year I’d been around kids on Christmas Eve since Ava, Seph and Payton were small. The house had been filled with excited voices all day, even Teddy, although he was too young to know exactly what was going on, had known it was something different. Eliza had learned enough from the twins to be too excited and tears before bedtime did happen.
I sat down on the sofa and picked up the night cap I’d poured, watching the fading embers, aware that I needed to go to bed as I had a feeling it was going to be an early morning.
I wanted that early morning in my own house. Wanted a Christmas soon where an excited child would wake us up and demand to find out if Santa had been. Patience had never been my strength and when we’d first started trying for a baby, we’d kind of thought it would take a while, the ide
a being that Vic might be pregnant when we got married and that would be okay, but we’d been more than right. It was taking a long time.
“You’re still up.” My wife-to-be’s voice rang in from the doorway. “You’re not unwrapping presents are you?” Her tone changed, becoming accusatory.
I swung round to see her, wrapped in a silky dressing gown, her hair down and glasses on. The power of speech left me.
I’d been waking up with Victoria Esme Davies every day for the best part of two and a half years and my reaction each time I saw her was still the same: sheer encompassing awe.
“Max, you look like you’ve taken drugs. How much whisky did you drink? Has Seph been baking again?”
Her dressing gown slipped open a little, exposing cleavage that I’d been lost in on more than one occasion.
“No, and you’re the only thing I want to unwrap. Come here.”
Her smile was teasing. “I might not be your present this year. I might’ve gotten you something else.”
“I don’t want anything else. You’re everything. I took her in my arms, my hands going to her waist, touching her ass. I had every intention of risking it and having her here, in front of the Christmas tree.
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine, her hands sliding over my T-shirt and onto my shoulders. I slipped my hands into her dressing gown, pulling the silky material apart and finding her naked underneath, as I’d hoped.
“See, told you I just needed you as a present.” I pushed the robe off her shoulders.
Vic trailed a finger down to my hardening cock. “As much as I’m interested in seeing what early Christmas gifts you’re going to give me, I don’t think your family want a ticket.”
I glanced down between us and saw her tits, full and round, with nipples that were already hard. I’d never been a tit man before, not until Victoria. And then I became a Victoria-man.